I tried to suppress my delight, but it was impossible. Everyone in the house knew my craving when I came out of my shift, but no one had ever brought it to me. That’s something mates did for each other.
I pushed my plate aside and peeled off the lid, spooning a giant scoop into my mouth. Instant relief. It was a terrible feeling to come out of a shift and not have that one craving satisfied.
“I once knew a guy who ate butter,” Wheeler said conversationally, licking syrup from his finger. “He’d eat tubs of that fatty lard.”
“We can’t control what our wolf craves.”
Wheeler smeared his finger around the plate, picking up more syrup. “Yeah, you can. Takes a lot of discipline, but you need to show your animal who’s boss. People listen to their wolves when maybe they shouldn’t. They let them decide who to mate with, what to eat, when to shift; that’s too much fucking control.”
I took another generous helping of cream cheese. “So you’ve made your wolf submissive to your human side? That’s not wise. Someday he’ll rise up against you if you don’t learn to make compromises. And remember that your wolf is a part of you. Maybe the reason why we can’t control who our animal bonds with is because they know what we need, which might not always be what we think we want. Maybe there are soul mates.”
He flicked a glance at my spoon. “That all you’re eating?”
I sniffed out a laugh and stood up, careful not to touch Wheeler. He didn’t care for physical affection. “When you give in to your craving, the hunger goes away. Give in, Wheeler. Or else you’ll always be starved for something that isn’t what you need.”
“Yes, Confucius.” He wiped syrup off his short beard with the back of his hand and took a swig from his bottle of beer.
April was the animal lover in the house, always helping injured birds or other critters. I once asked her what had given her the courage to let a dangerous wolf into her house. She told me that the ones that bark the most are always the ones who need the most love but are too afraid. That’s how I often felt about Wheeler. He could rub me the wrong way with his brash words and disrespectful tone, but I’d taken what April said to heart, and maybe it helped me be more tolerant of his behavior.
A square box mounted on the wall next to the door flashed, signifying someone wanted in. Austin peered out before stepping back.
Jericho hurried in and went straight to Izzy, who was sitting on the couch eating. He took the plate out of her hands and replaced it with a white box of donuts. He set a cup of steaming cocoa on the table and smiled proudly.
“Jericho Sexton Cole, if you keep this up, I’m going to give birth to a chocolate-glazed donut.”
Everyone laughed and he strolled around the sofa behind her. He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss to her neck, splaying his long fingers across her belly.
On the opposite sofa, Denver had his bare feet on the coffee table. His disheveled hair looked like he’d used his fingers as a comb. “How’s the little bean this morning?”
“Stop calling him a bean,” she said with a scowl on her face.
Jericho chuckled. “Yeah, call him Floyd instead.”
Izzy thumped Jericho on the forehead.
Before I realized it, my hand was covering my own belly. Except unlike Izzy’s—full of life—mine was flat and hollow. I remembered the first time I felt Lakota kick within me; he was such a strong boy. My father, shamed by my deception, had kept me locked in my room when I began showing. The pack knew I was pregnant, but he didn’t want me walking around as a reminder of his failure as a father and as a leader. It was hard to believe I could feel such tenderness for that little stranger growing inside me, and those nine months became the shortest months of my life. I savored each day we were connected. His kicks brought me joy, as did those late nights when Lakota had the hiccups and kept me awake. I sang him songs and told him our spirits would always be one and that if he ever needed me, I’d find him in our dreams. Would I ever know that joy again?
When I moved toward the door, Austin gripped my arm. “Where are you going?”
“To speak with Reno. It’s time for me to decide where my fate lies.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said. “We’ll protect you.”
I reached out and lightly held his wrist. “But can you protect my son? Ask yourself what you would do to protect your pack, and then you’ll have your answer as to how I feel. Someday you’ll be a father, Austin. And I hope with all my heart that you can hold your son and know that he’s safe. I cannot. My arms are empty. I would sacrifice everything for the life I brought into this world, even if I can never hold him. My wolf calls for me to protect this little spirit, and that’s more than love. He’s destined for great things.”