After the lunar goddess turned her back on her children, the wolves of the modern world have had to adapt. Artificial mating bonds were created and many young wolves are now arranged to mate with those selected by their elders. As is the case for Ba...
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"How is he?" Maggie's warm comforting voice breaks through the darkness.
I stir from my bed of—what the hell am I sleeping on?
Shifting my weight, the sound of paper and plastic crumbling fills my ears but I refuse to open my eyes. Not yet anyway. They're too heavy and my body is too sore, though that bite of pain is exactly what I need right now. It reminds me I'm still here and that all of this isn't some dream.
Where am I?
It's too quiet here. The loft is never this quiet.
"He's better than before. Been sleeping since lunch," Silas' voice answers in the distance.
How long has it been since then? What the hell happened?
I try to think back to this morning but my tired mind is coming up with nothing but fuzzy images and muffled sounds.
"Good, he needs to rest after that," Maggie says, helping to push my mind awake some more. "Was it an episode? Do I need to get some more medicine?"
My ears twitch, trying to listen better.
Someone scoffs. "It wasn't an episode. He was just pissed. We all are."
Leave it to Fang to tell it how it is. I can just imagine Ozzy somewhere close behind him, silently nodding his agreement. It's an image that brings a wolfish grin to my face.
"But we had to throw him in the guest room before he destroyed the entire place," Silas adds.
"Hate to see how it looks in there now," Nico says with a laugh.
Great, so I'm in the guest room.
I'm dreading getting up and checking the damage. From the feel of everything beneath me, I probably fucked things up pretty bad. But most of all, I just don't want to open my eyes and find myself confined in the tiny space. We never use this room even if it is the most private. It's too quiet in here. Too small. But most of all, it's too far away from each other.
Stretching my legs, all four of them, I yawn and open my eyes.
Yup, a fucking mess.
The mattress that never gets used sits in the corner on the floor with claw marks shredding the soft material. The blankets and pillows received the same treatment, leaving fluff and stuffing to litter the cement floor. Any piece of plastic or paper is ripped to pieces too. The ground is covered in trash, some broken pieces of glass included, and more claw marks scar the few pieces of furniture and walls. There's even a couple new dents and holes puncturing the thin sheetrock.
Shit, good job, Tripp.
Turning away from the mess and the makeshift bed I made out of it, I walk towards the cracked door. The pads of my paws tap against the solid ground in the few spots not covered by debris. Once I reach the door, I nudge it the rest of the way open with my nose and stop to look out for any signs that I destroyed more than just the small room behind me.
