Brothersong is the fourth and final book in the Green Creek Series, the beloved fantasy romance sensation by New York Times bestselling author TJ Klune, about love, loyalty, betrayal, and family.
“Complex and startling… Green Creek is the perfect setting.” —Charlaine Harris
The Bennett family has a secret: They’re not just a family, they’re a pack. Brothersong is Carter Bennett’s story.
In the ruins of Caswell, Maine, Carter Bennett learned the truth of what had been right in front of him the entire time. And then it—he—was gone. Desperate for answers, Carter takes to the road, leaving family and the safety of his pack behind, all in the name of a man he only knows as a feral wolf. But therein lies the danger: wolves are pack animals, and the longer Carter is on his own, the more his mind slips toward the endless void of Omega insanity. But he pushes on, following the trail left by Gavin.
Gavin, the son of Robert Livingstone. The half-brother of Gordo Livingstone.
What Carter finds will change the course of the wolves forever. Because Gavin’s history with the Bennett pack goes back further than anyone knows, a secret kept hidden by Carter’s father, Thomas Bennett. And with this knowledge comes a price: the sins of the fathers now rest upon the shoulders of their sons.
Please enjoy this free excerpt of Brothersong by TJ Klune, on sale 9/01/24
GONE
“A wolf,” my father once told me, “is only as strong as his tether.
Without a tether, without something to remind him of his humanity, he’ll be lost.”
I stared up at him with wide eyes. I thought no one could ever be as big as my father. He was all I could see. “Really?”
He nodded, taking my hand. We were walking through the woods.
Kelly had wanted to come with us, but Dad said he couldn’t.
Kelly had cried, only stopping when I told him I’d come back and we’d play hide-and-seek. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
I was eight years old. Kelly was six. Our promises were important.
My father’s hand engulfed my own, and I wondered if I would be like him when I grew up. I knew I wasn’t going to be an Alpha. That was Joe, though I didn’t understand how my two-year-old brother would be the Alpha of anything. I’d been jealous when my parents told us Joe would be something I could never be, but it’d faded when Kelly said it was okay, Carter, because that means you and me will always be the same.
I never worried about it after that.
“Soon,” my father said, “you’ll be ready for your first shift. It’ll be scary and confusing, but so long as you have your tether, all will be well. You’ll be able to run with your mother and me and the rest of our pack.”
“I already do that,” I reminded him.
He laughed. “You do, don’t you? But you’ll be faster. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up with you.”
I was shocked. “But . . . you’re the Alpha. Of everyone.”
“I am,” he agreed. “But that’s not what’s important.” He stopped under a large oak tree.
“It’s about the heart that beats in your chest. And you’ve got a great heart, Carter, one that beats so strongly that I think you might be the fastest wolf who ever lived.”
“Whoa,” I breathed. He dropped my hand before sitting on the ground, his back to the tree. He crossed his legs, motioning for me to do the same.
I did so, and quickly, not wanting him to change his mind about how fast I would be. My knees bumped his as I mirrored his pose.
He smiled at me as he said, “A tether to a wolf is precious, something guarded fiercely. It can be a thought or an idea. The feeling of pack. Of home.” His smile faded slightly. “Or of where home should be. Take us, for example. We’re here in Maine, but I don’t know if that’s our home. We’re here because of what’s asked of us. Because of what I must do. But when I think of home, I think of a little town in the west, and I miss it terribly.”
“We can go back,” I told my dad. “You’re the boss. We can go wherever we want.”
He shook his head. “I have a responsibility, one I’m grateful for. Being an Alpha isn’t about doing whatever I want. It’s about weighing the needs of the many. Your grandfather taught me that. An Alpha means putting others above yourself.”
“And that’s going to be Joe,” I said dubiously. When I’d seen him last, he’d been in a high chair in the kitchen, Mom scolding him for putting Cheerios up his nose.
He laughed. “One day. But not for a long time. But today is about you. You’re just as important as your brother, as is Kelly. Even though Joe’s going to be the Alpha, he’ll look to you for guidance. An Alpha needs someone like the two of you who he can trust, who he can look to when he’s uncertain. And you’ll need to be strong for him. Which is why we’re here. You don’t need to know what your tether is today, but I’ll ask you to start thinking about it and what it could be to you—”
“Can it be a person?”
He paused. Then, “Why do you ask?”
“Can it?”
He stared at me for a long time. “It can. But having a person as your tether can be . . . difficult.”
“Why?”
“Because people change. We don’t stay the same. We learn and grow and, from new experiences, are shaped into something more. Sometimes, people aren’t . . . well. They aren’t who they’re supposed to be or how we think of them. They change in ways we don’t expect, and while we want them to remember the good times, they can only focus on the bad. And it colors their world in shadows.”
There was a look on his face I’d never seen before, and it made me uneasy. But it was gone before I could ask after it. “Is a tether a secret?”
He nodded. “It can be. Having a tether is… it’s a treasure. One that is unlike anything else in the world. Some even say it’s more important than having a mate.”
I grimaced. “I don’t care about that. Girls are weird. I don’t want a mate. That’s stupid.”
He chuckled. “I’ll remind you of that when the day comes. And I can’t wait to see the look on your face.”
“What’s yours? You can tell me. I won’t say anything to anyone.”
He tilted his head back against the tree. “You promise?”
I nodded eagerly. “Yeah.”
When my father smiled for real, you could see it in his eyes. It was like a light shining from within. “It’s all of you. My pack.”
“Oh.”
“You sound disappointed.”
I shrugged. “I’m not. It’s just… you always talk about pack and pack and pack.” I scrunched up my face. “I guess it makes sense.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Is it the same for Mom?”
“Yes. Or at least it was. Tethers can change over time. Like people, they evolve. Where it once might have been the idea of pack, it’s become more pointed. More focused. For her, it’s her sons. You and Kelly and Joe. It started with you and grew because of Kelly and Joe. She would do anything for you.”
Fire burned in my chest, safe and warm. “Mine won’t ever change.”
My father looked at me curiously. “Why?”
“Because I won’t let it.”
“You sound as if you already know what it is.”
“’Cause I do.”
He leaned forward, taking my hands in his. “Will you tell me?”
I looked up at him, too young to understand the depths of my love for him. All I knew was that my father was here and asking me something that felt important, something just between us. A secret. “You can’t tell anyone.”
His lips twitched. “Not even Mom?”
I frowned. “Well, she’s okay, I guess. But not anyone else!”
“I swear,” he said, and since he was an Alpha, I knew he meant it.
I said, “Kelly. It’s Kelly.”
He closed his eyes. His throat clicked as he swallowed. “Why?”
“Because he needs me.”
“That’s not—”
“And I need him.”
He opened his eyes. I thought I saw a flash of red. “Tell me.”
“He’s not like Joe. Joe’s gonna be Alpha, and he’ll be big and strong like you, and everyone will listen to him because he’ll know what to do. You’ll tell him. But Kelly is always going to be a Beta like me. We’re the same.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I needed him to understand. “When I have bad dreams, he doesn’t make fun of me and tells me everything is going to be okay. When he hurt his knee and it took a long time to heal, I cleaned it up for him and told him it was okay to cry, even though we’re boys. Boys can cry too.”
“They can,” my father whispered.
“And I think about him all the time,” I told him. “When I feel sad or mad, I think about him and I feel better. That’s what tethers do, right? They make you happy. Kelly makes me happy.”
“He’s your brother.”
“It’s more than that.”
“How?”
I was frustrated. I didn’t know how to put the thoughts in my head into words. Words that would show him just how far it went. Finally, I said, “It’s… he’s everything.”
For a moment I thought I’d said the wrong thing. My father was staring at me strangely, and I squirmed. But instead of a rebuke, he pulled me toward him, and it was like I was a cub again as I turned around, settling between his legs, my back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, his chin on the top of my head. I breathed him in, and in the back of my mind, a voice that had once been weak whispered as strong as I’d ever heard it.
packpackpack
“You surprise me,” my father said. “Every day you surprise me. I’m so lucky to have someone such as you as mine. Never, ever forget that. And if you say your tether is Kelly, then so it shall be. You’ll be a good wolf, Carter. And I can’t wait to see the man you’ll become. No matter where I am, no matter what has happened, I’ll remember this gift you’ve given me. Thank you for sharing your secret. I’ll keep it safe.”
“But you’re not going anywhere, right?”
He laughed again, and even though I couldn’t see him, I knew he was smiling all the way up to his eyes. “No. I’m not going anywhere. Not for a very long time.”
We stayed there, under a tree in the refuge outside of Caswell, Maine, for what felt like hours.
Just the two of us.
And when we finally went home, Kelly was waiting for us on the porch, gnawing on his bottom lip. He lit up when he saw me and almost tripped as he ran down the stairs. He managed to stay upright, and he tackled me into the grass as our father watched. He threw his hands up over his head as he howled in triumph, a cracked thing that didn’t sound anything like the other wolves.
I grinned up at him. “Wow. You’re so strong!”
He poked my nose. “You were gone forever. I got bored. Why did it take so long?”
“I’m here now,” I told him. “And I won’t leave you again.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah. I promise.”
And as I hugged my tether close, listening to him talk excitedly in my ear about how Joe had stuck two Cheerios up his nose and how Mom had gotten mad when Uncle Mark had laughed, I told myself it was a promise I’d always keep.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I snapped. “Do you have to follow me everywhere? Dude. Seriously. Back off.”
The timber wolf glared at me.
I tilted my head, listening.
Everyone was in the house. I could hear Mom and Jessie laughing about something in the kitchen.
I jerked my head toward the woods.
The timber wolf huffed out a breath.
I ran.
He followed.
I laughed when he nipped at my heels, urging me on, and in my head, I pretended I could hear his wolf voice saying faster faster faster must run faster so I can chase so I can catch you so I can eat you. We went deep into the forest, bypassing the clearing, heading for the furthest reaches of our territory. The wolf never ran ahead, always staying at my side, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
We ran for miles, the scent of spring so green I could taste it. Eventually, I stopped, chest heaving, muscles burning from exertion.
I collapsed on the ground spread-eagled as the wolf paced around me, head raised, sniffing the air, ears twitching. When he decided there was no threat, he lay down beside me, head on my chest, tail curled over my legs. He huffed out an annoyed breath in my face.
I rolled my eyes. “Have to keep up appearances. I’ve got a reputation to maintain. You know how much shit I would get if anyone found out?” I flicked his forehead.
He growled, baring his teeth.
“Yeah, yeah. And I wasn’t exactly lying. You do follow me everywhere. A man has got to be able to shit in peace without an overgrown dog scratching at the door. You don’t see me staring at you when you’re squatting in the backyard.”
He closed his eyes.
I flicked him again. “Don’t ignore me.”
He opened one eye. For something that wasn’t exactly human, he certainly could get his exasperation across.
“Whatever, man. I’m just saying.”
He sneezed on me.
“Fucking asshole,” I muttered, wiping my face. “Just you wait. You’ll get yours. Kibble. I’m going to make sure you only get kibble from here on out.”
Thick clouds passed by overhead. I laughed when a dragonfly landed between his ears, causing them to flatten. The translucent wings fluttered before it flew away.
He was a heavy weight upon me.
Once I thought it crushing.
Now it felt like an anchor holding me in place.
It should have bothered me more than it did.
He grunted, a question without words, his breath hot on my chest through my thin shirt.
“Same old, same old. Who, how, why. You know how it is.”
Who are you?
How did you come to be this way?
Why can’t you shift back?
Questions I’d asked over and over again.
He grumbled, lips pulling back over his teeth.
“I know, dude. It’s whatever, you know? You’ll figure it out when you’re ready. Just . . . maybe that could be sooner rather than later? I mean, would it be so bad if you—stop growling at me, you dick! Oh, fuck you, man. Don’t take that tone with me.”
He moved his head, nosing at my arm.
I ignored him.
He pressed harder, more insistent.
I sighed. “You’re spoiled. That’s what’s wrong here. You think you’ve got it good. And you do. Maybe too good.” But I did what he wanted, resting my hand on top of his head, scratching the backs of his ears.
He closed his eyes again as he settled.
We were drifting, just the two of us. The world around us turned hazy, the edges like a dream. Hours passed by, and sometimes we dozed, and sometimes we just . . . were.
I said, “You can, you know?”
I said, “If you want to.”
I said, “I don’t know what happened to you.”
I said, “I don’t know where you came from or what you had to deal with.”
I said, “But you’re safe here.”
I said, “You’re safe with us. With me. We can help you. Ox . . . he’s a good Alpha. Joe too. They could be yours if you wanted.”
I said, “And then maybe I could hear your voice. I mean, totally no homo, but I think it’d be . . . nice.”
He was shaking.
I looked at him, thinking something was wrong.
It wasn’t.
The motherfucker was laughing at me.
I shoved him off me. “Asshole.”
He rolled over on his back, legs in the air, body wiggling as he scratched himself on the ground. Then he fell to his side, mouth open in a ferocious yawn.
“Would it be so bad?” I whispered. “Shifting back? You can’t stay this way forever. You can’t lose yourself to your wolf. You’ll forget how to find your way home.”
He turned his head away from me.
I’d pushed enough for the day. I could always try again tomorrow. We had time.
I sat up, stretching my arms above my head.
His tail thumped on the ground.
“Okay, so where did we leave off last time? Oh. Right. So, Ox and Joe decided it was time for them to mate. Which, honestly, I try not to think about because that’s my little brother, you know? And if I do think about it, it makes me want to punch Ox in the mouth because that’s my little brother. But what the fuck do I know, right? So, Ox and Joe . . . well. You know. Bone. And it was weird and oh so gross, because I could feel it. Oh, shut up, I didn’t mean like that. I meant I could feel it when their mate bond formed. We all could. It was like this . . . this light. Burning in all of us. Mom said she’s never heard of a pack having two Alphas before, but it made sense that it happened with us because of how crazy we already are. Ox is . . . well. He’s Ox, right? Werewolf Jesus. And then he and Joe came out of the house, and I never want to smell that on my little brother ever again. It was like he’d rolled in spunk, and Kelly and I were gagging because what the fuck? We gave him so much shit for it. That . . . that was a good day.”
I glanced down at him.
He was watching me with violet eyes.
“And that’s how it ended. At least the first part. There’s still Mark and Gordo to—”
His tail twitched dangerously. His body tensed.
My hand stilled. “Why do you get like that every time I bring up Gordo? I know you’re an Omega and all and you’ve probably got evil Livingstone magic in you, but it’s not his fault. You really need to get over whatever the hell is wrong with you. Gordo’s good people. I mean, yeah, he’s a dick, but so are you. You guys have more in common than you think. Sometimes you even make the same facial expressions.”
He snapped at me.
I laughed and fell back against the grass, hands behind my head.
“Fine. Be that way. We don’t have to talk about it today. There’s always tomorrow.”
We stayed there, just the two of us, until the sky began to streak with red and orange.
As I sat behind my dead father’s desk for the last time on a cold winter morning, I wondered what he would think of me.
He told me once that difficult decisions must be made with a level head. It was the only way to make sure they were right.
The house was quiet. Everyone was gone.
My father was a proud man. A strong man. There was a time when I thought he could do no wrong, that he was absolute in his power, all knowing.
But he wasn’t.
For someone such as him, an Alpha wolf from a long line of wolves, he was terribly human in the mistakes he made, the people he’d hurt, the enemies he’d trusted.
Ox.
Joe.
Gordo.
Mark.
Richard Collins.
Osmond.
Michelle Hughes.
Robert Livingstone.
He had been wrong about all of them. The things he’d done.
And yet . . . he was still my father.
I loved him.
If I tried hard enough, if I really tried, I could almost smell him embedded in the bones of this house, in the earth of this territory that had seen so much death.
I loved him.
But I hated him too.
I thought that was what it meant to be a son: to believe in someone so much that it caused blindness to all their faults until it didn’t.
Thomas Bennett wasn’t infallible. He wasn’t perfect. I could see that now.
Days ago, I was on a ledge.
Below me was a void.
I hesitated. But I thought I’d already been falling for a long time. I just hadn’t realized it.
That final step came easier than I expected it to. I’d already prepared. Drained my bank accounts. Packed my bags. Prepared to do what I thought I had to.
Which led me to this. Now.
This moment when I knew nothing would ever be the same.
I looked at the computer monitor on the desk.
I saw a version of myself staring back, one I didn’t recognize. This Carter had dead eyes and black circles underneath them. This Carter had lost weight, his cheekbones more pronounced. This Carter had bloodless skin. This Carter knew what it meant to lose something so precious and yet was about to make things worse. This Carter had taken hit after hit after hit, and for what?
This Carter was a stranger.
And yet he was me.
My hand shook as I settled it on the mouse, knowing if I didn’t do this now, I would never do it.
And that’s the point, my father whispered. You are a wolf, but you’re still human. You give all you can, and yet you still bleed. Why would you make it worse? Why would you do this to yourself? To your pack? To him?
Him.
Because it always came back to him.
I thought it always would.
Which is why when I hit the little icon on the screen to start recording, his name was the first thing from my lips.
“Kelly, I. . . .”
And oh, the things I could say. The sheer magnitude of everything he was to me. My mother told me when I was young that I would never forget my first love. That even when all seemed dark, when all was lost, there would be the little pulsing light of memory stored deeply away.
She’d been talking about a faceless girl.