Free Weremones by Buffi BeCraft-Woodall Page A

and sit down.”
    He leaned back, trying for casual. He hoped that his actions and mood would transmit to the boy and put him at ease.
    It didn’t.
    Brandon sat, a silent ghost in the room. If the boy could control his fear scent, he’d be nearly invisible.
    “Look at me, son.”
    In two jerky motions, the boy brought his eyes to Adam’s chest.
    “Good enough.” He grunted. Better than the floor.
    Adam leaned forward to put his arms on the desk. He hated the way the kid tensed. Adam sighed and ran a hand through his hair instead.
    “Look kid, we can’t keep going on this way. One of us is going to get an ulcer.”
    With no response forthcoming, Adam leaned forward. He didn’t know how to get through.
    “Dammit! Look at me. I’m not Garrick!”
    Brandon paled. He looked as though he might be sick. He stared at Adam with wide eyes.
    Not wolf eyes. No, the sick bastard had given the boy goddamn Bambi eyes.
    That infuriated Adam.
    He stalked around the desk, a red haze forming as the boy shrank away. Adam leaned over the chair, the sick scent of fear egging him on. The wolf wanted blood and pain for penance. Not this blood, though. This one was innocent.
    The beast slipped under his skin. Sharp canines, upper and lower filled Adam’s mouth. He gripped the armrests tight with hands that were more claw than human, caging the boy. He pressed his face close, his nose inches from Brandon’s, so that all the boy would see, smell, and hear, was him, Adam Weis, no matter how he cringed or hid with his eyes shut.
    “Who am I, Brandon?” He demanded. “Tell me.”
    “Alpha.” The boy answered in a strangled whisper.
    “Tell me.”
    Brandon whimpered. A knock on the door jerked Adam’s attention from his prey.
    He snarled. A wise wolf would leave the door shut.
    The door opened and Bradley slipped inside. He shut the door behind him and stood there.
    Adam growled at the intrusion. Moving with preternatural speed, he pinned Bradley against the door. If they wouldn’t see, he’d make them see. The boy’s bared neck, barely mollified the wolf. Adam waited a second before accepting the offering, then dragged his tongue slowly over the heavy vein in Bradley’s neck.
    Adam released him and stepped back. He pointed at the door with one claw. His voice was harsher than he intended with the partial Change.
    “You want to talk. We’ll do it later.”
    He watched Bradley struggle inside himself, the need to protect his brother at odds with the desire to obey his alpha. Adam made the choice for him. He grabbed the pup by the scruff of the neck with one hand, careful of the sharp digits so close to tender skin. Pushing Bradley outside, he shut the door, locking it against another intrusion.
    Adam turned around to size up his prey. Brandon sat huddled in the chair, literally quivering in fear of his leader. The only pack member the boy trusted was his blood brother. The wolf understood and reminded him. The pack was brotherhood. Blood bound them all. The blood of birth, blood shed in a hunt, it was all the same, shared blood between them.
    “C’mere.”
    Adam watched Brandon slide out of the chair and begin to crawl toward him. He closed the distance and reached down, pulling the boy up against him.
    “You’re not a dog, son. Stand.”
    Adam cupped the boy’s chin carefully between his clawed fingers and tilted his head up to meet his eyes.
    “Look at me.” He nodded when the boy finally complied.
    “What do you see, boy?”
    “I see you.”
    “Do you?” Adam stared deep, trying to find the psychic connection he had with his pack. “No. You don’t. You see a monster.”
    Brandon closed his eyes tight. His breath came in short gasps.
    “Look at me.”
    Adam gently feathered a deadly digit over the boy’s cheek. The kid had amazing mental defenses. He pressed his mind closer, using Brandon’s eyes as the window. Adam lowered his gravelly half-changed voice to lull the boy’s defenses.
    “Shhh. Look. At.