Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [72]
Braden squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his forehead against the door. “Fine.” He couldn’t fight the change that long anyway.
“If I need to, I’ll pick the lock and let you in, okay?” His mother’s hand trailed across his shoulder, but didn’t ease any of the tension in his muscles. He nodded and she silently walked away. He took another bracing breath and silenced the instinct that was trying to force the shift long enough for him to strip out of his clothes. The moment he was free of the fabric he slid into the wolf.
It was instant relief and instant torture. His muscles no longer ached and his awareness was no longer consumed with the need to change. But as a wolf he clearly heard Beth’s muffled cries and the unsteady click of her claws against the wood that told him how stiff she was. The door shielded nothing of her agony from him, but prevented any attempt he could make to soothe her.
It was beyond frustrating. Bad enough she’d spent the entire day avoiding him, either physically placing herself on the other side of the room, or pretending he wasn’t there at all. Worse was when Lucy wrung a laugh or a smile out of her. Or when his mother spoke with her in low, easy tones. Worst of all had been her ease around Mike. She didn’t flinch away when he gently touched her shoulder or examined her wounds. She’d even joked with him! But the moment they were alone, the moment he thought he might have a chance to apologize, she’d slammed the door on him and gone to sleep. And now she’d shut him out again.
Braden paced the length of the hall, his claws clicking against the polished wood floor. He paused, rotating one large ear toward his room. A heavy exhale and a thump carried through the door. Then nothing. He pushed his head against the door, not bothering to conceal the whine that slid out of his throat.
No response.
He paced for over an hour. Once or twice he’d heard the excited barks of the rest of his family after Chase’s howl had cut across the night. He’d cocked his head, his ears trained in the direction of the sounds, and wondered if they’d found a deer or a rabbit to hunt. He couldn’t bring himself to find out.
“I hoped if I left you alone you’d go on outside.” His mother’s voice carried down the hall as she mounted the top of the stairs. “But seeing as you are determined to wear a path in floor, I suppose I better interfere.”
His mother heaved a long-suffering sigh and pulled out the slender screwdriver she used to tighten the joints on her reading glasses. “Are you sure about this? She seemed determined to do this on her own.” His mother hesitated by the door, studying the handle as if it held all the answers. “She’s been forced enough already—maybe you should let her rest. She’s safe in there for tonight.”
Braden plopped to the floor, let his shoulders hunch, his ears droop and eyes go wide. When she didn’t notice, he produced the most suffering whimper he could manage. His mother’s gaze immediately snapped to him, her expression softening.
“Stop that.”
Braden whined a little louder.
His mother’s expression broke. “Someday that’s not going to work on me.” She inserted the screwdriver into the tiny hole in the doorknob and pushed. “I don’t know what you’ll do then.”
Braden heard the lock click open and a second later Beth startled to her feet, paws scrabbling against the wood, carrying her away from the door. He leaped to his feet and brushed against his mother’s side in an impatient thank-you. When she didn’t push the door open fast enough, he scratched at the wood by the doorjamb.
“Cut it out. Don’t make me regret this.” She pushed the door open wide enough for him to slide in. “And come morning I better not find your clothes still cluttering up my hallway!”
The door snicked shut behind him as Braden searched the room for Beth. A soft growl jerked his head around toward the window. She stood by the window, under the fall of moonlight, stick thin, hackles raised and growling defensively. He inspected her closely from