Wolf 192

Posted by admin, ? Views, Released on October 4, 2025

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Chapter 192

Macey

(74)

The engine screamed beneath me, and for once, I didn’t care if anyone heard it for miles. Let them. Let the whole damn world listen to me run. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, though whether it was from the wind or from Elliot, I didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. Who did he think he was? Storming in like some avenging angel, ready to tear apart anyone who so much as looked at me sideways. Did he really think I couldn’t handle myself? Did he really think I was still that little girl sneaking into his bed when the thunder got too loud? I gritted my teeth, twisting the throttle harder, leaning low over the tank as the world blurred. No. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I was nearly eighteen. In three months, I’d have my wolf, and then no one would be able to tell me what I could or couldn’t do, not even him. But the worst part? The part I couldn’t shake? When he’d looked at me, shadows crawling under his skin, voice rough with anger… part of me hadn’t been scared. Part of me had burned. And when I’d thrown it in his face–maybe I want that, maybe I want someone to like me–I hadn’t wanted to hurt him. It made me sick to my stomach. I’d always loved Elliot in a way, but we were family; there were boundaries, lines that shouldn’t be crossed. So I’d left. Because if I’d stayed one more second, I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done. The road stretched out before me, empty and endless. My chest ached with every breath, my thoughts a mess of anger, longing, and something sharper I didn’t dare name. I tightened my grip on the handlebars, swallowing hard. Three months. Just three more months, and my wolf would come, and then I could find my mate and be done with all of these chaotic feelings. I would have my mate and things would be okay.

By the time I rolled into the packhouse garage, my arms ached from holding the throttle wide open, my head pounding with too many thoughts all clawing at each other. I killed the engine and yanked off my helmet, already bracing myself, and there she was. Mum. Standing against the far wall, arms crossed, eyebrow arched like she’d been waiting the whole damn time.

“Don’t start,” I said quickly, shaking my hair out of my face. My voice came out sharper than I meant, but I was still too keyed up to care.

She sighed, slow and steady. “Where are Elliot and Elias?”

I shrugged, tossing the helmet onto the nearest bench. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

I tried to slip past her, make it to the stairs before the interrogation started, but she shifted easily, blocking the doorway like she’d been born for it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked gently.

“Not really,” I clipped back, hugging my arms tight around myself.

“Mace…” she started, soft and steady in that way that always managed to scrape at my defences.

“Ugh!” I threw my hands up, pacing a sharp circle. “He’s just so… so… so-” Words failed me, frustration boiling up until it choked me.

“Protective?” Mum supplied, calm as ever.

I froze, glaring at her even though she wasn’t wrong. “Yes! Over–the–top, insane, shadow–slinging protective. Like I can’t walk two steps without him glaring daggers at anyone who breathes near me.” My chest heaved, my voice climbing higher. “It’s suffocating!”

Her eyebrow lowered, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Or maybe,” she said carefully, “He just cares for you a lot.”

Heat crawled up my neck, and I spun away, pretending to busy myself with peeling off my gloves. “Yeah, well, it’s suffocating.”

Mum’s sigh drifted across the garage, soft but heavy enough to make me freeze. She came closer, not crowding, but close enough that I could feel her presence settle against me like a warm blanket.

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13:53 Sat, Oct 4

Chapter 192

“You know,” she said gently, “sometimes boys just… don’t know how to show what they’re feeling.”

I scoffed, shoving the gloves into my helmet. “That’s an understatement.”

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Her hand brushed against my arm, steadying me when I tried to storm past. “Listen to me, Mace. They lead with their fists, their tempers, their instincts. It’s what makes them strong, but it’s also what makes them clumsy when it comes to the things that matter most. Their hearts are screaming, but their words,” she shook her head, smiling sadly, “their words don’t always catch up.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to look at her. Because if I did, she’d see too much.

“So what, I’m supposed to just… excuse it?” My voice cracked sharper than I wanted. “Every time he blows up, every time he scares the hell out of me or anyone else? I’m supposed to chalk it up to him not knowing how to talk?”

“No.” Her voice sharpened just enough to make me listen. “You’re supposed to understand where it’s coming from. That doesn’t mean you let him walk all over you. It means you stand your ground, like you’re doing now. But don’t mistake his protectiveness for chains, Mace. Sometimes… It’s his way of saying he doesn’t know how to live without you.”

Something in my chest twisted hard, sharp enough that I had to glance away. “He has a funny way of saying it.”

Mum’s smile softened as she reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “Yeah. They usually do.”

I swallowed, my throat tight, the fight draining out of me even though I hated that she’d managed it. My voice dropped to a whisper before I could stop it. “What if it’s not enough? What if… what if I need more than fists and fury? What if I want a bit of normality where I get to go out and party with my friends or…flirt with a few guys?”

She laughed, putting her arm around me as she led me into the house, “Sweetheart, we’re anything but normal.”

We weren’t normal. We were children born of gods and wolves, raised in a pack that spanned realms. I’d grown up knowing I wasn’t like everyone else at school, no matter how hard I tried to pretend. Yet that wasn’t what was bothering me. It wasn’t the idea of not being normal. It was Elliot. Elliot, who had always been there, my shadow, my protector, my tether. Elliot, who growled at every boy who so much as looked at me, who scowled when I talked about dances or parties, who made me feel like I was on a leash even when he wasn’t around. I used to tell myself it was because we were family. Because that’s what brothers did. But lately… I wasn’t so sure. The way he looked at me sometimes… The way his protectiveness went past standard sibling stuff, deeper, sharper, hungrier. I didn’t know what to call it, but it didn’t feel like “just family.” And the worst part? Some quiet, secret piece of me didn’t hate it.