Awakened By The Wolf

All Gavin Walker’s love and attention had gone to his firstborn, the Alpha-in-Waiting. Brice learned at a young age that his father held little regard for him, treating his second son as if he was lower than a pack Omega. Ironic, considering the Walker’s Run pack didn’t subscribe to the ancient social order for its members. Everyone had their place and purpose, but no hierarchy existed aside from the succession of the Alpha family, which the pack continued to endorse.

“Talk to him,” Granny urged. “You’ll be surprised at what he has to say.”

Nothing Gavin Walker said interested Brice. Too many hurts had hardened Brice’s heart and mind to listen.

He wiggled the locking mechanism on the window until it loosened. After hoisting the pane up and down several times, Brice returned to Granny’s bedside.

Ignoring her one raised eyebrow and one-sided frown, he pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. The heat of her silent chastisement forced him out of the lab coat. Guilt ate at him for not giving her what she wanted. Still, Brice wouldn’t agree to something that he had no intention of doing. “Tell me what happened last night.”

“The pain started after supper. I told Cassie that I had indigestion.” A mischievous sparkle lit Granny’s tired eyes. “She’s such a sweet girl. I think you’ll like her.”

Oh, he liked her, all right.

“About last night?” Brice fidgeted to find a comfortable position for his leg.

“Cassie dialed 911, gave me an aspirin and then called Gavin. If she hadn’t been there, I probably would’ve gone to bed.”

Brice’s heart registered another tally in Cassie’s favor. Casually he rubbed his shirtsleeve across his face. A hint of her scent lingered in the fabric. Anticipation tickled his nose and spread to his groin. He couldn’t wait to snuffle her sweet spot again.

“I worried that Adam wouldn’t tell you.” Granny held out her knobby hand, and Brice gently sandwiched her fingers between his palms.

“He didn’t have a chance. I left Atlanta on Thursday as a wolf. He has no idea where I am. No one knows.”

One of the monitors beeped louder, faster. “Brice Walker! What if something had happened to you?”

“Easy, Granny.” He stroked her arm. “I can take care of myself.”

“Doesn’t give you the right to be reckless. For goodness sakes, you are the Alpha-in-Waiting.”

“No, I’m the fucking screwup who got the real one killed.”

Granny’s dry lips puckered. “I’m not too sick to scrub your tongue with soap, young man, so watch your language.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Brice dropped his gaze and bowed his head.

“You must let go of the past. Grief is eating your soul. Death is a part of life. Whether peaceful or violent, how we die is less important than how we live.” Granny’s fingers scrunched the hair at the back of his neck. “You aren’t the only one who suffered loss, my boy. Neither is your sorrow any greater than ours. You lost your brother, but the rest of us lost you both.” She lifted his chin until their eyes met. “Mason can’t come back, but you can.”

“Dad won’t allow it.” Brice said the words as if he didn’t care.

“Is that what you believe?” Granny’s penetrating stare splintered his thin veil of indifference. Shame, humiliation and a deep-seated hurt forced Brice to turn away.

“Good heavens, it is,” Granny gasped. “What has Adam done to you?”

“He gave me a place to belong.” Brice squeezed the bridge of his nose to curtail the migraine building behind his eyes. He didn’t want to waste their time arguing.

“Where you belong is in Walker’s Run.” Granny’s words held the conviction of a red-faced minister preaching hellfire and brimstone at a camp meeting revival. Brice wanted to believe. He truly did. Walker’s Run was his home.

Had been his home, a lifetime ago. Soon the path he chose would ensure he never called Walker’s Run home again.

The door swooshed open and closed. “The nurses are starting rounds.”

“Who’s that?” Granny turned her head toward the woman in the shadows.

“Cassie.” Brice noticed how her presence de-escalated his tension.

“So you’ve met.” A curious smile lifted Granny’s voice.

“I found her asleep in my bed.” The possessive thump in his chest wanted to erase the drop-dead smirk on Cassie’s face. Resisting her would be quite a challenge.

He couldn’t wait.

“Oh, dear.” Granny’s grin ruined any worry her tone might have carried.

“We had a rough introduction, but I think she likes me.” Brice winked at Cassie. “Especially naked.”

“Don’t bet on that, Benji,” she countered, though her eyes held an unmistakable spark.

Brice chuckled, and the mirthful sound surprised him.

“Oh, this does my heart good.” Granny rubbed her chest. “Cassie, my girl, come give Granny a hug.”

Cassie’s stone face said that she didn’t want a hug. So did her ramrod-straight back.

“Come, come. Don’t be shy. I don’t bite.” Granny smiled. Without her dentures, she looked as harmless as a toothless infant.

“Don’t worry, Cas.” Brice walked her to his grandmother’s bedside. “Granny is human.”

* * *

Careful to avoid the IV lines and monitor wires, Cassie leaned in for one of Margaret Walker’s famous hugs. A hard tremble rocked Cassie’s body.

“It’s all right.” Margaret rubbed Cassie’s back. “Granny’s just a plain old granny. No need to be frightened.”

Cassie had no fear of Margaret, though learning the woman didn’t sprout fur and bay at the moon came as a relief.

Pure and simple, Cassie hated hospitals. They were cold and impersonal and rank. No amount of disinfectant or deodorizers could expunge the smell of suffering.

Her mother had spent years in and out of hospital rooms. It had been horrible. The false hope. The rally, the decline. The numbing acceptance that while miracles did happen, they didn’t happen for everyone.

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Walker?” Cassie crossed her arms to hold on to the warmth of Margaret’s hug.

“Fit as a Hardanger fiddle now that my two favorite people are here.” Margaret poked Cassie’s elbow with an arthritic finger. “And I’ve told you to call me Granny.”

The simple term of endearment struck a raw nerve. Cassie wanted to say it, but she couldn’t push the word from her lips. She couldn’t risk bonding with Margaret, or anyone else, if she expected to leave Maico with no regrets.

“Yes, ma’am” was the most Cassie could offer.

Margaret rested her eyes. A sweet sigh quivered her lips, and her features no longer held the harried look Cassie had seen so often in recent years. Now the old woman looked peaceful, content. Not what Cassie expected from someone who’d suffered a heart attack.