Feral Northern Shifters 2

as hell powerful.
Bram turned to face Ethan, his gaze narrowing, brow furrowing. No doubt because Ethan looked ill. He shut his eyes, rolled onto his side and curled up, putting his back to Bram. A sick feeling of despair enveloped him. He’d been better off with hatching an escape strategy, even if its chances of success had been small. He hated this feeling of wishing he were dead, and he wanted to shake it off, but living in a one-room prison was painful.
After a few minutes he heard movement and sensed Bram rise and walk around the bed to the side Ethan faced. There was the soft creak of knees as the wolf crouched down to eye level.
“Ethan?” Bram said softly, worry in his voice.
Ethan raised his eyelids and stared without answering. Bram’s dark hair was usually mussed, but Ethan imagined it was more mussed than usual. Lips weren’t too obviously kissed though. Probably it had been a quickie. There was a kind of heat on Bram’s face, what Ethan had thought of—many long years ago—as an afterglow. However, on close inspection, the expression in Bram’s eyes seemed a little bruised, out of sync with the rest of Ethan’s observations. He feared he was imagining that expression, looking for ways out that weren’t there. Looking for Bram to be a weak link.
“Are you all right?” Bram asked.
“No.” Ethan gave a humorless laugh and propped his head on one hand to observe the wolf more carefully. “Are you ?”
Bram’s eyes widened. “Sure.”
“Sex good?”
The wolf went very still, face heating more, but that was no afterglow, that was embarrassment. Even shame.
Ethan found himself frowning, and hope rising. Something was out of whack. It was up to him to discover what exactly.
He pitched his voice to sound wry, sympathetic. “Or not so good?”
Bram stayed still except for the slight flaring of his nostrils, yet the wolf’s unhappiness affected Ethan and he offered a half smile to ease Bram’s discomfort. “Which happens to the best of us.”
Bram’s eyes swerved to the right and he cleared his throat. “Are you thirsty?”
Ethan sat up and crossed his legs. “Bram,” he coaxed, trying to get the wolf to focus on him. It felt cozy in this room when it was only him and Bram, and it was time for Ethan to take advantage of the weird atmosphere. God knows it had been used against him these past few days.
But Bram shook his head, once, definite, then rose and retrieved a bottle.
“Okay, I’d like a drink.” Ethan held out his hand and made sure his fingers brushed Bram’s. The wolf’s arm jerked slightly and Ethan looked at Bram, whose gaze had jerked too.
Shit . This wasn’t exactly fun. Unless he was a very good actor, Bram was a bit of a mess. Someone Ethan would have avoided in another life when he liked things light and easy. He swallowed a good twothirds of the bottle of water, then wiped his mouth while trying to figure out what to do with this sadlooking wolf. Sympathy was fine, sympathy was good, but Ethan still had to be smart about it.
He eyed Bram and spoke neutrally. “No wonder you didn’t want to kiss me. Not when your alpha is your mate.”
Bram gave himself a whole-body shake, reminiscent of a real wolf’s movement of shaking off water. He gritted his teeth. “I’m an omega.”
“So what, omegas and alphas don’t mate? Sorry, I don’t understand pack dynamics all that much.”
“Would you like something to eat?”
“Not mates, then.”
Bram gazed at him, long and hard, not answering. But there was fire in that gaze, which told Ethan two things. Bram and Doug weren’t mates—a mated wolf would never deny the bond—and Bram was an angry omega, sometimes beaten but not completely down. Ethan had to find a way to use that anger to help him.
An angry omega had issues with his alpha, whether or not they were fucking.
Maybe Ethan stood a chance after all.

Chapter Six
    The next day Bram appeared on cue as Ethan was waking. Not from a particularly restful sleep, but there’d been no nightmares either. Small mercies and all that.
Bram looked weary, like all the enthusiasm for Project Ethan had been sucked out of him. Maybe good, maybe not.
“Good morning.” Ethan rubbed his eyes. “It is morning, right?”
“Sure.”
“Sure, it’s morning? Or sure, Ethan, it doesn’t matter since you live in a windowless room?”
Bram studied the table upon which he’d laid breakfast. “It’s morning. Late morning. Did you have a good sleep?”
Bram’s diffidence was