Carnage Island (Reject Island)

This time, she doesn’t listen.

The second the bedding is in the air, I jump to catch it in my mouth, then I take it to the corner to lay it on the ground and start spreading it out with my paws. I have no idea why I’m doing this, but it’s oddly soothing, so I let it happen.

It’s similar to how my wolf wanted to roll in their beds, to scent off their sheets.

But different because I’m creating this myself. Sort of, anyway. It’s like we’re working together toward a goal only my wolf understands.

I lose myself to the task, stretching out the sheets, pawing off the salty grim, then smoothing it in a way that feels right. The comforter is next, the soft dark fabric heavenly to my teeth and nails. I fluff it up a little, then nuzzle it with my nose until it’s in the right position, creating a bed on the floor.

Pleased with the design, I plop down in the center of it and turn to face the three Alphas.

They’re all gaping at me.

“Did she…?” Caius trails off, swallowing.

“Just start making a nest?” Tieran finishes for him, his voice sounding hoarse. “Yeah. Yeah that’s exactly what she just did.”

I blink. A nest? I glance down at the bed I made and cock my head. I’ve never heard someone call a bed a nest before. But I guess it sort of resembles a nest.

Standing, I shake off the need to retreat to my nest and focus on Caius.

He mentioned food.

That sounds very nice right now. Maybe after, I can try the whole taking command thing that Tieran mentioned and see if my wolf will let me walk on two legs again.

The males say nothing, their gaze still locked on me.

I give a little yip, trying to say food, then wander up to nudge Caius’s hand.

It’s bold, but I’m starving now. Something about making that bed has awakened my hunger.

I can’t even remember the last time I ate.

And the scents coming from upstairs are practically screaming for me to run up and taste them.

Caius runs his fingers through my fur, his touch reverent. “I think she wants to eat,” he whispers.

“She’s going to want a lot more than that,” Volt says, taking a step backward into the hallway. “But yeah. We should… we should eat.”

“Yeah,” Tieran agrees. “We really should.”

Caius chuckles, his fingers still drawing through my fur in a way that makes my wolf want to purr. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s feed you and see if you can’t shift back after.”





8





CAIUS





An Omega.

She has to be one.

She’s small, smells divine, and just started making a fucking nest in Tieran’s room out of his soiled sheets.

It would also explain her wolf’s inherent trust in us to protect her.

Omegas are drawn to Alphas, just as we’re drawn to them.

And I am absolutely fucking drawn to this little beast with her pretty white fur and intelligent brown eyes.

Her scent is a goddamn beacon as well, practically radiating fuck me vibes all over our den.

I lead her to the dining room to find the table set for four.

Which is obviously not going to work since she’s still in wolf form.

I frown, searching for a better place to set her food down.

Volt has already sliced up the meal into bite size pieces, likely anticipating her wolfish state. That also explains why he chose these lipped plates. They’re almost like bowls, but flat on the bottom with edges.

Picking up her dish, I glance at the ground beside the table and decide that’s not going to work. She can’t eat at our feet.

Volt and Tieran seem to feel the same way as they both are searching for a better place to eat while the little wolf leans against my legs and gazes up at me wistfully.

I doubt she’s eaten much, if anything, since being shipped off to Wolfe Island.

“Let’s eat in the living area,” Tieran suggests, picking up his plate and fork. He swapped his wet jeans for a pair of sweats before coming up and seems to be quite comfortable with our little visitor now—evidenced by the small grin he gives her. “We can gather around the coffee table.”

Volt nods, grabbing his plate as well and taking it to the room before coming back for mine.

Tieran returns to grab our drinks—which leads me to ask, “Do we have a big mug?” Because our little wolf is going to need some water with this meal.

“On it,” Tieran says, already on his way back from the living area.

The female is still pressed up against my leg, probably because I promised to feed her.

I lead her into the living area where Tieran is setting down pillows to function as chairs. Then he takes the seat on the floor that gives him the best view of the room and the door, and gestures for me to sit beside him. Volt settles across from me, and the female sits next to me.

I set her bowl on the table. Then add her mug to the edge. It’s still a little tall for her, so I end up setting it on the ground.

She huffs a little, but lays down to eat.

Or she tries to, anyway.

She keeps snorting, her nose hitting the lip of the plate as she attempts to daintily take a bite.

“No need to be polite or elegant here,” I tell her. “Just dig in and use your tongue.”

“Or let your wolf guide you,” Tieran suggests. “It’s all about finding balance between you and your wolf. Once you start truly working together, you’ll feel better.”

She glances up at him, then dips her snout in the water mug and sneezes.

“Tongue, beautiful,” I say again. “Use your tongue.”

“And your wolf,” Tieran echos, taking a bite of his salmon steak.

She continues to try to eat, her agitation palpable. These are the sorts of skills that should come naturally to a wolf but she’s never been taught any of them—a realization that irritates me to no end.

But she doesn’t give up. She tries various ways to eat, including lapping up some of the salmon with her tongue.

And after ten or so minutes, she finally finds a groove that allows her to enjoy her meal.

We could have scattered it on the ground or fed her from our hands, but these are life skills she needs to survive.

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