Wolf Decided by Tessa Cole

AUDREY

Knox wokeme with a soft mental nudge and a kiss to my forehead. His wood smoke scent filled my senses first, warm and comforting, then I opened my eyes and fell into wolf-darkened orbs flecked with brilliant shards of green.

Mine. My mate.

Then everything came crashing back. The attack, Bishop being poisoned, and the sea of emotions threatening to drown me. My throat tightened even as I tried to control my emotions for Knox’s sake.

“It’s time to go,” he said his voice gruff. But I knew he wasn’t upset with me. Beneath the drowning sea of desperation and fear was his love for me.

We could do this. We could save Bishop. We would save Bishop.

“Right.” I sat up and moved out of the way and put my boot back on as Deacon and Knox dressed Bishop in a shirt and pair of pants.

I wasn’t sure when Deacon had arrived, but it made sense for someone to help Knox or in the very least someone to bring clothes since I doubted Knox could leave Bishop’s side at the moment, even if he wanted to.

It also made sense that it wasn’t Cyrus since he had to get someone ready to take over running the pack while he was away, for which I was grateful. I still had no idea how to react to Cyrus after he’d apologized, and I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure it hadn’t been a stress-induced — or Sterling-induced — hallucination.

“Ready?” Deacon asked as he handed Knox this realm’s equivalent of a kilt, something the huntmaster only ever wore. I’d never seen him in anything else and even though we’d had dinner a few times while Knox was away hunting for the pack, it was still a struggle not to ogle him.

How could I not? The man was built, each muscle mouth-wateringly defined, and the kilt put almost all of it on display. He also radiated a sharp feral quality and was constantly releasing a trickle of alpha power, unable to fully contain the force within him that was just as strong as Bishop, Knox, and possibly even Cyrus.

All of that equaled a magnetic pull that made it hard to look away… well hard if he hadn’t been standing beside Knox.

Knox was a pull on my soul that I couldn’t deny and didn’t want to. It didn’t matter that he was gorgeous, his body just as beautifully defined as Deacon’s, his face the picture of a dark angel. I’d have loved him regardless of his stunning looks because he was mine, but having a handsome mate certainly didn’t hurt.

Knox wrapped the kilt around his waist then pulled Bishop into his arms, easily lifting him.

“You good?” Deacon asked, turning his attention to me, the deep laugh lines around his eyes crinkling and his lips quirking as if he’d thought of something amusing but wasn’t going to share with the class. “Need me to carry you?”

Knox groaned and glared at him, making Deacon chuckle and me feel like I’d missed part of a conversation.

“You know I had to offer,” Deacon said with a shrug.

“You know she’d have asked for help if she wanted it,” Knox huffed.

“You know she wouldn’t,” Deacon shot back.

“And you both know I’m standing right here,” I cut in before the conversation continued as if I weren’t around. “I’m fine for now, thank you,” I told Deacon. “And I’ll ask for help if I need it. I learned the first time after not mentioning my blisters.”

Deacon cocked an eyebrow, drawing my attention to his golden brown eyes that were bright with curiosity. “Blisters?”

“She walked north until her feet bled and didn’t tell anyone. Not even Bishop,” Knox replied as we hurried away from my semi-private patio toward the Residence’s gate and the town beyond.

My foot throbbed with every step, and I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my gait as even as possible while acknowledging the irony of the conversation. Knox and Bishop needed me to be strong and I couldn’t afford for Cyrus to think I was too weak to travel with them even if he’d said I was going and had apologized for his earlier behavior.

He could still change his mind and I’d fight him again if I had to, but I’d rather not. Looking like I was going to be useful and not a burden was the best place to start.

“I was trying to not be a nuisance,” I said, somehow finding myself half walking half jogging between Bishop and Deacon because of their much longer legs.

“And not trying to prove you could keep up with experienced hunters,” Deacon chuckled, ruffling my hair as if I were an annoying little sister. “Sure you were.”

“Hands off,” Knox growled.

A possessive anger rushed through our bond, and his wolf fully darkened his eyes, taking over.

“You bet.” Deacon took a step away and raised his hands. “But you know you’re not the one in charge. She is.”

“And if she wants you to touch her, she’ll tell you,” Knox’s wolf snarled with a sharp glare before turning away from the main road and taking a dark, narrow alley even though the light was still the pre-dawn gray before the sunrise and the streets were empty.

Despite the lack of people around, I could still feel the tension building inside Knox, the one that screamed too close, too tight, not enough space and sky and air.

Of course, I had no idea if this was how he always felt walking through Stonehaven or if the current circumstances were exacerbating his claustrophobia. Which didn’t really matter. He needed me to get through this just like I needed him.

I placed my hand against his arm and sent as much love as I could muster with my own emotions going crazy.

With a groan, he sucked in a deep breath, some of the tension melting away as I helped steady his soul, and we hurried forward, rushing down dark alley after dark alley, Deacon not saying a word about our route.

A moment later, we reached a main road leading up to a large square only fifty feet ahead where Cyrus, Whil, and Nova waited beside a cart big enough to fit Bishop and Knox and our supplies.

The cart was plain — no decoration or even a coat of paint — had four wheels so whoever was pulling didn’t also have to hold up the front, and a push bar that had been wrapped in fabric to cushion the pusher’s hands.

Someone had laid out a pile of blankets on the cart bed, and Knox laid Bishop on top of them. Just above Bishop’s head were five travel packs, and two sturdier packs that were, without a doubt, waterproof and likely held Whil’s books and supplies.

“Up you go, Audrey,” Cyrus said his voice strange, still gruff but also strained as if he didn’t know how to speak to me anymore.

He gestured to the cart without hesitation and a tension that had blended in with all the other things worrying me eased. I wasn’t going to have to fight my instincts and work up the nerve to argue with him again.

“Stay off your foot for two days. Give it time to heal,” Nova said as Whil climbed into the cart with me, and Knox stepped to the side and held Bishop’s hand.

“The pack is yours and Lucius’s,” Cyrus said to Nova. He ducked under the cart’s push bar and got into position while Deacon tossed his kilt into the cart and shifted into his large gray wolf. “Keep an ear on the rumor mill.”

Nova gave him a knowing look and nodded her understanding.

If I hadn’t been so worried about saving Bishop and keeping Knox sane, Cyrus’s comment would have renewed my uncertainty about being accepted by the pack. Sure there’d been nice people at the festival, but there’d still been those who’d felt brave enough to give me dirty looks even while I was with Bishop. Which meant there were others who’d smiled at me because of Bishop but still didn’t like me.

Which wasn’t a problem to worry about. Not until we’d saved Bishop.

Nothing else would matter if he died.