Taken In by the Pack: Second Chances by Alana Hart, Jazzmyn Wolfe Page B

unsuccessfully to hide it. I decided I kinda liked her, and I suspected that she was having similar thoughts about me.
     
    I glared up at Bryson now that I was facing him, trying to simply ignore his nakedness as everyone else seemed to be doing; no easy feat when the only person you’ve ever really dated is buck-naked in front of you. His pale brown eyes were so full of hurt — not physical pain, I wasn’t that strong, but rather from emotional sting — that I almost softened. I even had the random impulse to apologize, which was ridiculous. I wasn’t even sure what I would apologize for , aside from simply trying to make that hurt leave his eyes. Luckily for us both, however, he didn’t try to come closer to me again. I was genuinely unsure how I would have reacted, and I really didn’t want to find out.
     
     
    ❖ ❖ ❖

 
     
    The tense tableau held for several long moments, everyone just staring at everyone else in uncertainty. Finally, Bryson sighed, his head hanging slightly, shoulders slumping. He looked so defeated, or maybe dejected.
     
    “Ada, I— I’m sorry. Truly. I’m sorry that I hurt you, sorry that what we are has caused you so much heartache in your life without you even knowing it. And while I’m sure it doesn’t sound the least bit appealing right now, you need to know, to understand — you are half wolf. To us, that means, basically, you’re family.”
     
    No few of those gathered around us nodded their agreement, or murmured assent, though I couldn’t make out any words, just generally affirmative sounds.
     
    “It also means that, if you want, you have the right to join the pack.” He motioned around us somewhat vaguely, indicating the ring of spectators.
     
    “If I want? It doesn’t sound like what my father wanted mattered.” My words were venomous, but the bile wasn’t really directed at him, just a sort of general anger at the situation, at the world in general and its unfairness.
     
    “Yes, if you want,” he affirmed. “Your father was different; he was a full-blooded wolf, he posed a potential danger to us on his own. You are only half-blooded, and if you choose to remain apart from other wolves, you pose us little to no threat, so long as you swear to uphold our secrecy, and abide by your word.”
     
    I watched his face without speaking for some time, mulling over his words, trying to tease meanings and implications out of them.
     
    “And if I didn’t ‘abide by my word’?” I asked, rather petulantly rather than an actual challenge. He frowned, shoulders hunching a bit, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
     
    “We would-” he paused again, as if seeking the right phrasing, “-have to discuss it, as a pack, and decide how to proceed. If anyone actually took you seriously, though, it would probably not end pleasantly for you.” His tone was more apologetic than threatening.
     
    “Yeah, ‘bout what I figured.” I sighed, pouting a little, and started to hang my own head, but remembered what that would put prominently in my gaze again and kept it steadfastly upright.
     
    We were quiet again for several long moments, before I spoke back up. “What does it mean, that I’m “half wolf”, anyway? Am I likely to randomly turn into a dog at some point? Or,” I drew in a breath, cringing, as an awful thought occurred to me, “am I going to turn into some awful Hollywood-style half-beast werewolf thing?” My eyes were so wide with horror at that thought it almost hurt.
     
    He chuckled softly, his arm twitching as if he had started to reach for me again and thought better of it. “No, nothing like that. What it means, is that unlike us, you can choose.”
     
    “Choose? Choose what?” I asked, not wanting to make incorrect assumptions on what was probably a very important point to my health and safety right now.
     
    “You can choose which world you want to live in.”
     
    I arched a brow. “Well aren’t we in a melodramatic mood,” I muttered