Chapter 5
Chapter five
Mai
“Ground rules,” Ryan said, crouching down beside me. “If you feel tired or dizzy, you squeeze my hand twice. If me, Derek, or Carlito sense any danger, anything that feels off, there will be no arguments, no discussions—you’re back upstairs immediately.”
I nodded. I would accept any rule right now. I was just fucking delighted to be out of the bedroom. “I’ve got this.”
Sofia gave Derek one more kiss and then slipped back upstairs to continue painting with Wally.
The atmosphere in the room shifted as the front door opened.
Jase’s scent reached me first, then four werewolves.
I inhaled, trying to separate out their differing smells.
Underlying them all, though, was a scent that was the same—not uncommon for wolves who were part of the same Pack.
But something about that shared scent made my wolf uneasy.
Pack bonds usually smelled of home and safety.
This felt different. Almost stale, like old smoke sunk into cloth.
I couldn’t put my finger on what was bothering me about it, but the twins kicked hard against my ribs, and I rubbed my hands over my belly.
Evelyn and Ava, the enforcer who worked most with Evelyn, positioned themselves between me and the doorway. Ryan stood beside my chair, one hand resting on my shoulder, his thumb making small circles against my collarbone.
The one I assumed to be Glenn entered first, moving with the unmistakable confidence of an Alpha.
Even exhausted and grief-stricken, his shoulders were set in a way that commanded respect.
There was something in his brown eyes that spoke of terrible losses borne with dignity—the look of a leader who’d watched his world crumble but hadn’t broken.
As he stepped into our living room, I felt a pang of sympathy. This was what Ryan and I could have become if we’d lost everything. What any Alpha pair might face in these dangerous times.
His gaze found me immediately, and for just a beat too long, his eyes lingered on my swollen belly before lifting to my face.
A woman followed him in. Her dark hair was pulled back so tightly it looked painful. Her green eyes scanned the room before coming to rest on me.
“Mai Parker,” she inclined her head in a small nod, “I’m Sian. We appreciate your hospitality. We do not mean to impose on you or your Pack at this sensitive time for you all.”
I smiled back at her, trying to put her at ease. “Really, it’s no problem. The HFD is a threat to us all. I’m so sorry for the loss of your Pack.”
Grief flashed across her face, quickly hidden. “Thank you for your kind words. This is our Beta, Jonas.”
The man standing behind them was lean and battle-hardened, with the kind of stillness that came from years of watching for threats.
He’d picked the one place in the room that gave him clean sightlines to both the doorway and windows.
A scuffed field watch hugged his wrist, the crystal spider-webbed and notched as if he’d been tallying bad nights on the bezel.
When his gaze settled on me, it was flat, emotionless.
I got the impression it was his way of dealing with trauma—locking down all his feelings until nothing showed.
“We’ve come a long way to be here,” Jonas said.
The way he said it made me think he wasn’t referring to the distance from their Pack to Three Rivers.
The last of them—Vera—couldn’t stop staring at my belly like it was a lighthouse after a shipwreck.
Compact and precise, she wore blue jeans and a tucked-in white ruffled shirt.
A leather cord wrapped twice around her left wrist, threaded with three brass tags; her thumb found the middle one and tapped it—click, click.
“Yes,” she said, “we are all relieved to be here.” Her head tipped a fraction, listening the way a wolf does. “You’re having twins,” she added, soft but certain. “I can hear them. Two little drums.”
Ryan’s hand tightened on my shoulder.
“Vera,” Glenn snapped. “Not appropriate—”
“No. It’s okay,” I interrupted, talking to both Ryan and Glenn. They had just lost everyone in their Pack. If new life, if new babies, gave them a spark of hope, so be it. “After everything you have been through, I hope you can find some semblance of peace here.”
“We lost everyone. Family, friends…” His voice caught. “Our home.”
My throat tightened. This could have been us if one fight had gone the other way.
Could be us next if we don’t stop the HFD.
I let out some of the air I’d been hoarding and kept my tone soft.
“This isn’t the first disturbing report we’ve had about the HFD,” I said gently.
“Anything you can share will help us protect our Pack—and the Packs they’ll come for next. ”
Glenn nodded. “Of course. Anything you need to—”
A muffled thump sounded near the sofa, followed by a long-suffering feline yowl—the kind that meant someone had personally offended Her Majesty. Another, heavier thump. Evelyn’s fingers twitched toward her weapon. Jonas’s eyes slid that way. Vera’s tags clicked once. I lifted a hand.
Another thump.
“That’s Gremlin—our cat,” I said. “House security. It appears she’s currently conducting a covert operation under the furniture.”
A ragged scrape of claws on wood answered me. Not kitten-delicate. If you heard a victory meow in this house, it usually meant the threat—dust bunny, rogue screw, possibly the concept of gravity—had been neutralized.
“Is your cat… stuck?” Sian asked, mouth tight like she wasn’t sure if this was a test.
The scratching intensified, Gremlin issuing a yowl so offended it sounded like she was filing a formal grievance with the universe.
“Should we move the sofa?” Vera asked, thumb tapping the middle brass tag—click, click.
“She’s probably just playing,” I said, though the sounds suggested otherwise. “She likes to hide under there.”
Jonas dropped into a crouch with that economical grace of his, shoulder rolling once like he was stretching an old injury. “I could help get her out—”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ryan give Derek the smallest nod.
Derek took his phone out, gave it a cursory glance, and straightened. “Apologies for the interruption,” he said, smooth as glass, “but something’s come up that requires Ryan and Mai’s attention immediately.”
Yeah, right. Translation: Ryan was done humoring me, and it was time to extract the pregnant Alpha before she played chicken with her own limits.
Glenn straightened too, all alert lines and control. “Is there anything we can do to help? If it’s related to HFD movements—”
“We appreciate it,” Ryan said, voice easy but immovable. “You’ve had a brutal journey. Rest tonight. We’ll regroup in the morning.”
“Of course.” Glenn nodded, though I caught the flash of frustration in his eyes before he covered it. “We understand completely.”
As Evelyn and Ava shepherded the guests toward the waiting SUV outside, the sounds from under the sofa grew more desperate. A distinctly un-cat-like growl of frustration made everyone pause.
“Gremlin?”
“Forget the cat for a minute, Mai,” Ryan said, a protective edge sliding under my name. “How are you feeling?”
I took inventory. The mate bond buzzed low and steady; the twins had relocated and were now doing a suspiciously innocent stillness. “Tired,” I admitted. “Babies were doing a conga line earlier. Now… sleeping, I think.”
Thomas appeared as if by magic. “Let’s get you back in bed.”
Ugh. Bed. Yes, I felt tired, but the last thing I wanted to do was go back to the room I’d been stuck in for the last few weeks.
“Right. Sure, but first, we need to deal with our trapped cat,” I said, trying to buy myself more time.
Another yowl—this one so offended it could’ve been a formal complaint with the Moon Goddess.
Ryan sighed; he knew a stalling tactic when he heard one. “Fine.” He tipped his chin at Jase.
They took an end each. On three, the sofa came up—and a much larger white cat exploded out, a comet of dust bunnies and wounded dignity. She skidded to a halt mid-room and sat, tail puffed like a parade banner, and began methodically grooming her shoulder as if none of us existed.
“Holy shit,” Jase breathed. “When the fuck did that happen?”
There was no denying it now—she was easily twice the size she’d been yesterday.
“Okay,” I said faintly. “That’s… not normal.”
“Pregnancy brain?” Ryan suggested hopefully.
“All of us having pregnancy brain at the same time?”
“Bro,” Derek said, his eyes locked on Gremlin, “that ain’t no pregnancy brain. That cat is fucking huge!”