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"What is it you think you know?” Maddox prompted him to speak.
“Henry and Lorien.”
“Henry and Lorien what?”
“Henry,” Will waggled his brows, “and Lorien.”
Maddox let out a laugh. “I don’t think so, boy.”
“You want to bet?”
Maddox raised a brow. “What do you have to wager with?”
“I don’t know,” Will said. “Guess I don’t really have anything, do I. Nothing to gain. Nothing to lose.”
Maddox’s lips spread in a smile. “I think we can find something for you to lose, boy.”
“You’ve already taken my dignity.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you. It could be worse, boy.” Maddox smiled in that dark, warm way he did when he was enjoying their interactions in his dark and twisted perception. There was nothing wholesome about Maddox, but at times like this it almost seemed like there was.
“Everything can always be worse. I bet they bone down.”
“Again you invite me to bet without making a wager.”
“I don’t know,” Will snorted. “What do you want? That you don’t already take?”
“A fine question. Let me think about it.”
Chapter Eight
A week or so went by and it became very clear that Henry was taking a cautious approach with Will, attempting to befriend him rather than performing much in the way of real domination. Maddox could have told him it would not work, but Henry was clearly the sort of beast who had to learn by experience. The phrase familiarity breeds contempt was very true for Will. One either took control of him, or he took the piss, as the British said.
But Maddox could be patient largely because it was obvious that the simple presence of wolves in the house was having a positive effect on Will. He was much less a fish out of water, and he was much less generally feral. Maddox was not having to lock him away out of fear he would go on a flesh-consuming rampage. The wolves consumed flesh in much smaller amounts and they worked out their exuberance on each other following their meals.
Dante, the quiet but always impeccably present second to Henry’s first, always divided the meal up among the wolves. There was a strict order to things. Henry, Dante, Jake, Norris, Will. Will always ate last, which was fine by Will because he still barely wanted to eat at all when human was on the menu.
Maddox watched with interest. The meal had been made more palatable and civilized by cutting the meat into thin slivers, searing it, and using it as a pizza topping. However, there was no real evading the fact that his dining room was full of fine young cannibals consuming the flesh of an unfortunate human.
“Who are we having this evening, gentlemen?”
Will grinned. Henry shot him something very close to a glower. These wolves really preferred not to confront the cold hard realities of their situation.
“A donation from someone forced through injury to lose a part of their person. Cruelty free.”
“Doesn’t taste as good as full cruelty,” Will smirked. He was taunting Henry, of course, having found a weak spot. He couldn’t help himself.
Maddox had no attraction to human food anymore, but the pizza did have a certain aesthetic appeal. Henry was certainly trying his best to keep his pack as human as possible. It was obviously a temptation for any wolf to become feral, just as fledglings without guidance from makers would turn wild.
Henry gave Will a sidelong glance and decided to ignore the comment. It was not a good idea.
“I think I feel like something fresher,” Will said. “What if I killed someone who really deserved it? Like a parking meter guy?”
Again the wolves ignored his comments. They were trying to watch a game of sports. Maddox loathed sports. It was perhaps the most pointless waste of potent human energy he had ever encountered in all his years, but the wolves seemed very invested in the outcome of this particular altercation.
Will did not like being ignored. He did not like being at the bottom of the pecking order. He was an arrogant little budding alpha in his own right and Maddox could see his temper starting to rise.
Will picked up a piece of pizza and frisbeed it at the side of Henry’s head. It smacked against the side of Henry’s face, squidgy sauce side toward him. Will covered his mouth with his hand and snorted with mischievous laughter as the pizza slowly detached from the side of the pack master’s skull and slodged down to the floor.
“Deal with him,” Henry said, not pulling his eyes from the television screen. He made a vague gesture with his hand for a napkin to get the sauce and person off his face. Very casual. Very unbothered. Very naturally dominant. Will was trying to create a chink in that armor, and Henry was not having it.
It was not going to be the pack master who acted. It was Dante. Dante was fucking huge, as Will would describe him. He towered well over six feet and probably weighed close to three hundred pounds, almost all of which was pure muscle.
