Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
Adira
I stand in their impressive, immaculate kitchen with the industrial refrigerator and stove. I juggle my cane as I tug up my overnight bag, which Gael had retrieved from the Jeep for me when I first got here.
Shit, what was that, six days ago? Ugh.
I tug my phone out of the pocket of my loose jeans. Loose because I wore them for a few days at the conference and now they are all baggy in weird places.
Julian opens the front door, a knit cap over his dark hair. There’s a logo on it I don’t recognize, but I have to bite down a smile. He’s cute in a hat. His hoodie looks extra snuggly too.
He frowns at me. “Where’s your coat?”
“I didn’t bring one. I was going to the city for just a couple days.” I give him an unimpressed look for his mothering.
“I suppose you don’t want me to carry you to the side-by?” he asks, arching a dark eyebrow on his fine-boned face.
I silently start towards the door in answer.
I hear him mutter, “Damn witch,” under his breath, but I decide to pretend I didn’t.
The door shuts, and he jogs ahead of me, opening the half-door to the four-wheeler contraption.
He takes the bag from my shoulder gently, which I allow silently as I manage climbing in. I’m still feeling pretty weak.
He shuts the door and hurries around. I look up at their house. It’s gorgeous, honestly. A huge garage with four doors is to the left. One of the doors is up, revealing some classic sports car and a fancy rolling tool cart next to it.
As Jules puts it in reverse I see a patio off the side of the house, complete with a huge grill and comfy looking chairs.
Hrmph. Good thing I’m not easily impressed.
It takes us a while to get to my Jeep. The ride is silent as I try not to visibly shiver in the wind.
When we stop, Julian hops out.
“Is this really all your property?” I ask as I open the door.
“Yup,” he answers and points up into a tree. I struggle to see what he’s pointing at. “Trail cams and motion sensors. That’s how I spotted you. Good thing too, fool omega.” He adds the last bit softly.
“Hey now. I didn’t know I was an omega!” I protest.
He gives me a look as he tries not to smile. “Uh-huh. When you get back, you gotta call a shifter doc and get on?—”
I cut him off, “Heat and scent suppressants. I know, I know.”
I meet his dark eyes and I see concern flicker in them. But I recall a moment from the other day where Jules had made the most intense eye contact as he choked me on his huge dick, and I quickly look down as I blush.
“I will, Julian. You guys impressed upon me the importance of it. And keeping my mouth shut.”
No, thank you, will I be getting claimed against my will. Fuck all of that noise. Going to get some bear spray to keep in my bag. I can’t imagine I’ll run into any type of shifter larger than a bear, so I should be good.
I open the door to my Jeep and toss my cane to the passenger side. Julian leans in and puts my bag on the passenger seat. “Oh, shit,” he blurts. “One sec.”
He trots back over to the four-wheeler and for a moment I want to ask him if I can see his wolf. Just so I know what he looks like.
But the insane urge passes, thank Goddess. I need to make an offering for getting through this fucking craziness unscathed. Or… mostly. Not sure my holes are ever going to be satisfied with a witch ever again. And apparently, I have a Daddy kink.
Julian hands me a white box. “From Gael. He said to leave it in the box for the drive.”
“Okay,” I say, taking it. His hand lingers under mine for a moment but it slips away. Emotion drops through me.
Nope, no time for hormonal omega bullshit right now. I sure hope those suppressants tamp down this emotional nonsense too.
“Thanks again,” I say as I lean out and grab the door handle.
He arches an eyebrow, a sardonic look on his face. Like he sees through my bluster. “Yup, any time, Adira.”
I slam the door shut and practically throw it in reverse. Get me the fuck outta here. Away from my emotions.
“Be home in twenty,” I say to the Jeep. The drive has gone fast; I listened to angry music at full volume. The message makes the happy send sound as it is sent to Myla.
It pings immediately with a response. The robotic voice reads her reply. “Bitch, you think I haven’t been watching your ass on the tracker? I’m at your house.”
I shake my head gently as I smile. She’s a year older than me, and we’ve always been close.
When mom and dad died, we only got closer.
I had just finished college, and she was in grad school.
We both moved back to our family home, me from Washington and her from her apartment on the other side of the city.
We opened the shop as soon as she was out of grad school, using what money our parents had left us.
She lives above it, and I live in the old house.
We text constantly, often in the form of memes, when we’re not together.
I’m sure the last week has been hard for her. She’s probably been worried sick.
When I pull up in front of “Ellie,” the name my parents gave the Sears home when they bought it back in the 80’s, I sigh in relief.
Myla steps out onto the porch, the railing wrapped in solar fairy lights glowing in the setting sun, holding two very large, very full glasses of wine. “Get the hell in here right now, Iry.”
I smile at the childhood nickname and grab my cane and bag.
She watches me manage the two without moving, because if she came to take my luggage for me, she knows she’d get cussed the fuck out.
And probably swatted with my cane. If I’m using it, I’m struggling, which means I’m probably not in the best mood, so it’s safer to ignore it.
I make it up and she opens my screen door for me.
“Came to air the place out, smelled like unwashed man ass,” she mutters.
“Bullshit,” I say, dropping my bag and turning towards the open kitchen. My favorite local pizza place’s giant deep-dish pizza smothered in olives and mushrooms is open on the counter. “You’re allowed not to be an utter bitch, you know, LaLa?”
She laughs and snatches my bag, taking it to the bathroom where the washer is.
“Ugh, this smells like unwashed man ass too,” she hollers.
I push myself into one of my tall stools at the kitchen counter just as I hear Myla grump, ”Get on the couch. I’ll bring food. I need all the details, hoe.”
I huff as I slide down to the floor and cross to my fluffy couch.
I settle in, and my eyes close, even as I hear the washer start.
It’s been a helluva week.
“So,” my sister demands.
My eyes snap open as I sit upright in shock. My body settles as I realize where I am.
She continues, “Tell me everything.” She pushes a plate of pizza towards me, next to my glass of wine.
I lift the glass to my lips, taking a deep sip even as my brain runs over the last week or so.
“Short version: avoid large gatherings if there are shifters there unless you wanna be driven mad by horniness for a week or so. And don’t breathe a word of any of this to anyone. Oh, and also, I’m buying a wolf-dick toy.”
Myla laughs and takes another sip of wine. “Alright, now the long version.”
I awake the next morning, still exhausted. Myla is on the other side of my big sectional couch, our feet touching. I smile as I sit up. Oh, she did the dishes too. Bless her.
I grab my laptop. Ok, first things first, I gotta get back to Tarot Ink.
Hopefully, my little unintended side-quest of being railed into the ground by a pack of exceedingly hot werewolves didn’t fuck up our brand deal.
I pull up my email and also the general email for the shop. Most is junk mail, go figure, but I spot a few that I star; someone asking for a sponsorship and a local bakery wondering about a partnership.
I’m just pulling up data from our POS system from last week when Myla groans. “Good lord, take a break, Iry. You just got fucked into oblivion, why are you working?”
Without looking up I answer, “What makes you think I’m working and not comparing wolf dildos?”
She sits up and scoots in, eyes wide. “Dammit,” she mutters looking at my screen. “I want one too. Think I could be an omega?”
I look at my red-haired sister, a true fire witch. “I suppose… I promise it’s not as much fun as you might think.”
“Huge cocks, pounded relentlessly, carried around,” she grins, “Sounds fine to me. Even if I do end up with a Daddy kink.”
I swat her with a pillow. “Get up, we need to head to the shop.”
She flops dramatically back down, arm over her face. “Noooooo. Zander has it under control. Let’s order sex toys instead.”