The three of us let out loud breaths, glad my brother backed down and this didn’t go further. The fact that he didn’t leave the barbecue altogether though means that none of this is over. We’re definitely in for a hell of a night.
“So… is that what a shifter pissing contest looks like?” Noah asks dryly from behind us.
I huff out an incredulous laugh, tempted to say yes. It’d be easy to tell her that’s as bad as it gets, but we’re not going to do Noah any favors by sugarcoating things. “No. It’s usually much worse than that.”
I track my brother with my eyes as he joins the others. I have the distinct feeling that this little encounter with Kyson is just the appetizer, and I’m not looking forward to what he dishes up next.
It seems Noah’s about to experience the full range of my family’s dysfunction tonight. That pisses me off more than it normally would because it will make it harder to help her understand how amazing a pack can be, and that’s what tonight is supposed to be all about.
How the hell are we going to show her the incredible side of shifter life when I can’t even get Kyson to pull his head out of his ass long enough for us to paint the picture?
When I glance back up at her, Noah’s expression is serious, her eyes studying me carefully.
I look to Ellery for help explaining why my brother’s such a shithead, without coming off like an asshole myself. He’s better at smoothing things over than I am.
“Packs have a hierarchy,” he starts to explain. “Kyson’s always been an insecure beta with a chip on his shoulder. Avoid him if you can. Everyone else is semi-decent, but he’s pure piss and vinegar.”
“Kyson, are the lovebirds here?” I hear Steph ask from nearby before my toddler-aged nieces go streaking past her, giggling and leaving a trail of clothing in their wake that Steph hurries to pick up. She doesn’t even have time to glance our way in her attempts to catch and re-dress her little ringlet-haired nudist spawn.
“Oh, are they here?” Ellery’s mom squeals, drawing everyone’s attention to us as we finally make our way to the back of the house. The huge sprawling deck overlooking the lake is big enough to host an outdoor kitchen, two seating areas with wicker couches, and a table long enough to fit twenty people.
I watch Noah carefully as introductions are lobbed at her like grenades. She’s pulled into hugs by most of the parents and patted hard on the back by one of my dads, who’s never been the most affectionate guy. Every interaction has me worried she’s about to make a run for it, and I wish I could just fucking relax. I wish there wasn’t so much riding on this.
I love my family—most of them—I really do, but Noah is barely comfortable around us, and now we’re exposing her to all of this, and I can’t help feeling this is a mistake.
I know it’s the incomplete mate bond talking, that I need to have faith and trust that the bond will work out, but shifter life can be a lot for someone who didn’t grow up around it. Gannon was happy about being an eerie, and even he struggled with acclimating to pack expectations. I suppose that could have something to do with the pack he was in before we found him, but fitting in—even when he wanted to—was hard.
With Noah—I’m not sure any part of her wants this life.
Alpha and Ellery felt it was better to introduce Noah to things sooner rather than later, but I also think Alpha Morgan might have blinders on when it comes to his son finding a mate. But when the alpha invites you over for any reason, the word no isn’t an option.
“Ruger!” I turn at the shout of my name and find my little brothers heading my way. Atlas and Arlo greet me with beaming smiles and big bear hugs. I squeeze the shit out of them right back and marvel at how much bigger they look since I saw them a few weeks ago. At twenty, they’re both hitting the last of their shifter growth spurts, and I wonder if they might take my title as the burliest in the family.
I’m caught up in small talk for a minute and lose sight of Noah as the twins catch me up on their classes at the community college two towns over. They’re both getting certifications as mechanics but would rather tell me about a claw ball tournament they were in than class. As much as I want to share their excitement, I find myself scanning the crowd, looking for a pair of blue-green eyes and gorgeous dark brown hair.
I spot Noah on my second pass. She’s no longer next to Ellery and his folks, who are finishing up cooking the food. The hair on the back of my neck rises slowly as I find her near the drink table, holding a beer and wearing a sour expression as Kyson leans in next to her.
I’m going to kill him. Did he not get the message loud and clear earlier?
Pressing my lips together, I leave the twins and beeline for them, ready to throttle him—consequences be damned.
“A vet tech? Ohh, I might need you to play doctor and give me a checkup later—” Kyson’s statement is dripping with sexual overtones, and it takes everything in me not to drown him in the bowl full of melted ice holding the beer bottles.
I close the distance, my steps mimicking my nephew Jayden’s and going full-on charging bull. But a wink from Noah as she glances over at me makes me slow down.
“Oh, I’m very good at what I do. I’m confident I could diagnose you right now,” she tells Kyson, her tone saucy and smooth, and I find myself wanting to lap it up and make her promise to only ever use it on me—I suppose Ellery and Perth can get in on it too, and maybe Gannon if he can stop getting in his own way.
“Is that right?” Kyson asks as he leans a little closer. I fist my hands to keep myself from punching through his back and ripping out his spine.
Noah laughs, but the edgy tinkle in it is forced and zero humor reaches her eyes. “I see it all the time, there’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed of,” she assures my brother. “That whole scooting your ass across the carpet thing is normal. Usually, it’s an anal sac issue. It happens when you’re full of shit,” she informs him casually as she takes a sip of her beer.
I bite back a chuckle as she tries not to grimace at the tart brew my Uncle Pete is notorious for making.
“Research shows that toxic jealousy can be a factor too, but confirming that usually requires a blood draw,” Noah continues. “Either way, I strongly recommend getting those bad boys expressed. That and some stain remover for the drag marks on the carpet, and you’re all set. Never let an asshole get you down, Kelvin.”
Kyson’s smile falters and then falls right off his face as her insult sinks in, searing him syllable by syllable. Before he can fully process the burn or even correct his name, Noah turns to me and strides closer. Those beautiful, intelligent eyes of hers turn a pleading look on me, one I could never hope to resist.
“Take me somewhere quiet for a minute?” she asks in a hushed undertone.
All I can do is nod, because I’m caught between awe over what I just witnessed and apprehension over the fact that she wants me to sneak her away.