I normally appreciate silence. I've never been one to feel the urge to fill the air or make conversation around other people, even if there are things I might want to say. But I feel uncomfortable with this particular silence.
We barely said more than a few words to each other after I made it back to her with her bag. She'd gotten herself cleaned up as best she could with the water and dressed herself in short order—I let her do so with as much privacy as I could reasonably give, even after everything that had happened.
I smear my hand across my face as I lead the way back along the trail, grateful that this particular section is only wide enough for us to walk single file.
I'd thought that maybe I would have been able to trigger her survival instincts and rouse the wolf in her. I know that I find it easiest to shift when my base senses are triggered and the fight or flight takes over.
But instead I'd—...
I should have known better. I know that some old-fashioned pairs go out and run in the woods for courtship, or wind up building a bond when the pack goes out into the woods when their animal natures are in the driver's seat. But it hadn't crossed my mind that I could trigger those sorts of instincts in this whole exercise.
And now this whole mess has gotten even messier.
The most frustrating thing is that my body is still humming with desire for her. I've barely been able to look at her not only out of shame, but because I'm worried I'll set off that powder keg if I stare too long. My hands twitch at my sides, restless and empty, craving the feeling of her again.
I resist the urge to swear under my breath—I don't want Gwen to think I'm upset with her. She's had it hard enough thanks to my bullshit.
We get back onto the wider path leading back to the main pack grounds, and I try not to think too much about how she keeps herself trailing gently after me. Is it because she's scared of me? Or is she still wracked by the instincts of how she'd submitted to me in the most primordial way our kind could?
But god, she had been so beautiful like that. Flushed, run to exhaustion, her curls a messy tangle around her face… Body wracked with desperate gasps for air that made her breasts heave and stomach go beautifully taut… Sprawled out beneath me, begging, bared open for me and me alone…
I dig my nails into my palms to force my mind back in to the present and keep my blood from pooling back to my dick again.
By the time we make it out of the woods, I have to carefully check to see if I bloodied myself again. Thankfully not; that might scare Gwen, too.
But just when I'm about to try and hail her for some effort of civilized conversation, there's a flare of vigilant instinct that sharpens through me. I step towards her and glance over my shoulder just in time to make eye contact with a group of men passing along nearby. Namely, I lock eyes with James Layman again.
There's a microsecond of delay, but he smiles and nods politely at me.
I can tell that it's a superficial gesture. I know another wolf in man's clothing when I see it. We recognize our own. But he’d passed the Council's inquiries after Liam took over Portsmill, and hadn't caused him or my sister any problems.
At least not yet.
I blockade her from their gazes with my body and a silent stare warding off their attention. It takes them getting well on their way past us for me to break out of the warning, protective instinct. I can tell I'm still too raw and shallow to my inner wolf—I'd felt ready to murder any of them for even the smallest twitch.
“Thorn…”
I look down to Gwen and regret it for two reasons. The first one is that she is just too goddamned beautiful for her own good. I want to just pin her down right here, heedless of whoever might see us, and finish what I started. The second is the more lucid realization of how conflicted her expression is.
“Yes?”
My voice feels choked and despite all my strength, I feel weakened and almost… Afraid. I haven’t known fear in so long that I barely recognize it.
“Gwen!!”
I bite my cheek to keep myself from growling and turn quite stiffly towards the source. Her gargantuan brother strides towards us and waves with an idle smile.
God fucking damn it.
When I spare a brief glance back at Gwen, my stomach twists to see that she doesn't seem upset to be interrupted. In fact, she looks relieved .
Of course she'd be relieved. I’d practically just forced myself on her in the woods. With this fresh shame flaring up in me, I carefully take one step back from Gwen to give her some breathing room.
“Hey,” she greets her brother.
“I heard from the Lunas that you went off with this guy here to check out the woods. What do you think? They're nice, right? Super pretty, great to wander around in.”
“Yeah. They were—they were nice.”
“You should have asked me if you wanted to get a tour around! Thorn's barely here.”
“You could still show me around a bit. I'm kind of tired from the hike, but wouldn't mind.”
Lucas beams ear to ear; despite how huge he is, there is a boyish quality to the expression that reminds me that he's still her younger brother.
“Yeah!! Perfect. Okay, well,” he enthuses brightly. He looks a bit more sourly at me when he remembers to acknowledge me, but it’s not enough to dampen his excitement from his sister obliging him. I guess he probably thinks she might be coming back around on the whole pack idea. But I know that she must just be trying to have an excuse to get away from me.
And who am I to keep her from what she wants?
I nod towards him, glance once at her, then silently stalk off.
From behind me I hear Lucas scoff derisively.
“So tell me sis: does the stick go all the way up to his brain, or is it just up his ass?”
I take a little bit of satisfaction in hearing the surly bristle of her voice when she replies, challenging him for insulting me.
“Do you want to give me the tour, or not?”
“Okay, okay—this way.”
I walk for a bit just by riled reflex, but eventually remember myself. It doesn't help that I can feel my cock still idly waiting for the chance to spring to action, as though Gwen might just traipse back into view, wet and ready for me.
Maybe I should go and handle myself discreetly, just to try and quell this bullshit baseline I was apparently stuck in. Fuck, I’d really been playing with fire, and now I was certainly burning away.
And now for the hundredth time, it echoes in my mind.
‘ Mate.’
I grumble in frustration and glance around to make sure no one is watching before I reach under my waistband to readjust myself. That memory feels branded into my soul, and I can feel my inner wolf circling hungrily around the thought of it.
The mate bond. I know it's still buried in me, like all the other traces of myself I've had to dig graves for in my heart.
But I can't give in to it. I've hurt her far too much and would hurt her even more. There is no happiness I can provide her that would make up for it, and I know deep down that I will never make her happy or give her the life she more than deserves.
All I would do is hurt her. That is all I can do to other people: hurt them. I’ve barely managed to keep my ledgers in the black with Paige, and that was with a lifetime of effort and imperfect performance as her brother.
But before everything can come bursting to the surface, I smother it all away in stoic silence.
There are things I can never go back to. There are things I can never think about again.
All I can do is keep going forward. For the longest time, that was for Paige and Paige alone. But I have Rowan now.
An ache shoots up through me, and I immediately start walking to go find my sister and get my boy back. I have to be present for Rowan. I have to be strong for Rowan.
Doubt curls like acid in the corners of my mind.
Can I really protect anyone?
I don't answer myself. Instead, I try to think about what sort of state Rowan might be in at this time of day and try to load up my mental queue for taking care of him. Before anything else, I want to be a good father.
It'd be nice to be good at something that wasn't hurting others.