on so quickly—that just the mildest hints would have him leaping up and sprinting in the right direction?
True, pushing him away had been the hardest thing Caden had done in his life, but—
“You mean he will be a good wolf when you’ve finished screwing him into submission?” Gunnar demanded. Crouching down at the river’s edge he dipped his hand into the water and scooped up a few mouthfuls with his palm.
Caden’s eyes narrowed as he glared at his brother’s back, but by the time Gunnar had turned back to him he had once more schooled his features into something passive and more suitable for dealing with the beta. “What makes you so sure he’s the one who’ll be submitting to me?”
Gunnar let out a harsh burst of laughter. “Even you’ve got more sense than to let him play the dominant with you. The man’s a fool. No, worse than that—he’s a sadistic little bastard towards anyone weaker than him whenever he thinks he can get away with it.”
“Strange, then,” Caden mused, “that I’ve never known him to take a cheap shot at Talbot.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Gunnar growled, immediately rising to his full height to loom over anyone who would even mention such a possibility.
“Not even before Talbot came under your direct protection?” Caden asked, not in the least bit daunted by the other wolf’s blustering.
“What?” Gunnar demanded.
“I’m pretty sure Alfred had no idea you were even remotely interested in our omega until you two were formally mated,” Caden said. “But I’ve still never heard him snap at Talbot the way he does at everyone else. Don’t you think it strange that out of all the wolves in the pack, it’s the one that everyone agrees he should outrank who’s never had anything to worry about where Alfred is concerned?”
“I think he’s strange in far more ways than that,” Gunnar said.
As Caden stared mildly up at him, the beta’s hackles slowly seemed to go down.
“Why him?” Gunnar finally asked, as he crouched and brought them closer to the same height.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Caden said, idly running his fingers through the moss at his side. “Talbot’s no more my type than Alfred’s yours.”
“Even mentioning their names in the same breath is a bloody insult,” Gunnar snapped, as he threw himself onto the ground next to Caden and glared up at the sky as if the pretty little patch of blue and the warmth of the sunlight had both been created specifically to annoy him.
“Alfred’s a far better wolf than any of our pack realises,” Caden told the clearing, the riverbank and anything else within earshot. They were all more likely to take any notice of his words than Gunnar was.
Right on cue, Caden’s brother huffed his disbelief.
“I see more than you ever will when you look at him,” Caden said, resting his head back against the tree and forcing his words to remain calm no matter how much he wanted to howl them loud enough for everyone he’d ever met to hear.
“And what would you see if you looked at the mess down by the river? It was a simple job, Caden.”
“Far too simple for a wolf with Alfred’s potential,” Caden pointed out. “But as for what I see…” He thought about that for a while. “I just see what any wolf would be able see if they cared enough to look. I see a faltering step on a young shifter’s path towards becoming a good wolf.”
“A damn spinning top would take a more direct route,” Gunnar muttered. With a half sigh, he pushed himself off the ground. He’d barely reached his full height when he started to morph back into his lupine form.
Caden held his brother’s eyes as the more overtly wolfen side of the other man dropped onto all fours before him.
Gunnar turned away, obviously bored with the topic and intending to resume his run now he’d apparently confirmed to his own satisfaction his little brother wasn’t going to do as he was told without one hell of a fight.
Caden waited
True, pushing him away had been the hardest thing Caden had done in his life, but—
“You mean he will be a good wolf when you’ve finished screwing him into submission?” Gunnar demanded. Crouching down at the river’s edge he dipped his hand into the water and scooped up a few mouthfuls with his palm.
Caden’s eyes narrowed as he glared at his brother’s back, but by the time Gunnar had turned back to him he had once more schooled his features into something passive and more suitable for dealing with the beta. “What makes you so sure he’s the one who’ll be submitting to me?”
Gunnar let out a harsh burst of laughter. “Even you’ve got more sense than to let him play the dominant with you. The man’s a fool. No, worse than that—he’s a sadistic little bastard towards anyone weaker than him whenever he thinks he can get away with it.”
“Strange, then,” Caden mused, “that I’ve never known him to take a cheap shot at Talbot.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Gunnar growled, immediately rising to his full height to loom over anyone who would even mention such a possibility.
“Not even before Talbot came under your direct protection?” Caden asked, not in the least bit daunted by the other wolf’s blustering.
“What?” Gunnar demanded.
“I’m pretty sure Alfred had no idea you were even remotely interested in our omega until you two were formally mated,” Caden said. “But I’ve still never heard him snap at Talbot the way he does at everyone else. Don’t you think it strange that out of all the wolves in the pack, it’s the one that everyone agrees he should outrank who’s never had anything to worry about where Alfred is concerned?”
“I think he’s strange in far more ways than that,” Gunnar said.
As Caden stared mildly up at him, the beta’s hackles slowly seemed to go down.
“Why him?” Gunnar finally asked, as he crouched and brought them closer to the same height.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Caden said, idly running his fingers through the moss at his side. “Talbot’s no more my type than Alfred’s yours.”
“Even mentioning their names in the same breath is a bloody insult,” Gunnar snapped, as he threw himself onto the ground next to Caden and glared up at the sky as if the pretty little patch of blue and the warmth of the sunlight had both been created specifically to annoy him.
“Alfred’s a far better wolf than any of our pack realises,” Caden told the clearing, the riverbank and anything else within earshot. They were all more likely to take any notice of his words than Gunnar was.
Right on cue, Caden’s brother huffed his disbelief.
“I see more than you ever will when you look at him,” Caden said, resting his head back against the tree and forcing his words to remain calm no matter how much he wanted to howl them loud enough for everyone he’d ever met to hear.
“And what would you see if you looked at the mess down by the river? It was a simple job, Caden.”
“Far too simple for a wolf with Alfred’s potential,” Caden pointed out. “But as for what I see…” He thought about that for a while. “I just see what any wolf would be able see if they cared enough to look. I see a faltering step on a young shifter’s path towards becoming a good wolf.”
“A damn spinning top would take a more direct route,” Gunnar muttered. With a half sigh, he pushed himself off the ground. He’d barely reached his full height when he started to morph back into his lupine form.
Caden held his brother’s eyes as the more overtly wolfen side of the other man dropped onto all fours before him.
Gunnar turned away, obviously bored with the topic and intending to resume his run now he’d apparently confirmed to his own satisfaction his little brother wasn’t going to do as he was told without one hell of a fight.
Caden waited
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