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Is this a good idea?
Probably not.
I swallow and stare at the dark yellow wood of the door; the thresh-hold of the unknown. I'm not sure if I should be here. Or maybe I should, just for a different reason. Erin assured me that Sunny was fine, but he's ignoring my attempts to contact him. I managed to keep away all of yesterday but now I'm freaking out a little bit.
What will happen if I enter this house? Because I've offended a lot of people on the other side of the door. I guess I could leave. Take Erin's word for it and avoid all McKendricks for the rest of eternity. Plus they have a murderer locked up in their basement, so not entering is a win all around.
I knock.
After a minute the door opens to reveal Clarice. His face is bloated and bruised. He holds himself stiffly. I dread to think what other injuries he has. Why? Why was he hurt too? Did Milton go on a rampage?
"Oh, it's you." He huffs and swings the door open before striding away. I close the door against the icy wind and speed after him.
"Hey," I call, "Are you okay?" I catch up to him in the kitchen, where he's boiling the kettle. He turns a glare on me, narrows his eyes and turns away with a sneer. He looks worse in the light spilling in from the giant windows. I want to say I feel bad, but...this is Clarice. This is probably overdo. "Was it Milton?"
No answer.
"Please. What happened?" I shuffle closer, steadying myself on the counter, tensing. By his coiled energy I know he's going to blow up at me, but that's got to be better than this silent treatment.
"You tell me," he hisses. "What happened, Bunny? One brother not enough for you?"
I flinch and shake my head. "It was a bad idea, okay? I admit that. But Milton wants nothing to do with me, so why am I not free to go off and make all the mistakes I want with my own damn life?"
He stops his angry stirring and whirls on me, indicating his face. "This," Clarice hisses, spit flying, "is why."
"You didn't kiss me," I hiss back, "Why is he beating you up? Sunny didn't even kiss me. I kissed him. If Milton wanted to punish someone, he should have just come after me."
Clarice returns to clashing about, spoon clinking so hard against the cups I'm sure they are going to shatter. "That's probably why Sunny told him, the idiot, to take the brunt of Mill's anger before he shouted bloody murder at you. Also, Sunny is literally the number one fan of the Bunton ship, and to keep it from sinking he decided it was a wonderful idea to take the blame off of you. Sunny is good like that. Too good for you." He gives me a look, daring me to argue. "He's also weak. A runt. No match for an out of control Alpha, so I stepped in. We fight all the time anyway." He shrugs like it's no big deal.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it. I'm just tired of being used. I'm sick of having to sit back and watch him hit on my friend while I'm not even allowed to talk to other guys I might be interested in. Milton chose Georgia. If he's so invested in her now, why does he care what I do?"
"He chose you, Bunny. He realised he could live without being Alpha, but not without you." He sighs and leads me to the table, pushing a huge mug of tea in front of me. It looks handmade and has 'Drum HERE' written on it with some drums painted underneath, and on the other side 'NOT here' over a stylised picture of Clarice with a winning smile on his face.
He sits next to me with a small teacup of his own. "When Mill dropped you off after your field trip he had a panic attack. He had to pull over and called me to come get him. He said he couldn't remember how to drive. But he hadn't. He was just driving in the wrong direction. As soon as he made the decision to turn around and go back for you, he managed to start the car."
Milton came back for me? I wish that didn't make me so damn happy. So validated. Fuck co-dependency. What the hell was this Goddess of their even thinking?
"So imagine my shock when I leave him to go get the love of his life back, and instead get a text from Rin saying that Sunny and you kissed."
Clarice takes my hand, not very gently, and spreads it, palm up. He runs a finger over the scar there. My Mark.
"It'll be alright," he says, surprising me. I think it's supposed to be comforting. He presses his palm to mine and links our fingers. It doesn't feel wrong. There's nothing there between us. Not the connection I feel with Sunny, nor the riot of emotions with Milton.
"Keep your head down. Let Mill cool off." His face darkens. "Just don't fuck this up, Bunny. If you hurt either of my brother's again..."—his fingers lock mine in his, almost painful, bone against bone—"...you will have me to deal with." He holds eye contact for a moment before releasing my hand.
He slurps his tea.
Uncomfortable, I slowly sip at my own mug. The tea burns. A lump in my throat stops me from swallowing so I choke a little instead.
Clarice's eyes flicker toward the mug. "That's not yours."
"Oh."
"That's for you to take to Milton. You're timing sucks. He's with Dad and he's going to need calming down before you attempt to talk."
I don't want to talk to him. I'm too swirled up inside for that. Do I hate him for his past behaviour? Do I understand and forgive him, now that he's explained that he's going through things of his own? Do I trust him when he says he'll change, or do I just get the hell out?
When I enter the lounge it's silent, but the tension is louder than whatever conversation must have preceded it. Mr McKendrick is watching Milton stare out the window, both of their faces stony.
"I'll talk to Samson," Milton says after a beat, sounding like he's agreed to eat mould even though he knows full well it's not penicillin.
"Good lad. Now, let's not scare Torsten away with our dysfunctional family. We can act normal for once." August winks at me and leaves the room. Taking down his brother's head from the entrance hall would probably help.
"Mother's cousin, Torsten is here." It takes me a moment to fully understand that Milton is speaking to me. As soon as we make eye contact a sense of relief strikes me. Okay, maybe I was fooling myself. I came here to check on Sunny, but it's Milton I was truly worried about.
"Oh, that's nice." I make my way over, holding out the giant mug. "I drunk some. Like a tiny bit. I didn't backwash," I mutter, "But I did cough in it, uh, sorry..."
He eyes me intensely. He's angry. No, something else. Amused? Damn, I don't know what that look is, but his lips seal around the lip of the cup and I want them on my skin so bad right now. He's probably an awful kisser. His mouth will be too big, and his tongue too rough, and his teeth too sharp, and it would be absolutely, perfectly awful.
Focus, Bunny.
Clarice strides in and collapses onto the sofa. Then Sunny appears. His lip is swollen but it looks like Milton only got a single hit on him. Sunny doesn't look at me, unlike Clarice's intense gaze. I keep my head lowered. There are so many elephants in this room, it's like a damn circus.
"Torsten is a Skollson bard," Clarice chirps, breaking the silence, "Bards are trained separate from their pack to only tell the truth, to pass on traditions and to be messengers."
The Alpha's thunderous laugh startles me. For some reason Milton pats my head stiffly and then uses the movement to push me down into the armchair by the window. My irritation is lost on him.
Mr McKendrick walks in along with Ylva, a man and a woman.
"Cousin Torsten!" Sunny grins and hugs an equally joyous man. He has an average build and a very long beard decorated with beads. Torsten greets the others, then he turns his smile to me, fidgeting in the armchair, and the giant hovering next to me.
"Is this the famous Bunny Brown? An honour to finally meet you." He comes over and pulls Milton into a tight hug. "Congratulations, you two."
"Bunny, this is Heather, our Delta," Mr McKendrick says, introducing the woman.
Heather snorts. "Delta? More like a glorified paper jockey. I'm basically an underappreciated, overworked intern, who has to fetch your guests instead of your coffee."
"And we would all be lost without you. Imagine the chaos." The Alpha claps her shoulder. "So, what brings you here, Torsten?"
"It's not good news. The Ghostpines have recently suffered losses. A number of their territories in southern Europe were overtaken or destroyed. The local packs no longer tolerate their presence, though why is unclear. Jarl Vidar has agreed to lend them the use of a plot of our land, a temporary arrangement for which they will be required to pay a tithe. It follows that they will be searching for a more permanent settlement to replace the territory they lost. Somewhere defendable with enough room to accommodate any displaced pack members."
The Alpha's face darkens. "Lochden."
Torsten nods, face grave. "It seems increasingly likely. And the way things stand I would not be surprised if my own pack involved themselves further."
"So Vidar has chosen his side?"
"I can't say for certain, but I suggest you attempt to resolve this as soon as possible. I do not wish you or yours to suffer, any more than I wish my own pack to go to war."
War? That's just ridiculous. War? With death and blood and...?
The rest of their conversation is lost on me. I'm vaguely aware of Milton's hand on my shoulder, fingers rubbing soothing circles. It's not until he removes it and begins walking away, that I come back to my body. I stand and hover with unease as everyone moves about, trickling out of the room to discuss the issue further and make preparations.
Before long I find myself alone with Sunny, the crackling fire little help in warming this cold, foreboding feeling in my gut. We lock eyes and the uncertainty is evident on in his features.
It's then I'm certain that I've shattered out friendship into a million jagged shards of something once perfect.
We'll never be the same.
"I really love you, Bunny." Sunny wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, squeezing all the love he can into me. "Just...not like that."
"I know. I'm sorry. I don't like you that way either," I mumble into his shoulder. He pulls back and looks at me in surprise.
"What? You don't?" He whines. Is he seriously disappointed?
"No. I guess I just needed to be close to someone."
"Oh. Here I thought you had this massive crush on me. I started thinking about all the time we spent together. How you're always so clingy."
"What?"
"How you flirted with me over the perfume—"
"I did not!"
"How you looked like you were going to kiss me on the camping trip."
"No, you were going to kiss me!"
"Of course not!" He scoffs.
"It looked mutual," Milton says, sliding back into the room.
Oop.
"But we've established you have no intention of repeating the incident, so I have don't have a problem with you two continuing your friendship. Though I've been told frequently and with great emphasis, that Bunny is an independent woman and therefore doesn't need my permission for anything."
Erin, for sure.
"Besides, aren't you a prison wife now." Milton raises a brow.
Sunny pouts. "No. Asa and I are not romantically involved. That's just gross."
"But you've been spending time with him? Dad says you want to let him free."
"You can't keep him locked away in that cell forever. He's still a person. Just an hour a day on the island with a security detail, that's all I'm asking. He's not perfect, but he loves me and he wants to make me happy. If you never give him a chance, how will you know if you can trust him?"
Milton's cold mask doesn't waver. "It's you I don't trust, Sunny. You're too naïve. You trust too easily."
Sunny's face falls. He turns to me. "Bunny, please. You trust me, don't you? You know I'd never let anything bad happen to you. I know I was wrong to hide him before, I was all over the place. But I'm thinking clearly now. He has no reason to hurt you, or anyone else. He knows I'd never forgive him."
"Don't," Milton growls, "He attacked her. Don't you dare put her in this position."
Sunny glares down at the floor. "This is why I didn't bother asking for your help convincing Dad. You're so sure he's the bad guy, but you know Asa hates you too, right? He didn't. He respected you. Then he saw what you did to my face."
Milton stiffens. Sunny doesn't even look up as he leaves.
Well so much for trying not to think about the murderer in the basement...
The atmosphere is thick. I play with my cross. Do I believe prisoners should have a right to yard time? Sure. Do I think that yard should be the Alpha's open backyard? I don't know. The only way off is by swimming, the dock, or the heavily gated causeway. But am I comfortable with him roaming around what has become my second home? Nope.
The fire pops and crackles. Milton picks his mug up. It's just the right size for him to wrap his hands around it, absently drumming his fingers on Clarice's eye. He looks so tired. These past months seem to have aged him. Gone is the boy who sat and sulked because his Dad made him sit next to me. Now he has a weight to his shoulders.
"Have you been sleeping okay?" I ask softly.
He shrugs. So he's not going to make this easy.
"Is Sunny still not sleeping with you?"
Milton frowns. "You look worried. You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine."
I've been doing nothing but worry about him. Replaying things in my head. Sunny started staying with him at night for a reason.
"You said it was strange being on your own."
"I'm fine. I've been sleeping in with Reece," he admits.
Oh good, I don't have to lie in bed every night alone, stressed and upset, at the thought that Milton is lying in his bed alone, stressed and upset.
Is this how people feel about me? Mum's determination to make me open up makes a lot more sense. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard-headed and dramatic.
"Milton..."
"Is this going to be one of those 'at the risk of making this awkward' things?"
I shut my mouth.
He runs a hand through his hair and sits on the sofa. "Sorry. I'm listening."
"This is exactly why I'm worried. What you told me yesterday was...a lot. And I don't think avoiding the issue is helping. I'm here if you need to talk. Seriously, you can tell me anything, but...have you ever spoken to a professional. That definitely does not include Dr Will. I'm not even sure he's a real doctor. You know instead of a doctorate on his wall, he's got a picture of himself ice fishing?"
Milton frowns. "I'm fine."
I have never been less surprised by an answer. This seems like a 'real men tough it out' kind of bullshit. Is he worried about what his Dad will think? The pack?
"Don't look at me like that." He sighs. "Forget what I said before. I was just feeling guilty, and trying to make up excuses for my poor behaviour. There is no excuse for the way I've treated you, BB. The truth is I'm just a really awful mate, and I need to get over myself and be better."
"Milton...I don't know how stupid you think I am, but brushing this off as you simply not being good enough, isn't going to make me believe that you were just making excuses when you, you know, spoke about not feeling good enough."
He is stubbornly silent. Okay, emotions are off limits. Maybe a more practical approach.
I sit down. "What do you really want? I know leading the pack is important to you, but if it wasn't your responsibility, what would you do with your life?"
"The pack is my life."
I pull a face. Right. Of course. Silly me, thinking he had a personality outside cold, serious Alpha male.
"I've just never thought about it." He shrugs, then snorts. "That's a lie. I did once, when I was told I had to choose between you and being Alpha. I had a panic attack. Mum made warm milk. It was a whole thing."
Okay, we're getting somewhere. "Do you get panic attacks a lot?" I whisper tentatively.
He shrugs again, looks away, closes down a little.
"It may surprise you to know that I have a fair amount of experience in that area."
He takes a deep breath. "Not often."
"But you did at the thought of not being Alpha?" ...because that's what he bases his self-worth on. I try not to sound too...sad? Sad is such a basic word. Childish in it's simplicity. But I am; just really sad.
"It seems ridiculous in hindsight, but yeah. I had made the decision to give us a chance. Then the attack complicated things and the council made it clear that if I bonded fully with you, I would no longer be Heir Alpha. I was...terrified, because I didn't know who I was. It felt like I floated right out of my body. And I was suffocating because I didn't have lungs anymore. I started to think that I couldn't be with you now anyway, because I'm not even a real person anymore. How can I be with you, be enough for you, if I'm not even a whole person?" He looks me right in the eye as he asks.
Does he expect me to answer? Because I don't even know where to begin unpacking that.
"It wasn't until Reece started calming me down that I realized I was having a panic attack." He rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. "What about you? I'm aware I should have asked you this before, but what do you really want? You seem to have your whole life planned. Is there a project somewhere that you're aiming to join? Do you hope to have your own lab one day?"
My own lab? Like I'll ever have the money for that. We can't all just leech off of our pack's taxes. My best bet is to get hired by a company and work my way up to leading a project. Hopefully before they realise I suck at leadership positions.
"You'll laugh," I say.
He won't. He never does. Not even when he's supposed to.
"I want to find a cure for cancer. Or, at least, a better way to fight it. I know, it sounds kind of cliché and a lot of people think it's impossible, but I know it can be done."
Milton nods. "Cancer is one of the leading causes of death in humans." He narrows his eyes pointedly at me. "Lung cancer is particularly common. I researched human fatality almost obsessively when I found out I had a human mate. Did you know that wolf-shifters rarely get cancer?"
"What?"
"We don't have many recorded incidents of cancer in the wider wolf-shifter population, aside from those in runts, part shifters and human mates. Wolves do and humans do, but something about a full shifter's enhanced genetic makeup prevents or fights it off."
I gape, completely stunned. I want to jump for joy and take blood samples and splice some cells and dissect something. I don't even know, I just can't sit here knowing the answer could be right in front of my nose.
"Where are you going?" Milton frowns. It's only then I realize I'm up and ready to run out the door.
"Um..."
Where am I going? It's not like I actually have a lab or anything, let alone, materials, samples, or real experience. I can't discuss this outside the pack, and the only person I know who might be able to help is the crabby biology teacher who I'm still wary of. I sit back down and bury my head in my knees. Why did I think I can do this? I can't even talk to a teacher.
"There will be time to figure it out later. First you need to finish your studies. Then we likely need to get permission from the shifter community to research and store the information. They may even help, lend some experts from around the world to build a team."
"Tell that to Ethan. You think he or anyone else have time to spare? The sooner this gets researched— wait, why hasn't it been researched?"
"Maybe it has, maybe it's a dead end. I don't know. Just give me a couple of days, I'll make enquiries."
I nod and sit back down. Is it their immune response? Could it be the way their genes handle mutations? Is it transferrable to someone like me when he altered my DNA?
Milton's voice breaks through my thoughts. "I admire the way you've set out to be someone, to be a hero. You don't want money or recognition, you just want to help people."
Does he know me at all? Of course I want recognition!
"Dr Will thinks I'm...broken, or something. That I want to lead for the wrong reasons, not to help others but to help myself. But I do want to help people. I can't make a difference in the world in the way you will one day, but I can make a difference in my own way. Rule over our little section of the planet how I think is best. It's the thing that got me through the darkest time in my life. Gave me a purpose. Knowing I have the power to make decisions that will save lives, improve lives." His voice raises in pitch. Excited, slightly forceful. He's trying to make his case. It's the same way I speak about the possibilities of curing diseases, or my longing for a soap opera based in an extra-terrestrial medical facility, called Space Anatomy.
"I once saw an apartment building collapse. There were families in there. Nearly a whole pack." Milton says it with such emotion, trying to convey his horror. I can only imagine how devastating witnessing something like that would be. "Not here. You remember I told you I ran away? I couldn't save my sister, then I found out that my mother had killed herself. My whole life I'd thought the sad bug had taken her the way other illness do, but it turned out that it was a choice. I thought it was because I couldn't make her happy. Wasn't worth enough for her to stick around. I had no idea who I was or why I existed if I was so damn useless. I just needed some distance, so I hopped on the train, and then a boat. I ended up in Norway and Cousin Torsten took me travelling around Europe with him."
He watches me intently as the words rush out of him, a flood of memory and emotion and passion.
"Not all packs have a council. This one particular pack had a traditional Alpha dictator and although he had been warned that the residential building wasn't stable, he prioritised defence. The plot of land intended for the new residence was instead used for a new garrison. In the end the biggest danger wasn't attacks from neighbouring packs, but a small earthquake. The apartment building, this whole massive structure, just gave up and fell over."
He stands suddenly, to pace and worry at his beard.
"I was eleven years old and there was nothing I could do. I could have been twenty, thirty, and there would be nothing I could have done. The only one who could have saved those people was the Alpha. It's horrible that all that pointless death was what saved me, gave me purpose. I decided I would be the type of Alpha that would have saved those people. That Lochden would never suffer such a fate." He smiles wryly. "And in case you didn't realise I have trust issues. I've never trusted Reece or anyone else to do it."
He shakes his head, still sweeping back and forth in front of me like a giant anxious pendulum ticking down the seconds to his own personal apocalypse.
"Turns out it's a heck of a lot more complicated than that. I think I've been so focused on making people like me, want me to lead, I've forgotten that Reece is actually the smartest person in the entire family— don't tell him I said that —and I should have called for a Summit like he wanted. I should have done a lot of things different. We're a small pack. Things are quiet here and we never expected to have enemies. I've been focusing on bringing more money into the pack, so we can improve peoples quality of life, support the growing number of elderly and update medical facilities. But what good is any of that if we're invaded, and have a leaky bunker and no security at the hospital? But then if we never get invaded I've wasted time and funding that could have made a real difference." He stops abruptly and takes a deep, deliberate breath.
Now probably isn't the time to suggest they budget for a proper prison to hold murderers in.
He turns to me. "What if I've already failed and I'm not even Alpha yet?"
"Um, okay, first of all; I'm hearing a lot of 'I's. You do realise you're not even Alpha yet? Your Dad is the one in charge. The decisions are his responsibility. Secondly, even if you were Alpha, the whole purpose of the council is to give a balanced view and decide the best course of action so that their leader doesn't fuck shit up like the Alphas of the past."
Milton relaxes a bit. "I know. But Dad respects my opinions, and the council all have their own agendas. If I calculate a decision to be best, I do everything in my power to push for it. And I can be very persuasive. If I want something, I find a way to get it."
That's actually kind of hot. But also concerning...
"Thirdly, you're freaking me out. You're talking as if you've doomed us all. Do you really think we'll be invaded? You think they'll come here? More like him." It's bad enough that I keep picturing him escaping his cell. Now a whole army of Asa Greens haunt my imagination, slipping undetected through the trees to my house. Ghosting through the inky water in the dead of night and rising like pirate zombies from the water to climb the rocks around the Macs' house and slit all of their throats in their sleep...
"I don't know," Milton says, "But if the Skollsons join forces with the Ghostpines, we won't be able to hold them back."
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Thank you for reading <3
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