Eloise rolled her eyes. “No, Flint, there’s no time machine, and you would know that if you came to class.”
“I’m not coming to class. I’m not joining a coven. I’m a wolf and I have a pack.”
“You’re infuriating. You need to control your powers. True, you have a pack. A pack that loves you very much. Vivianne, Reagan, and I love you over the moon. And Tad does too, in his own cerebral way that we can’t talk about. But you’re more than a wolf, and you’re going to have to accept it sooner rather than later. It’s been almost three years.”
Two and a half, but what did it matter? “Why?” He didn’t want to do anything about it. Shouldn’t have to. He drained his power when it started to overflow. As long as the pressure was off, he wouldn’t have to worry about hurting anyone. Tad had taught him how to fill an energy orb on his first trip back to Hundsburg from the cruise ship he now called home.
“Listen, I know about the energy orbs. And it’s a good temporary fix, Flint. It’s duct tape on a car fender. It’s going to work for a hot minute. But that’s it, and when that sucker lets loose, you are going to sink deep into a vat of magical shit, brother.” She lifted her hand under her nose.
He frowned at her. Because she was right, and he didn’t want to deal with it.
The crunch of the driveway gravel made him want to lose the excellent dinner his brother-in-law had prepared. His eyes flashed out the front window. “Shit.”
His nephew crawled over to him and put his hands in the air. Flint picked him up.
“Shh-it,” the little baby said with his red pudgy cheeks.
“Milo. That’s a no-no word.” Eloise reached for Milo, but Milo shifted to a wolf pup in Flint’s arms, and with his sharp back claws, crawled his way up his uncle’s stomach and chest and over his shoulder.
Flint laughed, ignoring the slices through his shirt and the scratches up his torso.
His sister growled at the cub scurrying through the living room, and the little thing sat and whined.
“You better shift back, Milo.” Flint laughed again.
The cub stared at his uncle, his large brown eyes and long eyelashes batting.
“Save it for your mom, you little troublemaker.”
The toddler shifted as his mother reached him. “It’s bedtime for you. And a new diaper.” She held her naked little boy out in front of her, letting his feet dangle. “I’ll be right back.”
The screen door screeched open. Pike arrived with a bag. “Where’d Eloise go?”
“She’s changing the baby.”
His brother-in-law eyed the shredded diaper on the floor. Flint picked it up and tossed it in the trash under the sink.
“You want some ice cream?”
“I’m laying off the carbs.” Flint sat at the kitchen island.
Pike put the dessert away and rolled his eyes the same way Flint’s sister did. “Sure. You okay?”
“I’m good.”
“Good.”
Eloise returned from tucking the baby into his secure crib. “You guys having a good talk?”
“We were about to put rollers in each other’s hair. I don’t know what you mean that Flint can’t open up.” Pike tossed a dish towel onto the counter.
“I never said that.”
Flint shrugged. His head snapped to the side driveway. Another car had pulled in. “You expecting someone else?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Eloise bit her lip.
“You didn’t.” Flint went to the front window and pulled back the sheer curtains.
“Flint. I . . . You need to talk to Mom. She’s beside herself. Sit down and talk like adults.”
“I can’t believe you called me out for dinner to throw Mom at me.”
“I swear I didn’t call you out here and tell her about it before. She called while I was putting Milo down. And she guessed.”
“Guessed?” His intestines twisted, and it wasn’t the guacamole with pineapple Pike had made. No, his mother didn’t guess. “Bullshit. Does she have a magical doohickey on your place?”
“A doohickey? No, Flint. Mom wouldn’t do that, you know it.”
“Do I? Do I? I don’t know anything about her.”
The door to her car slammed and Flint had his shirt off. He threw it to the ground and pushed off his sweatpants. He marched down the bedroom hall to the laundry room and out the backdoor. The shift took him hard. Bones cracked, and his beast took hold—dark fur bursting through his skin.
Being on pack ground, every inch of soil lived in his memory. The smells, the trails, layers of scents of cousins and pack mates. He galloped into the woods away from his mother.
Eloise had a point. He was an adult, and as an adult, he didn’t have to talk to anyone he didn’t want to. And he sure as hell didn’t want to talk to their mother.
Up the trail, he passed the alpha’s farmhouse and went down the other side. On the road, he neared his mother’s house. His wolf picked up speed until he stopped in her yard.
