Chapter 21 #2
“I had an older brother,” Foster admits. His hand clenches around his cup, and the familiar pain of loss enters his eyes. I feel it in our bond, the faded remnants of his grief. “He died many years ago.”
Kaitlin nods solemnly and climbs onto her seat to reach over and pat his cheek. “I is sorry you don’t have a brudder anymore. You can share mine.”
We all laugh as she sits back down. “Thanks, Little Princess, but I think I’d prefer to be your brother’s dad than his sibling. Would that be okay? If I were your dad?”
She shrugs and shoves a big piece of her burger into her mouth. “You and Shepherd can be my papas. You’s nicer than my dad.”
Hannah’s shoulders fall, her guilt tangible as she pushes fries around on her plate. I knock my shoulder into hers and grin. “Guess you’re stuck with us now, Wildfire. The little one has claimed us.”
“I suppose I am,” she whispers, smiling shyly back at me.
Now I need to make their place in our pack official.
The background check for Foster’s chosen heat helper sits open on my laptop. Heat Helpers, as a brand, runs fairly thorough checks, but a friend at the FCDA always runs a secondary report. One that is much more thorough and invasive.
Emmanuel Alfaro is a thirty-six-year-old Beta from New York City.
He is one of six children and has a squeaky-clean record.
The worst crimes he’s committed are one speeding ticket and a handful of parking violations.
What’s most interesting is that he works at Soulbound Echo Studios.
The same label Primordial Covenant is signed to.
Grabbing my phone, I swipe through my contacts until I find Nebula’s number.
He answers on the second ring, his gruff voice greeting me.
“How’s Omen?” I ask, a bite to my tone. Yeah, I’m still pissed at their pack for hurting her.
She’s become like a little sister to me over the past few years, which means more to me than the friendship I’ve built with Pack Graves.
I’d choose her over them in a heartbeat.
“She’s getting better. Slowly. We’re taking her to our show in Buffalo at the end of the week. Thought we might stay for the weekend and take her out to do something fun. Get away from all the shit still going on here.”
After Omen’s apartment was nearly broken into, she moved in with their pack.
Partly because they can protect her, but also to help relieve the symptoms of her rejection.
The DAU thought placing her there would hide her from her asshole brother, who suddenly targeted her after she took down their father’s cult.
Unfortunately, threats against her have continued to show up at the Graves’ house.
“Good plan,” I tell Nebula. “Maybe we’ll get a stronger lead on Benjamin and Jacqueline Montgomery’s locations during that time.”
He hums his agreement, but neither of us is truly hopeful. The two of them have evaded every federal agency for over a month now. It’s unlikely they will slip up now.
“What can you tell me about Emmanuel Alfaro?” I ask, jumping to the original reason for our call.
“Manny? He’s our producer at the label. Why?”
I hadn’t realized he was a music producer. That means they’ve worked closely with him, and their opinions have a stronger foundation. Perfect. “He’s signed up for Heat Helpers.”
“And Foster wants him to help with his heat. I have nothing bad to say about him. He’s a great dude.
Very chill, professional. I know little about him outside of work, but I’ve met his sisters once or twice when they came to visit.
Family is important to him, as are bonds.
If you’re asking for my opinion on whether he’d be a good fit for the two of you, my answer is yes. ”
“Thanks, man. Foster’s heat is soon, so we’ll be out of touch, but I’ll leave his phone with Hannah. So Omen can reach her if she needs to talk.”
We end the call, and I open the Heat Helper app to send a message to Manny, requesting his help. He responds rather quickly, agreeing to the terms Foster set. He’s willing to take part sexually, which means my mate won’t have to take a low-dose suppressant.
The heat suite is booked, a heat helper is set up, and Donovan has a DAU agent ready to cover the apartment while we’re gone. All that’s left is choosing a heat gift, and stocking up on supplies.
I’m scrolling through online boutique stores when the bedroom door opens.
A frazzled Foster stumbles in and crawls onto the bed to collapse on top of me.
“Our Beta has gone crazy,” he murmurs into my shirt.
Threading my hands through his hair, I tug until he groans and looks up at me.
“She’s torn all the bedding and pillows out of the guest and living rooms, and she’s washing them. ”
“She’s nesting.” Confusion pulls his lips into a frown, so I explain. “Not the same nesting you do. She’s pregnancy nesting. It’s the period before a baby comes that the mother feels a deep-seated urge to clean and rearrange their space to make sure everything is ready.”
“So this is normal? Wait, how do you even know about that?”
I’m surprised he didn’t know, having worked at the hospital for so long, but I guess he didn’t frequently work with late-term pregnancies. “I’ve been reading.”
He grins, an amused look filling his aquamarine eyes. “You’re so gone for her.”
“And you aren’t?”
“Of course, I am. So fucking gone it’s unreal!” He rolls over and flops onto his back, hand behind his head. “How can we help her?”
Closing my laptop, I set it on the nightstand and lean over to flick my tongue across his nipple. He groans, hips jumping from the attention. Pressing wet kisses up his chest and throat, I bump my nose against his and smile. “Let’s go build a crib.”
“Tease!” he hollers, throwing a pillow at my back when I crawl away and leave him panting and turned on in the bed.
I smirk over my shoulder as I pause in the doorway, hands gripping the top of the frame.
This position stretches all the muscles in my shoulders and arms. It’s one I know has him biting his knuckles.
“Come on, Omega. Our Beta needs us.”