Three Hours (Seven Series Book 5)

“That’s a nightly occurrence. Welcome to our home.”

 

 

“You’re an outsider without any relation to them. What’s it like living in a pack? Do you gather outside, howl at the moon, and dance naked?”

 

He waggled his eyebrows. “That might be fun. But nah, it’s pretty normal around here compared to how I grew up.”

 

“Was it terrible?”

 

He leaned forward in his chair. “The worst. I don’t like talking about it, but I’m sure you can guess how a guy like me fit right in.”

 

Being gay, Trevor had undoubtedly faced cruelty at the hands of older wolves in his pack who were against it. Not because they had moral issues so much as they saw a wolf turning away from having children as a betrayal to their own kind.

 

“I’m glad I wasn’t born a wolf,” I said. “I can’t imagine the controlling lifestyle of a pack.”

 

He sniffed out a short laugh. “That was just my family. We lived in bumfuck nowhere, so they were the kind of pack that made up their own rules. Anyhow, my family cut me off. I assumed that’s how all packs were until I gave these guys a shot. I’d convinced myself they were going to go back on their word in the first month and force me out, but no one here has ever made me feel like anything less than a brother. Yeah, they razz on me, but I get them back and it’s all friendly shit. Nothing personal, and we always eat together. It’s hard to stay mad at someone who has to pass you the rolls.”

 

“What’s it like?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. “Living with a pack, that is.”

 

His gazed shifted. “It’s like… home. No matter where I go or what shit I’m in, I know I’ve got my pack by my side. I don’t have that feeling of being alone anymore. It’s hard to get used to the idea new people will come in, because I don’t know how they’ll fit in with me or anyone else in the family. It’s not just about me; I’d be pissed as hell if someone came in and bullied someone in my pack. I feel protective of them.”

 

A strange feeling overcame me, one I’d felt before in the presence of the Weston pack. Envy. A longing to know what it was like to feel love and loyalty from people who truly cared and didn’t just want something from me. Everything in my life had become nothing more than an exchange of needs. Men objectified me, and that’s why I’d raised my standards on who was good enough to take me to bed. So many men had wooed me for months in hopes of having something unattainable on their arm—a trophy other men could admire. Maybe that’s why I’d bonded with Lexi from the beginning; she loved my company and valued our friendship. Most of the girls at the club were catty—always suspicious you were out to steal their act or regular customers. Lexi’s was the first true friendship I’d ever known.

 

Pack dynamic fascinated me, and at the same time labeled me an outcast. Especially now that my secret was out.

 

“What’s wrong?” Trevor asked. “Something I said?”

 

“No.” I looked down and realized I’d misaligned the buttons on my white blouse, leaving an extra one at the bottom.

 

A knock sounded at the open door. “Sorry, didn’t know you had company,” William said.

 

I liked William. I’d once told Lexi he reminded me of a naughty pirate with those loose curls of short hair that sometimes obscured his eyes.

 

Trevor’s chair squeaked when he sat up straight. “What’s up?”

 

William leaned on his left shoulder, his gaze drifting about the room. “Say, a little bird told me your birthday was last week.”

 

Trevor’s eyes narrowed and he folded his arms. “April needs to learn to keep her beak shut. I didn’t want to make it a thing. It never was before, so I don’t see a point now.”

 

Shifters weren’t big on celebrating birthdays. When you live for hundreds of years, what’s the point of keeping count?

 

“Well, you buy April gifts,” William pointed out.

 

“She’s my girl. Of course I get her gifts. April’s human and she likes her presents, but yeah… no big deal.”

 

“Indeed,” William murmured. “Shame.”

 

Trevor played with the string on his sweats. “What’s a shame?”

 

“Well, I got you this gift, and now I’ll have to take it back.”

 

The back of Trevor’s neck turned a deep shade of red. “You got me a gift? Quit bullshitting.” He relaxed a little and spun in his chair.

 

William’s hand appeared, holding a box with shiny green wrapping. “Go on and take it. You can throw it in the trash if it’s not something you want. No biggie.” He spun on his heel and disappeared out of sight.

 

Trevor slowly peeled the tape from the edges and peered inside.

 

“What is it?” I asked.

 

He unfolded the paper and let it fall to the floor. In his hands was a model-airplane kit. This one looked like one of those old bombers from World War II. Most of the ones in his room were either commercial airliners or jets.

 

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