Shift of Morals – Kingdom of Wolves Read Online K. Webster

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
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“You’re not his dad,” Rey murmurs, her brown eyes shining with unshed tears.

“And you’re not his mom,” I growl back.

She flinches but doesn’t lower her head. It isn’t until Ewan says her name that she finally does. What the hell is wrong with these people? They’re all losing their minds.

“He’s not going to school,” I finally grit out. “That’s the end of that discussion. Now, let’s talk about how we’re going to find this motherfucker. Sheriff Bell is on it, but he needs us to keep an eye out. Starting tonight, I want everyone taking shifts.”

“As in…” Finnick trails off, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

“I need your wolves for this. You can move faster, and your senses will be better. If you see anything, don’t act alone. We’ll come to you.”

“You’ll shift too?” Judd asks in astonishment. “Before the full moon?”

I shrug him off. “If it’s necessary.” Lies. I’ll do everything in my power to keep from doing just that.

Before they can drill me anymore or see through my lies, I point at Ewan, signaling for him to go tonight, before leaving the table to find Remy. Confusion and amusement and concern are a nauseating swirl within the bond.

I stalk away from them and through the A-frame cabin where we all live together as a pack. Rey, Remy, and I all have rooms downstairs whereas the others have rooms upstairs. Finnick and Ewan were forced to room together when we brought Remy in to live with us so the boy could have his own space.

Remy’s door is closed, but it won’t be locked. Once, when he was twelve, he tried to keep five wolf shifters out during a tantrum. He learned that we’d come right through it anyway. Finnick got the joyless task of replacing the door later, the new one with a lock, but one that’s never been used since. I rap on the wood, giving him a second of warning before I push through.

I expect him to be pacing like he often does—back and forth wearing holes in the flooring in front of the window. Instead, he’s curled up on the bed, his back to me.

Too weak. Too small. Too broken.

He shudders, pulling his pillow tight to his chest. I walk over to the bed and sit down. My fingers buzz with the need to reach for him. To stroke my fingers through his hair like Rey does so he’ll understand I do this because I care about him, not because I like controlling him.

“Remy…”

He won’t look at me or respond.

I try reaching him through the bond, but his wall is back up, impenetrable and cold as ice. It’d be easy enough to force my way in, yet I don’t. Instead, I stretch out next to him and stare up at the ceiling.

“I’m scared, Remy.”

This gets his attention. Curious tendrils come from his link to the bond, tickling and teasing at me. I let him feel the fear that clawed at me as I wondered if the same person or thing who’d hurt him years ago was back. The thought of Remy getting hurt was gutting.

He rolls toward me, his lashes wet and his doll-like features twisted into an expression of raw pain. Everything about his physical appearance screams fragile. But beneath his lean but still muscular body and severe features and messy dark hair is a powerful presence. With each day, I feel it growing bigger and bigger. I acknowledge it and let him feel that I do. Surprise washes over his face.

Rather than signing to me, he studies me. I turn on my side, propping my head up on my hand so he can get his fill. Remy thinks I’m an overprotective asshole, but it’s because I can’t stomach the idea of anything happening to him. He’s ours. I let him feel that too.

“I was going to buy you a gift,” I tell him, my voice sounding like tires on gravel, “but you’re spoiled already.”

He rolls his eyes, but a flash of amusement dances across his face. I study his gaze for a beat too long because he signs a question. But you got me something anyway?

“Not necessarily tangible,” I say with a nod, “but something I think you’ll appreciate nonetheless.”

His brows crash together as he attempts to piece together what it could be. I can sense his probing through the bond but shying away when Finnick’s playfulness floods through us with incredible force.

“I want you to work with me. As a forest tech. An apprenticeship if you will.”

His eyes widen at my words, and he signs, Really?

“I wanted to wait until your birthday because I felt you’d be old enough and you wouldn’t need school anymore. You’re ahead in all your studies. Finishing your final year of high school with all the other kids who are way far behind you intellectually would be an absolute bore for you, Remy.”


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