Wolfsong (Green Creek 1) - Page 51

A sound came then. It was wet and snapping and horrible, and there was a groan of muscle and skin, and white fur rippled and receded. It only took seconds, but where there’d once been a wolf, now stood Thomas. He was still an animal, or at least partway, caught between man and wolf. His fingers ended in black claws and his face was slightly elongated. There were teeth, sharp teeth, and his eyes were red.

And he was naked, which just made everything all that more surreal.

“We knew this was a possibility,” he told Gordo, his voice a deep rumble, the words slightly lisped because of the fangs. The fangs.

“How is this fair to Ox?” Gordo asked bitterly. “You didn’t give him a choice.”

“And you did?”

The tattoos flared on Gordo’s arms. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“You’re not a stupid boy,” Thomas snapped. “Don’t act like you are. These things choose themselves. Your father, regardless of what he turned into, taught you better than that.”

“Don’t you dare bring him into this. Ox isn’t—”

“I’m standing right here,” I somehow managed to say.

They looked over at me, surprise on their faces, like they’d forgotten I was there.

And it hit me.

“Joe,” I said. “Where’s Joe?”

Carter and Kelly whimpered at my sides, brushing up against me.

Thomas sighed. “It’s his first shift. He’s not… handling it very well.”

Fear ran through me. “Where is he?” I demanded.

Gordo stepped forward. “Ox, you need to understand. You always have a choice. This isn’t set in stone.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care what’s going on. I don’t care if I’m dreaming or awake or if I’ve lost it. Fucking wolves and witches and I don’t fucking care. Where the fuck is Joe?” My hands were fists at my sides. Carter and Kelly laid their ears flat against their heads and slunk down, trying to make themselves smaller.

Thomas said, “He needs your help.”

And Gordo said, “Fuck that. You don’t put that on him.”

But then Thomas had him by the throat and he was more wolf than man, though he still stood on two legs. The white hair had returned, and the claws had extended. His teeth were bigger, like fat nails, and the noise that spilled from him caused gooseflesh along my arms and neck.

“You are here,” Thomas snarled at him, “because I respected your father and the covenant. Or at least what he once was. Don’t mistake that for anything more. You are not pack by your own choice.”

“And yet you call me for this?” Gordo snapped, struggling in Thomas’s grasp. “And I came. I’m not bound for shit and I still came.”

“He is my son. And the next Alpha. You will show respect.”

“Fuck you,” he wheezed.

And I said, “Stop.”

And they did.

Gordo fell to the ground, sucking in air.

Thomas breathed heavily, eyes red, growling low.

And then I saw it. Behind them. In the clearing. In the moonlight.

A dark shape, curled on the ground. A flicker of light rose up around it. Green, maybe. Deep green, but it was gone before I could be sure.

Tags: T.J. Klune Green Creek Fantasy
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