The mushy feeling was instantly replaced with revulsion and bile. To touch or attempt to steal another’s mate was one of the vilest, most despicable things one could do to another wolf. That he’d waited until Raine was at his weakest when he’d attempted to take advantage spoke of his cowardice too. As far as Doc was concerned, Luka was a pariah. A beautiful, smoldering outcast who needed to take himself back to the wilderness and stay there since he couldn’t be trusted to act responsibly.

  “Can’t he stay in?” Luka asked softly.

  “He can stay. You need to go. I would suggest that in the future you keep your hands to yourself,” Doc stated in a harsh tone. “And keep those bandages dry or you’ll be right back here.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Do better than try. I’d like to avoid the unpleasantness of having to spend a single second more in your company,” Doc informed him and watched the frown lines appear between Luka’s eyes. His mouth widened into a small O, and Doc realized then that it had taken Luka longer than it should have to understand what Doc had said to him.

  Luka glanced down at his side, then back up at Doc, some of the brightness in those gleaming eyes having dimmed, replaced by a sadness that left Luka looking young and vulnerable. It was gone in a flash though, replaced by a look that read to Doc like he’d just solved some sort of a puzzle. He fumbled for the pockets of his hoodie, having to stand to get what he was after.

  “I can pay,” Luka said, pulling something from his pocket and holding it out to Doc, who took it more on instinct than actual interest.

  “I don’t care,” Doc said. “You could offer to build the pack a state-of-the-art clinic to rival the most prestigious of human hospitals, and I still wouldn’t give a damn. What you did to Raine was not okay, and the fact that you can’t seem to understand that tells me the council should seriously reconsider letting you remain on these lands. Now get out!”

  Pointing toward the door, Doc stood glaring at Luka, fuming at the audacity of the wolf to think he could buy atonement. Unlike a human doctor, Doc wasn’t bound to an oath that he would help any and all who needed it. He was the pack doctor, and that’s who he’d taken an oath to care for, not a wolf who’d proven he didn’t belong in a pack in the first place.

  Head down, Luka headed out the door, not necessarily steady on his feet, but that was his problem. Perhaps being truly banished and made an outcast would teach him to think before he did things. Slamming the door behind him, Doc made certain to engage all the locks. It was only as he headed back into the exam room to clean up that he realized he was still clutching the hard object Luka had dropped in his hand.

  Opening it revealed a hunk of wood with an intricately carved possum, her three babies on her back, standing out prominently. A stunning piece of artwork, Doc stared at it, admiring the details, turning it every which way to see the detailing of each tiny claw carefully wrapped around the branch the mama was perched on. Something caught his eye. At first, he thought it another intriguing piece of the carving, until he realized that this new detail was on skin, not wood, and his stomach dropped. There, on his wrist, was the beginning of a bond mark. It should have been a moment of elation; instead, Doc traced his fingers over it, wondering how the fates could be so cruel as to give him a mate his ethics would never let him claim.

  Chapter Two

  THE AFTERNOONS WERE growing as cold as the mornings and nights. Soon, it wouldn’t be safe to bathe outdoors, and he’d be forced to haul water in and heat it in front of the fire when he wanted to get clean. The water was brisk. Best to get it over with and submerge himself at once. Glancing down at his side, Luka checked one last time to be certain his wound was closed completely, his gaze happening upon the beginning swirls of a bond mark on his wrist.

  It was nothing like he’d imagined it would be. He’d dreamed of hugs, hand-holding, and long walks through the forest like his parents used to share, teasing laughter, his mate’s hand stroking his hair. Instead, he’d been told, Get out, I don’t care, I don’t give a damn. It was the tone, more than anything, that had hurt the worst. Venomous fury, the rumble of an angry growl; Luka’s wolf had whined and wanted to roll over on his back, presenting his throat to the other wolf, even if it meant Doc would tear it out. He’d never felt an urge like that before.

  And you won’t ever again, his inner voice hissed, drawing another whine from his wolf. Ducking his head beneath the water’s surface stopped the tears from spilling down his cheeks. He always got it wrong. No matter how hard he tried, it never turned out the way he imagined. That night in the forest, in those moments before he’d stupidly acted, he’d watched Raine clutching the tree, swaying, and expected to see someone at his side in an instant.

  When that didn’t happen, he decided to sweep in, a whole scenario running through his head as he did. In it, Raine had wrapped his arms around Luka’s neck and allowed himself to be carried back to Comet Lake. They’d sit together along the bank, Raine curled against his chest as they watched the lanterns drift toward the sky, their tiny flames glowing in the darkness. Flames and stars were such a pretty combination when the fire wasn’t destroying things.

  Standing, he smoothed the hair back from his eyes, rivulets of water streaming down his face. A hard gust of wind left him shivering, teeth clenched to keep them from chattering while he washed up.

  “Lovely, it’ll be hours before the fish are out and biting again.”

  The new voice was entirely unexpected and sounded nothing like the one in his head that mocked him all the time. Blinking, he rubbed the water from his eyes to see Doc standing on the bank, fishing gear and a picnic basket in his hands, glaring at him.

  “Why come way out here to fish?” Luka mused, gazing around them. It was rare for anyone to venture this far away from town alone, even while hunting. The woods here were thicker, darker, and easier to get lost in. Luka knew these things firsthand; after all, he’d grown up out here and knew exactly what it took to survive on one’s own. Doc looked clean and soft, even in hip waders and a floppy fishing hat, two hooks in the brow.

  “One of the joys of fishing is being able to escape to a peaceful place, alone, where one can hear themselves think,” Doc snapped, still scowling.

  “How’d you even find this pond?”

  “Doc Washington drew me a map, months ago. I never had the opportunity to use it until now.”

  “He hasn’t been out here in a while,” Luka acknowledged, sad at the loss of one of the few members of the pack who had been a persistent presence in his life.

  “He broke his hip last winter; it didn’t heal well, so he doesn’t venture too far out of town anymore,” Doc replied, even as he questioned why he bothered telling Luka that when he should already be turning around and stalking away.

  “Could you tell him, when you see him next, that I said hello, and that the fish are biting again over by the old mill? We tried that spot for years and never caught anything.”

  “Do I look like a messenger service to you?” Doc hissed.

  Luka shook his head because he wasn’t sure what a messenger service was but didn’t want Doc to think he was stupid. While Luka was still trying to muster up the courage to ask if Doc had a bond mark, the older wolf turned and began to walk away.

  “Wait!” Luka called out, leveraging himself halfway out of the water. “After you patched me up the other night, did you end up with one of these?”

  Luka waved his wrist at Doc, hoping he’d take a moment to study it. Instead, Doc gave it a brief glance, wrinkled his nose, and turned his back again.

  “I did,” Doc barked and resumed walking away.

  “But…wait!” Luka called out. “It’s supposed to mean you’re my—”

  “Get one thing straight!” Doc growled, fury pushing his wolf close to the surface. “You are nothing to me. You will never be anything to me. If I see you skulking around my clinic or my home, I will petition the council to remove you from these lands so fast you’ll think you’ve been tossed out by a tornado.”

  Without a backward glance, Doc disappeared into the forest, leaving Luka stunned at the outburst. His wolf whined, and the voice that loved to remind him of what a failure he was just laughed at the fact that he’d already lost one third of his tri-bond without ever getting a single hug. Barely suppressing the urge to lift his face to the heavens and howl, he settled for angrily dragging his hand over the surface of the water, flinging it everywhere.

  The tears did fall then because he couldn’t remember what hugs felt like anymore. He couldn’t even remember what his mother’s smile looked like, or the sound of his father’s laugh. The years had sort of melted together out here, and with no reason to know which year they were in, he hadn’t bothered to keep count. He just knew that in the last few, his wolf had grown more restless, lonely, and despondent. There were times when he shifted, and instead of running, all his wolf wanted to do was lie among the clovers and nap.

  You are nothing to me!

  Nothing. Not even a ghost or the whisper of a memory. He knew nothing as intimately as he knew the trails that ran through these woods. It wasn’t a new condition for him, but the thought of facing it every day for the remainder of his existence was daunting and liable to drive him mad and cost him his wolf in the process. Yet each time he’d tried to force himself to approach the council about a place to live in town where he’d be closer to the pack, the daunting voice in his head reminded him that he deserved to live in isolation, even if it was self-imposed. Had he been able to help his family when they’d needed them most, he wouldn’t be alone today.

  Some days it grew harder and harder to feel, like he couldn’t wake his wolf. Those were the days when he foraged, hoping for leftover scraps from something else’s kill. Often, he was reminded of the old legends, of how some wolves fell so in love with their human forms that they stopped shifting back to their wolves, until one day, they realized they were stuck and unable to tap into their wolves anymore. Ostracized by their packs in some stories and unable to stand seeing the pitying stares in others, the wolves eventually formed colonies of their own. United in the pain of losing all they were meant to be.

  Luka loved his wolf, but he hated the hopeless, lethargic feeling that came whenever he let it out. At the clinic, he’d wanted to ask the doctor if he might know what was wrong with it, but this new doc had been nothing like Doc Washington, who never would have yelled at him like that.

  And he’s your mate, the voice in his head laughed, its mocking echo making him cringe and huddle against the rocks, cold and aching in more ways than just physical.

  You will never be anything to me! He understood never as clearly as he understood nothing. Never was when he’d see his folks and his sisters again, never was when he’d forget the sound of their screams as the flaming ceiling caved in, never was when he would stop feeling there had to have been something, anything he could have done to get them out.

  Shivering, he sloshed out of the water before the part of him that wished to duck its head under the surface and stay that way grew any stronger. Wrapping his hair in a faded towel, he stared down at his reflection in the water, imagining what it would have been like if Doc had stayed. Luka could have shown him a better fishing spot and joined him for the afternoon. They could talk about the coming winter and whatever was taking place in town. Doc Washington used to share tidbits of gossip with him, helping him keep connected with the pack as the years rolled on.

  He rubbed the water from his skin a bit rougher than was necessary, leaving the area around some of his fading scars a bit red. The wind picked up on the short walk back to his house. Had Doc even realized how close they were to Luka’s home, the prime reason he used this spot to bathe in? Doubtful, or he suspected the man wouldn’t have come out this way, given his feelings about being anywhere around Luka.

  The door he entered was a faded yellow, like the walls in the kitchen he stepped into. The room to the left had become his bedroom after his original one had burned, while the one to the right he used to house the wooden creations he made. Thinking back to the possums, he wondered if Doc had kept it, or if the man had thrown it into the first fire he’d come to. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

  Wood creaked in the wrecked part of the house the harder the wind blew. The cold would be seeping in soon. For years, Doc Washington had tried to get him to allow a team of builders to dismantle the wreckage and rebuild the house or build him a new one altogether. Sometimes, he’d make comments about how Luka would never be able to let the tragedy go if he continued to live in the wreckage of it. The kind old wolf had never seemed to understand that Luka didn’t want to let go. How could he when it was all he had left?

  Move into town, be close to others his age, make friends, all wonderful suggestions, but not ones Luka had ever been able to bring himself to do. He couldn’t abandon them here. Couldn’t abandon their home for the forest and the critters to claim.

  Maybe it was for the best that Doc didn’t want him. What good would he have been to a man who already had a life among the pack and didn’t spend his nights wrestling with demons? Sprawling across his bed, he tried to ignore his rumbling stomach, reminding him of his intention to catch lunch after his bath.

  Oh well, perhaps there were some berries left in the bottom of the pail. Though even as he thought it, he was reminded that he’d finished the last of the fresh ones for his breakfast. The only ones he had left now were the ones he’d dried. He hated getting into them until there was so much snow flying that he couldn’t hunt in it, the same as with the smoked fish. The longer he could make his rations stretch, the less of the cold he would have to endure. It was hard to warm up afterward. The time spent curled in a ball shivering didn’t seem worth the small reprieve from hunger hunting would bring.

  Closing his eyes, he tried to will himself back to sleep, but all he found in the darkness were memories.

  “Pretty!”

  Lily squealed and pointed at the bond mark on their mother’s wrist, the red, browns, and golds swirling in fine lines and patterns, reaching from front to back.

  “Closed means complete,” she explained as Lily traced over it with a chubby little finger. Luka had heard the stories before, but that didn’t stop him from staying to listen again.

  “Your father and I met when we crashed headlong into one another while pouncing on the same grouse. To this day, he still insists that he was tracking it first, but I was the one with it thrashing beneath my paws, feathers flying everywhere. Needless to say, I was taking the grouse home, even if that meant your father followed me the whole way, indignantly protesting.”

  “Daddy get grouse?”

  Their mother tickled Lily’s foot, and the little girl squirmed and giggled.

  “Daddy did get to have grouse that night, but he had to wait for Mommy and Grandma to cook it,” she explained. “It was a funny thing though. After that day, I started bumping into him more often, literally. We lost more than one meal fussing about who was going to catch it. By the time we gave in and started learning how to hunt together, our bond mark had formed.”

  “Where mine?” Lily asked, pointing to her own wrist, making their mother laugh and tickle her more.

  “Silly girl, you have to grow up first.”

  Only Lily had never been given the opportunity to grow up; the fire had stolen that. On the wall beside his bed were three crinkled drawings. He’d found them in the woods a few days after the fire, singed in places, but mostly intact. Colorful crayon lines decorated them. A pink flower with a plump bee. The moon surrounded by a bunch of crooked stars. A chipmunk, or perhaps a squirrel, perched on a skinny branch, a pile of acorns down below, Lily’s name printed in the corner. She’d still been struggling with her ys—one branch of it running through the l beside it.

  Running fingers through still damp hair, Luka lay there trying to breathe and not succumb to the memories. Too bad that never worked. So much for rest. Rolling from the bed, he shambled to his workshop, the smell of several different kinds of wood mingling in his nose. On the workbench beneath the window, several pieces sat unfinished, but none appealed to him. Instead, he took up a fresh chunk, about the length of his arm, and sat turning it over in his hands, trying to get a feel for what it wanted to be.

  Too bad the only image seared in his head was the doctor’s angry face twisted into a sneer. Taking up the smallest knife, he slowly began carving those furious eyes. Narrow, with deep furrows between them. He added the curly hair next, letting it frame a hard face. There had been a moment though, when he’d first woken up, when there had been tenderness and concern. He hated that just saying his name had caused that to change.

  Slivers of wood curled and flaked on the bench around him, even as the sun began to sink beneath the treeline. His wolf’s night vision wasn’t what it used to be, forcing him to put down his tools. He was beyond hungry now.

  It was too dark to hunt with only a sliver of moon to guide him. Left little choice, he retrieved a single filet of smoked fish and a handful of dried berries, barely tasting them he was so ravenous. At least that would sate him until morning.

  Back in his room, he crawled onto the bed and pulled his pillow into his arms, hugging it and cuddling it close. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine what it would feel like to have arms wrapped around him again. Rubbing his face against the pillow in his arms, tears made his eyes itch. The doctor’s voice echoed in his ears again. If only he could have made him understand that Raine had never been in any danger from him.

  Had he mistakenly hurt Raine without realizing it?

  The thought left his stomach churning.

  He’d tried to be gentle, even when attempting to get Raine to let go of the tree. He hadn’t pulled as hard as he could have, and he’d talked to him the whole time, trying to explain what he was doing and why. He’d even tried to hug him, but he must have done it wrong because that was when Raine bit him. It wasn’t hard though, just a few teeth impressions in the skin and one small hole. He’d thought Raine was simply confused, like when he’d gotten scratched up by a raccoon while trying to remove its paw from a trap. It hadn’t known he was trying to help it, so how could it be blamed for reacting like that?

 

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