Page 28

The only thing I have to lick is a pillow.

Fair. I suppose we could even things up.

Wiggling backwards, Rusty freed Logan’s tail and gave him the room to turn around and rub noses with him.

Much better. Logan conveyed.

Nosing at one another, licking ears, rubbing cheeks, it was all part of the bonding process, not just between mates, but within a pack. Nosing closer, they lost themselves in the simple act, not because either of them needed their fur cleaned, but because they were enjoying themselves until they heard a sharp bark, and they broke apart. Logan rolled while Rusty’s head jerked up, a second bark prompting him to leap over Logan, shift, and immediately snatch his sleep pants off the top of the dresser where he’d left them. He tugged them on as he left the bedroom, aware that Logan was following as he hurried to the pups’ room.

And immediately spotted the problem as soon as he stepped foot inside.

Wren stood in front of the crib, fur on their back standing on end as they barked again, then snarled at the window as something scraped against it.

“What the…,” Rusty asked as he hurried to the window and peered out just in time to see a mass of snowy brown feathers and a talon pressed against the glass, sharp points raking against the window a second time.

“Fudge, I think I know that owl,” Rusty said, as he whirled around to see Logan poised with the pups in his arms and Wren, still in fur, pressed against their father’s leg. “He’s not a threat, he’s a friend, but he might be in trouble. Could you…”

“Already on it,” Logan said, inclining his head towards the door.

Rusty took off through it, barely pausing to pull on boots he was certain weren’t his and a coat he knew wasn’t.

An icy blast of frigid air smacked him in the face when he opened the door, the strength of it forcing him to slam it just to make sure it closed all the way. The snow was knee high as he forced his way through, the sharp, icy talons of the wind slashing across his face until he turned along the side of the house and trudged as rapidly as he could towards the downed pile of feathers, just as the owl let out a weak screech.

“Working on it, buddy,” Rusty hollered as he slid and landed on his ass in a snow drift.

That seemed to be good enough for the owl, who quieted down and quit raking talons against the glass, now that help was on the way. As soon as he was close enough to bend and lift the owl out of the snow, he caught the scent of the owl and knew that it was Wilder.

“Dude, you’d better have a damn good reason for breaking the shelter-in-place ordinance, or there is going to be a line of people on my doorstep looking to beat your ass once they learn you’re here.”

Too important to wait. Needed to check something before it was too late.

“I hope you can do it somewhere warm, because neither of us is staying out here,” Rusty declared as he began fighting the wind with the added burden clutched in his arms.

Was what I was hoping for when a gust of wind slammed me against the side of your house. Sorry about waking the pups. I couldn’t right myself.

“All good, Brutha, but it’s a bitch out here.”

You’re telling me. Fuck, that wind was brutal.

With the wind catching him square in the face again, Rusty bit back a string of curses until he was finally able to reach the door. At least it opened far easier than it closed.

“Rusty…what, is that Wild?” Roark said, reversing directions as soon as he’d spotted them, boots clomping against the floor in a way that left Rusty certain that Roark was wearing his, while the pinched feeling around his sockless toes told him he was definitely wearing Roark’s.

“Yeah. It is,” Rusty called back as he struggled to get the wet boots off while holding the owl, until Roark returned with a blanket, wrapping Wild and taking the owl from him so Rusty could get his wet things off. “He said it was too important to wait. I’m going to put the kettle on. Just the short time I was out there was enough to make my bones hurt. I can’t imagine how he’s feeling right now.”

Fucking cold! Whatever you make, spike it, please.

You best believe I was planning on it.

Your mate. I need to talk to him.

Give yourself a moment for fuck’s sake.

If I had time for a moment, I wouldn’t have flown out here.

I hope you don’t have any plans to fly back.

Not a chance.