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THREE
Everyonein the pack used the same code for their garages, phones, etc, to make things easier for everyone, so I typed it in without pause:
Twelve-twelve.
Dax’s phone had one of the generic screensavers the company installed when they made it, and even the way his apps were set up in specific groups based on their purpose was pretty boring.
I hit the button to look at his pictures, and scrolled through. There weren’t many; seemed like he only had a handful of pictures for the last six years of his life, and they were all of him and various members of his pack. It looked like they’d been hiking, or out doing something else during each of the pictures. I saw them outside an escape room, a haunted house, at a lake, on a beach, at an ice-skating rink…
Damn, the pack did a lot of stuff together.
I wanted that—I wanted to be a part of it.
But… Dax didn’t want me before he knew we were mates.
So did I really want him?
A heavy sigh had me leaning back against the cold wall of the holding cell. Dax’s wolf licked my arm a couple of times, and I stared at him. He still had dried blood around his muzzle, which was gross. But his head was resting on my thigh again, and he was staring at me with those big, red eyes.
Okay… maybe Dax’s wolf was kind of cute.
“I can’t call you Dax,” I told the wolf, leaving out the part about my assload of uncertainty. “How about…” I trailed off, trying to come up with a good werewolf name from a book I’d liked.
My number one werewolf book boyfriend? Roman, from Running from the Wolves.
“How about Roman?”
His face wrinkled up, and I bit back a grin.
Maybe he was really cute.
Dax didn’t like me, but it seemed like his wolf did.
“Not Roman, then. How about Knox?” I loved the main man from Wolf Tamer, too.
He wrinkled his face at that too, and I bit back a snort.
“Tuslan?” I checked.
More wrinkles.
“Serberus?”
Yet another round of face wrinkles.
“Keaton?”
He gave an annoyed grumble.
“You don’t want to be named after some werewolf hottie I’ve read about, then,” I said, with a sigh. “Alright, well your last name is Gordon. How about Gord?”
He snorted, and my lips stretched in a grin.
“Gordy?”
Another snort, and my grin widened.
“Alright, maybe I just need to start throwing out generic human names. Jake? Josh? Jared? Why am I only coming up with J names? Good question.” I lifted my hand to rest on his head, and he wiggled up closer, running my fingers through his fur in the process. His fur was soft, like human hair, and clean too other than the blood.
