“What does it feel like, when you turn?” I asked.
He laced his fingers through mine and nibbled on the pads of my fingertips. “The first time, it was like being ripped in two. I knew it was coming. Everyone in my line can change, from my grandfather to my great-aunt Doris. I knew what was happening, and it still scared the hell out of me. As you get older, become more practiced, it doesn’t hurt as much. I don’t even notice it now.”
I ran my free hand along the line of his back. “I expected some gross Stan Winston skin-ripping thing. It just looks like a trick of light, like your human form is some sort of mirage . . . it’s a pretty mirage, considering. So, you were the leader for your pack, right? The alpha?”
Cooper’s brow furrowed.
“Evie,” I explained.
He rolled his eyes. “My cousin has a big mouth. Every generation has an alpha. It’s not hereditary. You never know who it’s going to be. One day, you’re just a bunch of stupid adolescent pups, getting used to your new abilities; and the next, somebody you’ve known all your life tells you to do something, and you do it without even thinking about it.”
“What, like being brainwashed?”
“No, it’s nothing that cruel. Think about real wolves. They have to work together to make sure that everybody in the pack is fed, healthy. They’re conditioned to work in harmony under a clear social rule: Obey the alpha. Werewolves have all those little human flaws that wolves don’t—pride, anger, lust—so our pack instincts have to be that much stronger. So, when the alpha tells you to do something, even if you know that what he’s asking is stupid or dangerous, you’ll do it. And you’re happy to do it, you’re compelled to, because it’s for the good of the pack. You need that community, the common purpose, because without it, you have nothing.”
“Yeah . . . I’m still hearing brainwashing.”
“OK, when I say it out loud, it does sound bad,” he conceded. “But my grandfather was happy being a foot soldier. He described pack life as being part of something bigger than yourself, serving a greater purpose, sharing the best part of your life with your best friends. That’s what I wanted.”
“I don’t understand. It’s a pack of wolves, not an army,” I said.
“Well, in a way, it is. The alpha serves as a sort of leader for the village, making important decisions for the pack and its families. The pack also chases off threats like wild animals, criminals, or just plain undesirables. I had a hard time sending people I cared about into a fight. I took a lot onto myself. And I hurt people. I hurt a lot of people.”
“I don’t believe that,” I said, careful to resist my urge to back away from him, to put space between us. It had taken me this long to get close to Cooper; rejecting him now was unacceptable.
He caught my chin and forced me to look him in the eye. “Believe it.”
“Fine, I don’t believe you could hurt someone unless you had no other choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” he insisted. “And I made a lot of bad ones. I couldn’t live with what I’d done, what it did to my family, so I left.”
I got the impression that was probably the most detailed explanation I was going to get at this point, which was maddening. So I switched tactics. “What about your dad?” I asked carefully. “Was he happy being a foot soldier?”
“I never really got to talk to him about it.” Cooper stared down at our hands. “My dad died in an accident when I was little. He was running with the pack, and one of my uncles was caught in one of those cage traps. Bunch of scientists were tagging wolves, tracking their movements for research. Pretty harmless, really. We’re usually able to avoid them, but my uncle, Samson’s dad, wasn’t very bright when it came to stuff like that. Dad volunteered to stay behind to try to get my uncle free, when the researchers came back to check the traps. Dad was still a wolf, and he got aggressive. They had a rifle. My uncle got free, but my dad, he was hurt pretty bad— shot in the head. He managed to make it into the woods so my uncle could bring him home. They couldn’t do anything for him.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “The humans didn’t know what they were doing. It took me a while, a long while, to stop being angry with them. They were being attacked by a huge, angry wolf. You’ve seen what I can do. Can you blame them?” When I didn’t answer, he seemed annoyed by my silence but continued. “Samson’s dad took off a while after that. He couldn’t stand seeing us every day, feeling like it was his fault that we didn’t have my father anymore. Samson’s mom died when he was a baby, so he moved in with us. He was always more brother than cousin, anyway.”
“Don’t you miss that? Would you ever go back, do you think, to be part of the pack again?”
He shook his head. “My mom comes to visit. I see Samson every once in a while. And our cousin Caleb helps me with hunting parties whenever he’s in town, which isn’t often. My sister . . . it’s pretty complicated with her. I haven’t been home in a couple of years. Every time I tried to visit, it just ended in an ugly scene.”
“Why?”
Cooper looked as if he was on the verge of telling me something important, then switched mental lanes before it could come out of his mouth. “She feels betrayed, like I left just to spite her or something. And she’s always been so damn pigheaded. Once she makes up her mind that you’ve screwed her over, you’re on her shit list for life.”
“And I assume that she doesn’t settle for the time-honored Southern tradition of passive-aggressive comments and insulting your cooking?”
“The last time I was home, I lost part of an ear and three fingertips.”
“Jesus!” I exclaimed, tilting his head so I could inspect both of his perfectly normal ears.
He butted his head against my hand playfully, pushing it away. “They grew back. It stung like hell, but they grew back. Maggie’s always been pretty hard-core. She had to run the fastest, fight the hardest, kill the biggest game. As much as I loved Samson, she was the one I wanted at my side and covering my back. Being in the pack, that’s her whole existence. There aren’t a lot of places in the world where a girl like Maggie can feel normal, accepted. I mean, there are lots of women in the pack but no one like her. And instead of feeling like she has to apologize for it, she’s admired. She knows how rare that is, so she puts what’s best for the pack above anything else. I left the pack, so I’m no good to her.”
“But that’s crazy.”
He shrugged. “That’s life in the pack. Maggie serves as second to a guy named Eli. He’s running things now.”
“I’m sorry.”
He pulled me close, tucking his chin on top of my head. “There’s nothing anyone can do about it.”
“Industrial-grade sedatives for your sister sound like a good place to start.”
He snorted. I pressed my face into his throat. I didn’t want to look up at him for what I was going to ask next.
“So, on to more recent history. I get why you pretended not to know me when we were introduced at the saloon. I mean, what were you supposed to say, ‘Hey, I remember you from bringing down an elk right outside your door’? But after the . . . after I was attacked, why did you act like you didn’t know what happened? You were there. You saw. And you still acted like . . .”
“A complete ass,” he said, cupping my face so I met his gaze. “The first time I saw you, I thought I’d dreamed you up. I couldn’t tell whether it was a real dream or something I’d seen as a wolf. I used to do sweeps by your house at night. At first, I think it was just because you had all those animals tromping through your yard and the hunting was good. I remembered little things, like picking up your scent near the house and feeling warm, calm. I wanted to flop down on the porch and sleep. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from coming back over and over. I’m used to the compulsive, instinctual side of my nature, but it was still confusing, that primal part of my brain leading me here every night, just to be near you. It was stronger even than my instinct to return home to my pack. It was such a relief to have one trump the other, like my ears had been ringing for years and suddenly stopped. I was able to sleep, really sleep, for the first time since I left home. As I saw you more and more in my wolf form, I realized I always remembered you the next morning. Your face, your scent, the sound of your voice—they follow me back into my human form. You’re my constant. You don’t fade away.”
“But why were you so horrible to me, even after the alley?”
“Because I hadn’t figured it out yet. I couldn’t tell the difference between real dreams and wolf dreams yet.
