The uneven stack of boxes in my arms tipped precariously. I tried to rebalance them, but they tumbled to the ground in a cloud of dust.

“Fucking damnit!”

Normally, I had a bit better control over my emotions and therefore my language, but I was fresh out of patience. I blamed a tall, dark-haired alpha-hole.

“What’s with the language?”

I looked up quickly, not having heard anyone enter. Jonah stood there on the bottom step of the staircase to the basement, eyeing the boxes spilled across the floor.

I pointed to the offending items. “That.”

“What did they ever do to you?” His tone was slightly teasing, and it caught me off guard. I wondered what had caused it, because there certainly wasn’t anything I had done in the two seconds he’d been in my presence for it to be related to me. Unless he found my distress amusing. Definitely possible.

“Had the audacity to submit to gravity.”

One side of his mouth turned up, and I couldn’t help it. I had to say something. “What’s got you in such a good mood, Mr. Grumpy?” But I was apparently all out of bravery for the day, because I bent down to pick up all the random items that had fallen out of the boxes. It was a convenient excuse to hide my face and to avoid looking at Jonah.

“You did,” was his unexpected response.

I blinked up at him, my eyebrows drawn together in obvious confusion.

“I should be more specific,” he amended, “and say that it was actually you happening to my brother.”

My frown grew. “Oh. Why?”

He stepped forward and bent down to help me pick up the random crap wolves had put into storage down here ages ago. One boxed was marked a decade before I was even born. Anything older than twenty years was all going into the trash for all I cared. I didn’t have time to sort through everything. And if people didn’t want it after twenty years, I doubted they’d still want it now.

“You stood up to him, little wolf,” Jonah answered. I was beginning to think that his calling me ‘little wolf’ was some sort of joke to him, and I stiffened. “Not many wolves have ever done that.”

“Who told you that?”

“Noah did. Although, he was still pissed and didn’t actually say that. I think his exact words were ‘that conniving little witch.’”

We tossed items haphazardly back into boxes at random, not bothering to figure out which box had held the old rotary phone had belonged to or the bag of tarnished pennies.

“He did not actually say witch,” I chuckled, imagining Noah’s apparent rage at my words. Good. He deserved them.

“Honest, he actually did.”

“Then I wasn’t persuasive enough.”

Jonah let out a laugh, an actual laugh, and it surprised me so much that I dropped the deteriorating box of old photos that had somehow remained intact in the initial fall. Pictures spilled out, all in black and white, most of them faded and a few stuck together. I quickly scooped them into a box, getting dust and who knew what else under my nails, as a consideration struck me speechless. Could Jonah perhaps be the kinder brother with the rougher exterior?

It was worth considering. And consider it I would, but not when he was crouched right next to me.

“I think you were just on the right side of persuasive,” Jonah said. “After I asked him to explain what happened, he started to calm down and consider what you had accused him of. And I think he realized that there was a good amount of honest truth in there that he needed to hear. He’d make a good alpha, without a doubt, but he’d alienate himself from the rest of the pack doing it. I’m not saying you’ve fixed him; no one is that talented. But I bet in the future he’ll stop and take a second to consider things a bit more carefully.”

“Hmm,” was all I could think to say.

We finished throwing everything back into the boxes, and he grabbed two of the three off the ground.

“What are you doing down here, anyways?”

I paused in picking up the third box. “I’m finding a space, as your father asked me to.”

“What for?”

I straightened, leaving the box on the floor for the time being. “What do you mean?”

“Why did my father ask you to find space? What’s it for?”

“You mean Noah didn’t tell you?” Disbelief coated my voice.

“No. He was a little too angry at a particular wolf who he thinks stuck her nose in his business.”

“He’s the one who stuck his nose where it didn’t belong,” I muttered, more to myself. Jonah, of course, heard me, but said nothing. Clearly, I continued, “I’d asked Noah to train me. I think it’s pretty obvious I don’t know what I’m doing. And then he made it into a huge deal, saying how he needed to run to daddy and let him know all us women here suck and we’re such a liability, blah blah blah, without stopping to listen to my plan to fix the issue. So, apparently, the women will either have to learn to fight or leave. And I’m finding the space for training sessions.” I turned and gestured to the big area burdened with boxes and other random shit. “Which is what this space will be.”

Jonah set down his boxes off to the side.

“Oh, now you won’t help me?”

“You’re not responsible for clearing out what looks like half a century’s worth of shit on your own. And besides, strength training is always good. We’ll make it an exercise.”

“And you’re immediately on board with this training thing?”

He considered it for a moment. “I probably would have gone about it differently; I personally don’t see wolves as a liability. Even those who can’t fight can be helpful in certain situations. Unless, of course, the wolf has been severely injured. But if a wolf has two good legs on her and at least halfway functioning arms, I can find a useful task for her.”

I almost snorted. “Wish I would have found you first.”

It was Jonah’s turn to look surprised. “Why? I’m Mr. Grumpy, remember?”

He got a withering look for that.

“No,” I answered, “because maybe you would have actually listened to me. Noah had been more open with me, and I figured he’d actually hear what I had to say.”

“But you were wrong.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. I half-heartedly kicked a box. “But then again, if I hadn’t let your idiot brother have a piece of my mind, you probably wouldn’t even be talking to me right now.”

“Does that matter?”

I shrugged one shoulder, turning to look at the rest of the room. Light filtered in through high, tiny windows that barely reached above ground level. Motes of dust I had disturbed swirled lazily through the beams.

“At the end of this, it’s either you or Noah. But at least this way I can say that I know you both, just a little bit.” I kicked the box again, sending up another cloud of dust. “It isn’t much, but it’s something to work with, I guess.”

“You sound so…defeated.”

Turning then, I faced him head-on.

“Wouldn’t you, if you were forced between two people who didn’t want you?” I chuckled darkly. “At first, I was grateful to have a semblance of a choice in the matter. But I…I almost wish I didn’t. Because they I wouldn’t feel like I’m the hot potato.”

“Hot potato?” He looked extremely lost, and it was a funny expression on him.

“Yeah, you ever play that game as a kid?” Jonah shook his head. “Oh. Basically, you toss something back and forth between any number of people. You sing this silly song, and when the song ends, whoever has the ‘hot potato’ loses.”

Jonah’s face fell ever so slightly. I stepped past him, moving for the stairs, so I wouldn’t see his pity.

He had other plans.

His hand wrapped around my arm, and he swung me back around. I almost lost my footing, but he grabbed my other arm and held me steady as I suddenly found myself in his personal space. Or he in mine. Whichever. Space was being invaded.

“What?” I deadpanned, glaring up at him and daring him to say something uplifting to make me feel better.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “that we’ve made you feel like that.” I didn’t respond, but tried tugging against his grip on my arms. He didn’t budge. “This certainly isn’t fair to you, that we haven’t even given you a chance.”

“No, you haven’t,” I agreed, angrily. “And I would appreciate it if you would unhand me.”

“If I do, will you promise to listen to what I still have left to say?” I nodded, and he released my arms. I considered immediately bolting just to vex him, but realized that likely wouldn’t get me anywhere. “There are a few things that I can promise you, and a few that I can’t.”

He paused, waiting for me to say something, I thought. That, or gathering his wits.

“Oh-kay,” I answered. “Promises about…?”

“I can promise that I will try to get to know you. I promise to spend at least a little bit of time with you every day, unless pack business prevents me.” My heart started pounding with an insane amount of hope that I worried it might send me to my knees. “However, I can’t promise that I can open up enough to basically a stranger and let you see all of me. I’m a private person. And I can’t promise that at the end of this I will agree to marry you.”

I nodded. But that wasn’t enough, so I said, “I understand. There are parts of me that I keep to myself, too. But… I appreciate you at least attempting.” I reached up on my tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. It took him by surprise, his eyes widening, and a slight blush might have appeared on his cheeks. “So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”