Chapter 12
Cricket
To properly clean up, I have to go to the command post to grab an air freshener with a heavy chemical scent and douse our office. Will it eliminate my mating pheromones? No. But it will make inhaling deeply intolerable until both scents can dissipate.
I can’t believe I fucking marked her without her permission.
Well, pseudo-marked her, because my fangs didn’t puncture the skin, but sliced a shallow cut deep enough to redden with blood, allowing my serum to permeate her blood stream. It’s not an actual mark, and my cat is wailing his disapproval of my decision to pull back and not claim her here and now.
Still, it’s enough that both Pitch and Crash will know to stay away from her, at least for a little while. I’m sure it will send Crash into a tirade that I’ll have to deal with, but he’s going to have to get over it.
Just like I need to get over his betrayal eight years ago.
Doralee had a point earlier when she asked what else we were fighting about prior to that fateful night.
The problem is, we didn’t fight. Although we are identical twins, we were into very different things as teenagers.
I took learning we were shifters differently than he did.
While we’re both naturally athletic, I leaned into it, joining the football team and emerging as a varsity star our freshman year.
Our secret lying underneath the surface made me invincible, and I was very cocky about it, never backing down from a challenge and dominating everything I attempted.
Plus, I shifted six months earlier than Crash—right before high school started—which looking back, probably fucked with him psychologically.
I never teased him about it, and I was supportive when he first went through the change.
Because I was comfortable shifting by the time he did it for the first time, I was the one to call Sam and rush Crash into the woods.
But he never used his strength to become another high school king.
It would have been so easy for him to do so, especially with me by his side.
He didn’t join the football team, but was a track star and a robotics club geek.
He’s more of an introvert than I am, and back then his friend circle was academically smart and small, while mine was full of other cocky assholes who got off on being adored as we took the team to the state championship four years in a row.
Although our lives and interests were very different, we never fought about it.
Did years of animosity help him plunge that blade into my back?
I’ve spent the last eight years pretending he never existed—hell, none of my SpecOps family knew about him until this morning—but Doralee has a point about healing from the festering wound that has been filled with not knowing what the fuck was going on in his head that night.
I’ve met my mate. She’s my priority.
But will my unresolved relationship with my twin hang over our future?
Unable to stand the reek in the office, the fake floral stench chases me into the still airplane hangar. I hear his breathing from several containers away, but he hides in the darkness and sits around the corner out of sight.
“Seriously?” My voice reverberates off the metal walls and cavernous ceiling.
“You did it,” he replies, his tone somber.
“Yeah,” I lie and then think better of it. “Well no, not exactly. Not yet.”
“I smell you on her.”
“Did you confront her?” My cat sits up at the challenge as my hands clench into fists. If he embarrassed her or made her uncomfortable in any way, I’ll take a chunk out of his ass.
He chuckles. “Down, kitty. She didn’t know I was here.”
“Were you sitting outside the office like a creeper?”
“No, but you know soundproofing doesn’t work on us—not completely, anyway. It doesn’t stop screams from seeping through.”
“Yes, I know.” I lean against the wall with my arms crossed over my chest. Maybe this is better—talking without facing each other.
“Can you hear me?” I test out our telepathic conversation skills, just in case someone walks in.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to be a dick about this?”
“You can’t help who the Fates gift you, right?”
“Right.” I press my lips together and look up at the ceiling. “You didn’t want her. So what’s the problem?”
“Who says I didn’t want her?”
“Doralee, because of your complete lack of interest prior to this morning.”
He says nothing, neither confirming nor denying it. Silence fills the air, and I hear him move, which brings my eyes up to the top of the containers. I still don’t see him, but I sense him closer than I expected.
“Why’d you really stab me in the back?” I say it out loud so the echo punctuates my words, hoping he’ll reply in kind.
“Does it matter?” he thinks, removing my ability to pinpoint his location.
“Yeah, it does.”
“Forget it, Cricket. It was a long time ago, and everything worked out perfectly for you, anyway. Always has, always will. Doralee will be handed to you on a silver platter, just like everything else in your life.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I jump and pull myself on top of the nearest container. He’s on the opposite end, his eyes glowing in the darkness. The look on his face is one of pain, like it was when I dropped the news on him in the parking lot a few hours ago.
This has nothing to do with Doralee.
This is about us.
“You hate me, but you won’t say why.”
Crash sighs and closes his eyes. “Identical twins, but nothing alike. We could have dressed the same, worn our hair the same, mimicked each other’s speech patterns, and I still wouldn’t have been worthy of your throne.”
“You didn’t want a throne, and I would have gladly shared mine with you.”
“Your popularity blinded you, and you had no idea what was going on under your nose.” He shakes his head and mutters, “You have no idea what it was like being your shadow.”
“You’re right, I had no idea. I still don’t because you never talk to me. Even now, you’re spitting riddles.” I open my arms in challenge. “If you have a problem with me, fucking lay it on me so we can put this shit to rest.”
His eyes open, and they glow with anger. “Just once, I would like to be first.”
My jaw drops. “I can’t believe you’re jealous over shit that I have no control over. I was born first—not my choice. I shifted first. Not my choice. I found my fated mate first. Not my choice!”
Crash rolls his eyes and jumps off the container, landing on his feet with ease. “I know it wasn’t your choice. You never have to make a choice because you’re the twin everything always works out for and I’m the cursed one.”
He leaves me standing on top of a metal container overlooking a sea of identical metal containers wholly unsatisfied with our entire conversation. Did he jab a blade into my back because he was jealous?
Fucking really?
I jump down and exit the building. It’s been nearly a half hour since Doralee left, and now my mind is torn between the bullshit with my brother and the unsatisfying way my mate and I parted. There’s so much to tell her, but this is not the kind of shit you spring on someone, especially a human.
By the way, Doralee. I know we only met this morning, but I’m a shifter.
I turn into a cougar. Isn’t that cool? But the best part is you’re my fated mate and if you don’t accept me as yours, I’m going to go bat shit crazy and lose part of myself.
No pressure, though. Can I take you out for ice cream or some shit?
Sweet Fates! I barely found out she was single before laying her out on a table. There’s so much to learn about her. Is she a career agent? What are her goals? Where does she want to live?
She never told me about her brother.
My head spins as I lock myself in my room and strip out of my clothes—my cock semi-hard and angry.
It never did fully deflate after I had my mouth on her, not even while bitching at my twin, and now that I’m alone and naked, all it takes is one lick of my lips to fill my lungs with her scent, and I’m fully hard and fisting myself.
Groaning, I flop back on my double bed and roll to my side, shoving my face in my pillow while stroking my cock like a teenage boy.
The whole fated mate thing is ridiculous.
My entire being—mind, body, and spirit—is out of whack. My human and animal sides are at war, my hormones raging while my heart breaks.
I close my eyes at the thought.
Shit. My heart is breaking over a loss I haven’t experienced yet. She’s fifty plus yards away. I can sense her nearby, and yet, I feel lost without her by my side.
Fuck me—I’m losing it.
Abandoning my cock, I slip under the blankets and envision Doralee’s beautiful face.
Her pouty lips and freckled nose, big hazel eyes and creamy complexion.
She has soft hair, and I’d love to sit on a couch with her head in my lap so I can absently run my fingers through it while we talk about our futures together.
These are the sappy lovelorn thoughts I’m having as I doze off, but they are not the thoughts I wake to.
No. I wake in my animal form, as my cougar attempts to open the door without opposable thumbs.
Sweet Fates, I haven’t shifted in my sleep since the first month. Locking that down was the first thing Sam taught us how to do. Shifting, I grab the chair and place it under the door handle, thankful it's a round knob and not a latch.
Knock it the fuck off! I hiss at my cat, who bares his teeth and hisses back at me.
Two more times throughout the night he tries to escape, which means I got shit for sleep and missed my alarm as well as three calls from Colonel Packard.
But I can’t deal with him just yet. I have another phone call I need to make first.