14. Fen
Loch and Fen were in the kitchen when Deke arrived back downstairs. He briefly met their gaze as he passed, but continued on without a word, heading into the living room where the others had gathered. They had set themselves up in a strange configuration with Seth squished between San and Saint on the shorter part of the large L-shaped sofa, and Binnie alone on the larger section. Fen had never seen Binnie voluntarily sit so far from his mate.
As Fen watched, it all made sense. Deke didn’t hesitate. He went straight to Binnie, lying down on the sofa, curling into a ball with his head in the older alpha’s lap. Fen swallowed the lump in his throat, blinking back tears as Binnie’s hand cupped Deke’s cheek, his thumb idly stroking the skin there.
Loch plastered himself to Fen’s back, resting his chin on the top of his head as they looked over their pack. The heaviness of their combined sorrow clung to the air, making it feel too thick to breathe.
“You think he’s going to be okay?” Fen whispered.
Loch sighed, his unease making Fen restless. “Eventually, yeah.”
Wolf crept into the room, head down. Usually, he went straight to Seth, but, this time, he hobbled to Deke, flopping down on the floor beneath him with a heavy sigh that matched Loch’s. Sometimes, Wolf seemed like an outward manifestation of the pack’s internal struggles.
Binnie’s fingers pushed upwards into Deke’s still damp hair, petting him just as he would the wolf. Deke’s eyelids closed, and he tipped his head into the touch like he was giving the other alpha more access. Fen was a little surprised that Deke had gone to Binnie and not San or Seth. He’d known them both much longer.
But Binnie had grown quite close to Deke over the last three months. They played together often, rough-housing or watching television or playing video games. They were like two over-caffeinated puppies, always crashing into things then looking contrite. San pretended to be exasperated, but Fen knew he loved it—loved how close the two were.
It occurred to Fen then why Deke had gone to Binnie over anyone else. Nobody knew better than Binnie what it was like to have a father who was as physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive as Deke’s father was. Binnie, like Deke, hadn’t had someone like Josh to act as a buffer like Fen had. Binnie and Deke had both been left to fight for themselves alone.
Fen turned around in Loch’s arms, burying his face in Loch’s chest, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “Why does this keep happening to us?” he asked, voice muffled, letting the thick material of Loch’s shirt absorb the few tears that escaped. “Did we break a mirror or something?”
Loch’s hands cupped the back of Fen’s head, dropping kisses on the top of it like he was a child, but he didn’t answer him. What was there to say? The answer felt pretty obvious. It twisted Fen’s insides just thinking about it.
Why did every little thing feel so hard won? Everything good came from or with something so much worse. It felt like a massive karmic imbalance. Josh died, but Fen found a whole new family. Deke presented, but he presented as an enigma. Ollie found the love of his life but now was carrying a baby that could cost him his life. They found out information about the enigma only to get the news of Deke’s dad’s death.
It just wasn’t right.
“Something just doesn’t feel right about this,” Loch said, practically plucking the words straight from Fen’s head, Loch’s unease only feeding his own. “It feels like a trap.”
Fen mulled over his words as they stood there, wrapped around each other, swaying back and forth like they were dancing, Fen inhaling his mate’s scent, letting it sooth his ragged edges. Finally, he turned his head, resting his ear against Loch’s heart as he asked, “Do you really think Dresden’s people would go this far to try to lure Deke back home? Why? They don’t need his keycard. They know where to find us if they want to. That’s why we live in this fortress of solitude. Besides, we haven’t heard a peep from them in weeks.”
Loch kissed the top of his head once more. “Not Dresden. Deke’s father. Maybe he told them to send a message to Deke, hoping he’d see it and rush home?”
Fen’s eyes widened at the thought. Would Deke’s family be that diabolical? “I guess weirder things have happened.”
Ollie entered the kitchen, glancing at the others in the living room, only speaking when he knew the others couldn’t hear them. He’d clearly heard their conversation as he said, “Nope. He’s definitely dead.”
“What’d you find?” Fen asked.
Ollie held out his phone like an offering. Fen took it, looking down at the small screen.
“Aren’t you going to show us, too?” Deke asked, voice dull. “After all, it is my dad.”
Fen glanced up to see their youngest pack member sitting up, still slumping heavily against Binnie.
The three exchanged glances, then abandoned the kitchen for the living room. Ollie’s sudden distress was sharp in the sadness already hanging in the air. “It’s… It’s a lot. I’m not sure you’re ready to hear this right now.”
Deke stared at his mate with bloodshot eyes. “Is anyone ever ready to hear something like this?”
“Deke’s right,” Binnie said. “I think we just need to hear it all. Rip off the Band-Aid, so to speak.”
Fen still held Ollie’s phone. There was a color photo beside a block of text. He’d never seen Deke’s father, but there was no missing the resemblance. Same hair color, though shot through with silver. Same eye color. He was bulkier than Deke with a slightly squarer jaw. He was attractive, but even in the photo Fen could see he had mean eyes.
“I found Deke’s father’s obituary on the local newspaper site,” Ollie said.
San let out a breath, like he’d been holding it for hours. “So, it’s real? He’s really dead,” he said. The last part wasn’t a question so much as a confirmation.
“Read it,” Deke said, an edge creeping into his tone, like he didn’t want anyone to dare argue with him.
Fen opened his mouth to do as he asked, but then closed it again, the words clotting in his throat. What was wrong with him?
Loch plucked the phone from his hands, giving him a soft smile. “Go sit down, I’ve got this.”
Fen gave a stilted nod, feeling clumsy as he made his way to the couch. Saint lifted the arm not around Seth so Fen could slip beneath it and rest his head on the alpha’s chest. He inhaled that rich buttered rum scent, letting it settle some of the turmoil within. They were safe there. They were all safe and accounted for.
For now.
“You too,” Loch said to Ollie, nodding towards Deke.
Ollie looked for a moment like he would argue, but then seemed to give in, shoulders sagging. He went to sit beside Deke on the sofa, but the young alpha snagged him, pulling him into his lap instead, locking his arms around his middle so he couldn’t escape.
Ollie didn’t fight it, just melted into his hold, resting his head against Deke’s when he hooked his chin over Ollie’s shoulder.
When they were all still, Loch took a deep breath and let it out.
“Able Bas Maren,” he read softly, his voice wrapping around Fen like silk. “It is with a mix of sorrow and reflection that we announce the passing of Able “Dutch” Maren, a figure both known and remembered in our community. Dutch, as he was commonly known, departed from this life on July 20, 2024, at the age of fifty-seven.”
Deke’s nostrils flared, his hands sliding lower to settle on Ollie’s belly. Right over their baby. Fen shivered at the thought. Maybe a baby was just what they needed around there. Babies were a blessing. Babies brought happiness.
Fen shook the thought away as Loch continued, “Dutch was a man of strength and determination?—”
Deke snorted, rolling his eyes, his bitterness burning Fen’s nostrils.
Loch spared him a glance, then continued, “—spending over four decades as a construction foreman. His dedication to his work and his formidable presence on the job site made him a well-known figure in the industry. Despite his tough exterior, Dutch was a man who valued hard work and perseverance above all.”
“Tough exterior?” Deke spit. “Who writes this shit? Do you know how many times my dad almost got arrested on a job because of his temper? How many people he put in the hospital over the years? People fucking hated him.”
Ollie nuzzled his cheek against Deke’s. “I know, baby. Nobody ever tells the truth in these things.”
Ollie nodded for Loch to go on.
“He is survived by his eight sons: Bas, Peter, Daniel, Maxim, Dion, Roan, Joah, and Deacon, most of whom followed in his footsteps, each inheriting his indomitable spirit.”
“Indomitable spirit,” Deke muttered. “That’s a weird way to say shitty personality.”
Loch glanced at Fen, who gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile, before he continued. “Dutch was predeceased by his wife, Eliza Maren. Together, they raised their sons with a strict hand, teaching them to stand strong in the face of life’s challenges.”
Loch paused like he was waiting for Deke’s next outburst, but he said nothing, though they could all see him quietly seething.
“A closed casket memorial service will be held in his honor at St. Michael’s Church, where friends and family will gather to reflect on his life and legacy. Following the service, a private burial will take place for close family members only. In lieu of flowers, the family kindly requests that donations be made to the local construction workers’ union in Dutch’s memory, supporting the trade that was central to his life.”
A few things stood out to Fen, aside from the gross misrepresentation of Dutch Maren’s life and legacy. But one thing in particular made his skin crawl.
“Why a closed casket?” Deke asked, giving voice to Fen’s question before he could do it himself.
Ollie hesitated, anxiety radiating off him in waves. He once more nuzzled his mate before gently saying, “There couldn’t be an open casket because of how he died.”
Deke’s eyes were already swollen, but Fen could smell the baby alpha’s tears as his eyes grew red again. “How did he die?” he asked, voice thick.
Ollie placed his hands over Deke’s on his belly. “We don’t have to talk about that now. There are a lot of other things to discuss.”
“Tell me,” Deke said, tears spilling down his cheeks.
“It’s—It’s not… It’s just going to upset you,” Ollie pleaded.
“More than he already is?” Binnie asked. “Let's just get this over with already.”
Ollie looked conflicted for a long moment, then sighed, telling Loch, “Swipe right.”
Loch couldn’t hide the way his breath hitched as he read whatever he saw on the page.
“What?” Deke asked, hands tightening over Ollie’s belly. “What’s it say?”
Loch met Deke’s watery eyes. “‘Local Alpha Shot in Daylight Execution.’ ”
“Oh,” Deke muttered, tears streaming faster, though he made no effort to wipe them away. Fen wasn’t even sure he knew he was crying.
Fen blinked back his own tears. He couldn’t help it. He was so sad for Deke. He hated that he couldn’t fix it somehow.
Loch shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Do you want me to read it out loud or just let you read it yourself first?”
Deke shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Just read it.”
Loch nodded, almost like he’d been hoping not to have to read the article out loud. “‘The community is reeling after longtime resident Able “Dutch” Maren was fatally shot in an apparent road rage incident on July 20, 2024.”
Deke made a noise like someone had punched him in the solar plexus, his disgust apparent.
Loch just continued on this time, his voice somber. “Witnesses at the red light at Maple and Marvella could only watch in horror as the scene unfolded. According to eyewitnesses, a man dressed in all black stopped his black SUV behind Maren’s vehicle, exited with a gun in hand, walked to the driver’s side door, and shot Maren at point-blank range through his open window before fleeing the scene. Maren was pronounced dead upon arrival at the Washington Trauma Center.
“An intensive investigation is underway, but police have no leads on the perpetrator. Detectives are reviewing CCTV footage, but initial reports indicate the vehicle appeared to use technology to block cameras from capturing the license plate number. Authorities are urging anyone with information to come forward.
“We’ll continue to track this story and provide updates as they become available. The community mourns the loss of Maren, a man whose presence was strongly felt both at home and at work, as they grapple with the senseless violence that took his life.”
“Road rage?” San questioned. “I’m not the only one who thinks that sounds like bullshit, right?”
“What do you mean?” Deke asked. “It seems pretty on-brand for my father.”
“Sure,” Saint said. “Until you look at the details.”
Deke turned bleary eyes to Saint. “Details?”
They were all thinking it, everyone but Deke who was either too young or too distressed to pick up on the red flags littering the article.
“This screams black ops,” Saint said.
Binnie nodded. “Nondescript vehicle, plate blockers, hiding his identity. There was no hesitation. This was a targeted attack. He was killed in broad daylight in front of multiple witnesses, but not one person can remember the license plate number?”
“It wouldn’t matter, anyway,” Ollie said. “That plate is at the bottom of the Potomac by now.”
Deke blinked rapidly, like his brain was fighting to absorb all the information. Finally, he asked, “Why my father? Is this my fault?”
“Of course not,” Ollie said without missing a beat.
It’s my fault. Fen was the one who had dragged him into this nightmare. Anything that happened to any of them since Fen had entered their lives was on him.
“Ollie’s right. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me,” Fen said.
Saint hugged him tighter against him. “Don’t be stupid. Every one of us made the decision to be here.”
The others nodded except Deke, who just looked too exhausted to bother.
“Saint’s right,” Binnie said. “Whatever is happening, it’s not on any one person…except maybe Dresden.”
“Are we sure this is about Dresden?” Seth asked, speaking for the first time. “I mean, it’s probably about Dresden. But…Deke is an enigma. How do we know this isn’t about that?”
“How could it be about that, babe? How would anyone know Deke presented, much less that he’s an enigma?” San asked.
“If they’re following us?” Seth asked. “I mean, we have been making ourselves visible to see if anyone is after us. It’s not like people can’t smell that Deke is an alpha.”
“But what does that have to do with Deke’s father?” Saint asked, bringing his hand up to push his mate’s hair from his eyes.
Seth looked at Deke. “You used to say all the time that your father pushed you harder than your brothers, that he was more upset about your late presentation than anything and he was determined that you were definitely going to be an alpha. Couldn’t he have known more than he said?”
When he finished talking, he looked around at the others like he wanted to see if they thought he was way off base.
“Deke’s father was a mega-douche to him because he was late presenting, and he didn’t have to be a genius to realize, with seven alpha sons, that the eighth one would present as an alpha, too…eventually,” San said.
“I guess,” Seth said, resting his head back on Saint’s chest, close enough for Fen to feel his body heat.
“I think Seth’s theory is worth looking into,” Loch said. “It’s unlikely, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. If we have more than one enemy sniffing around our door, it’s better to know it sooner rather than later.”
“On that note,” Ollie said. “I found something while I was looking through some old journals that someone had transcribed from handwriting to print, probably so nobody had to tax themselves trying to figure out someone’s chicken scratch handwriting while doing research.”
“What’d you find?” Loch asked.
“I found a journal belonging to a Dr. Phillip Shane, PhD. He taught anthropology at the university from 1993-2006.”
“Here? In DC?” Fen asked.
Ollie nodded. “Yeah, he’s moved on to one of the ivys now, but his dissertation topic was rather fascinating. The Evolutionary Legacy of Mythological Shapeshifters: Tracing Genetic Markers and Secondary Genders in Modern Humans.”
“That’s a mouthful,” Binnie muttered.
Seth raised his brows. “Was that even English?”
Ollie smiled. “Sort of? Basically, his thesis involved tracing DNA back through history to see whether we truly did start out as a creature we now consider a myth.”
“Like a werewolf?” Fen asked.
Ollie nodded. “Yeah, kind of. Despite science having proven that we used to be able to shapeshift in some capacity, there’s still a lot we don’t know.”
“And now a bunch of fundamentalists are pushing back,” Loch reminded. “They claim it’s all some kind of propaganda.”
Seth rolled his eyes. “They sure do love to throw that word around.”
Ollie smiled.
“So, what did the journal say?” Fen asked.
“The journal contained a lot of citations from his own thesis paper for an anthropology 301 course called Mythological Origins and Genetic Legacies of Secondary Genders .”
“That sounds like a barrel of laughs,” Saint snarked.
Ollie rolled his eyes.
Ollie would have killed to take a course like that, Fen was certain.
“I used the Wayback Machine and looked up the course catalog from 2006 and, luckily, I found it,” Ollie said. “It describes the course as exploring the intersection of ancient mythologies and contemporary understandings of secondary genders, focusing on the historical and genetic evolution of alpha and omega alleles.”
“I know I’m going to be sorry I asked, but what the hell does that even mean?” San asked.
Ollie shifted restlessly on Deke’s lap. Fen watched as Deke’s hands snuck under Ollie’s hoodie, rubbing his belly. Ollie’s eyelids fluttered for a moment before he melted back against the alpha.
Well, that was interesting.
When the silence stretched, Loch cleared his throat. Ollie startled, like he suddenly remembered they were waiting on him. “Students researched the legends of human-animal shifters to trace how these mythical narratives have shaped modern perceptions of secondary genders.”
“How did they do that, exactly?” Saint asked, sounding almost skeptical.
Ollie shrugged. “According to the catalog, through a combination of anthropological research, genetic studies, and mythological analysis.”
“Ah,” Saint said, sounding bored.
Deke was getting irritated. It could have simply been the day’s events catching up with him, or the topic itself bothering him, but Fen could feel the shift in his mood. They all could.
“You good?” Loch asked him.
Deke shook his head. “No. No, I’m definitely not good. I don’t understand half the shit Ollie just said. Why can’t anyone just speak plainly?”
“Baby…” Ollie started.
“No, don’t baby me. I’m serious. Just tell me what it all means. What does this professor have to do with me? And is it going to affect our baby?”