Lib Novel Page 137
According to Avery, because Mutt was an alpha, he needed a mate. An official one. Someone who would keep his wolf under wraps. It was a soul bond. Something that couldn’t be constructed with artificial magic, and something so ancient even the witches hardly knew anything about it. There was a ceremony that Avery didn’t know the details of, only that it was important, and something only wolfkind shared.
The most important thing I learned about mates, however, was the fact that humans couldn’t be one. At least, according to Avery.
We didn’t have a wolf inside to bond with.
Which was just…fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
That night when I went home I curled up with Mutt-the-dog in bed, his fur tickling my nose, and tried not to die. I hadn’t felt this helpless since that day when I was a kid and I’d watched Blair scarf down the rolls I’d stolen for him and knew there was nothing I could do to stop him from getting locked up again.
Avery helped where he could. I spent way too fucking long on the dark web. Before, I’d avoided the local hunting lodges and libraries like the plague because of their association with Lydia, and the fear that I’d run into some of our old colleagues. But the second I’d learned about Mutt’s condition, all those anxieties flew out the window, and I found myself planning trips out to visit local hunters to see what they knew.
Eventually I’d try the two big lodges, but for now, I avoided them. I didn’t necessarily want to draw a whole bunch of attention to us, because even though I didn’t know much about the moons and their pull—I did know about hunting laws.
And hunting laws dictated that a feral alpha werewolf was fair game. The second they got stuck in their wolfskin they had twelve hours to be claimed by a Pack Alpha who was willing to be responsible for them or…they’d get killed.
Blair helped where he could, Richard did too.
Even Collin helped—though his help was kinda more of a hindrance than anything else, because he was always fucking hungry and had the attention span of a goldfish.
I learned a lot that first week. More of the books I’d asked Avery for came in, and I pulled two all-nighters in a row pouring over the information in them. Mutt kept having to remind me to eat, and neither of us mentioned the fact that my “dog” never showed up when he was around.
I wanted to save him.
And I thought…maybe if I searched long and hard enough, I’d find a way for us to get around the whole pesky humans-can’t-bond-with-wolves thing.
Because even though I’d told my therapist I wasn’t ready for a relationship, I’d realized how fucking wrong that was. And I wanted to keep Mutt. I wanted to keep him. To make him happy. To give him all the smiles he asked for. And my only shot at that was if I could figure this shit out before he had to go home in January.
At one point, sleep deprived and staring blankly at the last page of the last book Avery had ordered in for me, I wondered why fate was a cruel heartless bitch. Because wolves weren’t like vampires. I couldn’t just fill out a paper and ask the council for permission to become one. Wolves were born, not turned.
And these books were fucking useless.
When I wasn’t searching for answers, I spent all the time I could with Mutt.
And he was as adorable as ever.
After our intense, awful, horrible conversation in my kitchen, Mutt pretended as though nothing was wrong. He watched a shitty horror movie with me, asked me about a zillion questions—because he didn’t understand half of it—and snuggled with me on the couch till well after three, stroking fingers beside my stitches like he was still worried. Mutt rumbled and purred, nuzzling into my throat, behind my ears, back down my spine and to my ass.
He pulled my pants down and licked me clean, running his tongue over my hole over and over and over till I was twitchy and wet and humping the couch cushions. He fucked my thighs—aided by the lube he’d given me, which I procured from “sex basket”. And as he fucked me in earnest, his grunts and growly voice rumbled against the back of my neck. “Lube is the best invention ever.”
And he was right.
After Mutt “left for the night” he’d even went as far as to show up to my front door in his wolfskin pretending to be my dog again. I pretended too—letting him in with a big grin and a pet to his furry head.
He looked…emaciated. Weak. The same way his human form had. But he was chipper as ever, woofing at me happily as he padded into our bedroom and curled up on our bed to wait for me while I brushed my teeth and stripped down for bed.
So many times I was tempted to tell him I knew.
But I didn’t.
Because at the end of the day, if he needed this distance—I figured the least I could do was let him keep it. At least…for now. Besides, I didn’t have it in me to confront him right now. Not when every spare ounce of energy I possessed was spent on trying to fix this shitty, awful situation.
I’d promised.
I wasn’t even sure Mutt knew how much danger he was in. If the moons were getting stronger, and more painful—that only really meant one thing. I couldn’t stomach the idea that one day he’d get stuck. That he’d be put down.
And I just…