until his older brother was at the tree line before he called out to him. “Gun?”
The wolf stopped and looked back towards him.
“You know the interesting thing about spinning tops?”
The wolf’s gaze remained steady.
“They never set themselves spinning out of control. It’s other people who do that. The thing itself doesn’t actually have any choice in the matter, does it?”
Caden took Gunnar’s pissed-off growl as a signal that his words had been heard, even if he was sure their actual meaning had gone straight over Gunnar’s head.
Pulling his knees up in front of him, Caden drew a line on the bare skin along one of his thighs. His fingertip went around and around in a complex little pattern. His eyes followed its every movement. Just like a spinning top, there was no real way for him to work out in advance where the pattern would go next, all he could do was watch carefully and pray.
Finally, Caden caught hold of the fingertip with his other hand and held it still, unable to watch its progress for another second. His eyes dropped closed. His grip on his own finger gradually turned painful. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he closed them tighter.
Perhaps it wasn’t entirely impossible to give the top a little push in the right direction—if a wolf were careful and subtle and…
Caden opened his eyes. He’d been away from Alfred’s side for quite long enough. Rising gracefully to his feet, he quickly completed his own shift and set off in the opposite direction to his brother.
Within minutes the farmhouse was within sight. He let his paws carry him straight through the kitchen door without bothering to turn back into his human form. Voices floated out from the main hall as he passed the kitchen table. Tilting his head slightly to one side as he forced his lupine senses to pay attention and make sense of the human words, he made his way forward.
“…Alfred…”
That one name came through to him loud and clear. He shifted in the doorway, steadying himself on the frame as he swayed. “Pardon?”
Marsdon and Bennett both turned to look at him. “What?”
Caden pushed his hair back off of his face as he cleared his throat. “You were talking about Alfred,” he said, with a respectful little dip of the eyes.
“He’s gone. Disappeared without telling anyone where the hell he’s going,” Marsdon said, anger clinging to each syllable.
A shiver ran down Caden’s spine. He practically felt the blood drain from his face, too.
“We hoped he‘d joined you on your run and forgotten to tell anyone. Hell knows what kind of mischief he’s got himself into now,” the alpha went on.
Caden turned away from them both without a word. He was back on four paws by the time he reached the door leading to the courtyard. His claws scrabbled against the cobblestones as he tried to rush across them faster than lupine legs could carry him. He vaguely heard someone call out to him, but he couldn’t stop.
The yells changed to barks and growls. A moment later, Caden felt the unmistakeable sensation of running as part of a pack. Marsdon and Bennett were larger wolves than him, with longer legs. They easily caught up with him. Caden saw them out of the corners of his eyes as they flanked him, running at either side of him as he rushed towards the river works.
That’s where Alfred would be, Caden had no doubt about that. The only thing he was less sure about was what sort of condition the other man would be in when they found him. A wolf would have to be a fool to try to tackle that sort of work on his own. If he was less than up to his neck in river mud or ice cold water it would be a bloody miracle.
Caden knew he could make sure Alfred became a good wolf. He could make sure the man he loved found his rightful place in the pack, too. But he couldn’t bring a wolf back from the dead.
There were some things even pretty blond hair or a charming smile couldn’t achieve.
Chapter
The wolf stopped and looked back towards him.
“You know the interesting thing about spinning tops?”
The wolf’s gaze remained steady.
“They never set themselves spinning out of control. It’s other people who do that. The thing itself doesn’t actually have any choice in the matter, does it?”
Caden took Gunnar’s pissed-off growl as a signal that his words had been heard, even if he was sure their actual meaning had gone straight over Gunnar’s head.
Pulling his knees up in front of him, Caden drew a line on the bare skin along one of his thighs. His fingertip went around and around in a complex little pattern. His eyes followed its every movement. Just like a spinning top, there was no real way for him to work out in advance where the pattern would go next, all he could do was watch carefully and pray.
Finally, Caden caught hold of the fingertip with his other hand and held it still, unable to watch its progress for another second. His eyes dropped closed. His grip on his own finger gradually turned painful. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he closed them tighter.
Perhaps it wasn’t entirely impossible to give the top a little push in the right direction—if a wolf were careful and subtle and…
Caden opened his eyes. He’d been away from Alfred’s side for quite long enough. Rising gracefully to his feet, he quickly completed his own shift and set off in the opposite direction to his brother.
Within minutes the farmhouse was within sight. He let his paws carry him straight through the kitchen door without bothering to turn back into his human form. Voices floated out from the main hall as he passed the kitchen table. Tilting his head slightly to one side as he forced his lupine senses to pay attention and make sense of the human words, he made his way forward.
“…Alfred…”
That one name came through to him loud and clear. He shifted in the doorway, steadying himself on the frame as he swayed. “Pardon?”
Marsdon and Bennett both turned to look at him. “What?”
Caden pushed his hair back off of his face as he cleared his throat. “You were talking about Alfred,” he said, with a respectful little dip of the eyes.
“He’s gone. Disappeared without telling anyone where the hell he’s going,” Marsdon said, anger clinging to each syllable.
A shiver ran down Caden’s spine. He practically felt the blood drain from his face, too.
“We hoped he‘d joined you on your run and forgotten to tell anyone. Hell knows what kind of mischief he’s got himself into now,” the alpha went on.
Caden turned away from them both without a word. He was back on four paws by the time he reached the door leading to the courtyard. His claws scrabbled against the cobblestones as he tried to rush across them faster than lupine legs could carry him. He vaguely heard someone call out to him, but he couldn’t stop.
The yells changed to barks and growls. A moment later, Caden felt the unmistakeable sensation of running as part of a pack. Marsdon and Bennett were larger wolves than him, with longer legs. They easily caught up with him. Caden saw them out of the corners of his eyes as they flanked him, running at either side of him as he rushed towards the river works.
That’s where Alfred would be, Caden had no doubt about that. The only thing he was less sure about was what sort of condition the other man would be in when they found him. A wolf would have to be a fool to try to tackle that sort of work on his own. If he was less than up to his neck in river mud or ice cold water it would be a bloody miracle.
Caden knew he could make sure Alfred became a good wolf. He could make sure the man he loved found his rightful place in the pack, too. But he couldn’t bring a wolf back from the dead.
There were some things even pretty blond hair or a charming smile couldn’t achieve.
Chapter
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