5. Nate
NATE
All day at work, I’m preoccupied by thoughts of Cas.
I can’t get the omega out of my mind. He’s taken up residence there, right alongside the other permanent complication in my life.
Speaking of, when I get back home after a long day of trying to avoid whacking my thumb with a hammer every time I picture Cas’s sweet face, I discover that Kato’s hiding something.
His hands, specifically.
How he thinks I won’t notice them staying out of sight under the dining table, I have no clue, because he needs them to eat dinner.
I’m cooking, partly because I’ve been warned not to let Kato near anything involving fire, but mostly because I enjoy the ritual of cooking.
It’s a bit like DIY—you follow the steps and it produces exactly what you want.
If only life were as simple as making a meal, or building a bookcase, or fixing a broken wing mirror. I glance surreptitiously at Kato and Cas. Two shifters so different from one another, and yet…
Declan’s warning sounds in my head and I focus on mashing the potatoes. And if I imagine each one is my pack alpha’s head as I squish them into oblivion, then nobody has to know.
Nothing I cook is particularly impressive, but Kato seems to favour this combination so I figure it’s a good option for tonight, a chance to show off just a little.
Lamb chops, mash, and some fresh veg from the village farmers’ market, along with some of Niall’s homemade mint sauce, picked from the leaves that grow around my fishing cabin.
He always gives me more jars than I know what to do with, as payment of sorts for letting him and Adrian have access to the building whenever they want.
And it’s when I’m dolloping a spoonful of mint sauce onto Kato’s plate that I casually ask, “What did you do to your hands?”
His shoulders sag. “Nate, it’s not a big deal.”
I narrow my eyes. “Kato.”
He glances at Cas across from him, who’s pointedly taking his time chewing a bit of fat and not meeting either of our eyes. I decide enough is enough, and reach under the table, grasping hold of Kato’s right wrist and lifting it firmly but with care.
He grunts and tries to yank his hand back, but I hold fast as I inspect the damage.
The skin across his knuckles is abraded, with a hint of purple bruising.
I sniff, the faintest scent of antiseptic fills my nostrils.
I should have noticed it before, but Kato hadn’t slunk into the kitchen until after I’d started cooking.
At least someone—I’m assuming Cas—was here to patch him up, even if part of me wishes it had been my job instead.
“How,” I demand.
“They deserved it,” Kato mumbles sullenly.
I flex my fingers. “Look at me. Please.”
That’s what makes him wince, not my touch. He lifts his gaze, hazel eyes full of bashful regret. “Seriously, Nate. I fucked up and punched a couple of betas out, but it was for a good reason.”
“What possible reason could you have for punching someone?”
It’s not Kato who answers, though. It’s Cas. “They insulted me,” he says in a small voice.
“What did they say?” I bark.
I feel like a right dickhead when Cas flinches. Too loud, I chastise myself. Too reactive. I’m not angry at him. Either of them. I’m angry at whoever did this. Kato coming back to the house injured isn’t a normal occurrence, and my wolf doesn’t know quite how to respond.
“Sorry,” I say quickly. “I just—I don’t…” Fuck. Words are hard. How can I even begin to explain the way it makes me feel to hear about anyone hurting either of them?
It’s only then that I notice I’m still holding Kato’s wrist. Caressing, more like.
My thumb absently rubs along his pulse point—scent-marking him.
I let his hand drop from my grasp, steeling myself against the urge to scoop it back up again and do something even more obvious, like lick the wound or kiss it better.
“It’s fine,” Cas says. “Kato dealt with them. They won’t be saying anything to me again in a hurry.”
I nod in understanding. I’d have done the same in Kato’s position. Perhaps worse. “Will your uncle have been told?” I ask Kato as I seat myself at the table, picking up my fork in an attempt to act normal.
Kato shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t think I broke any bones. A shift into their wolves and they’ll be as good as new.”
“Let’s hope they don’t say anything.”
“Maybe they’ll think Declan will side with me. Nepo baby privilege,” Kato says through a mouthful of mashed potato.
A small snort of laughter draws our attention. Cas hides his smile behind his glass of water, but it’s no less cute for his obfuscation.
It’s then that I notice how Kato is looking at him, too. He barely even blinks as he stares at Cas, as if he might disappear at any moment. It should make me jealous, the way he goes all soft and googly-eyed. Instead, it makes me feel warm and tingly.
Which is why I need to put a stop to it.
I can’t get close, not how I want to. Pushing Kato away hurts, but I wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing Kato or Cas punished for such a thing. Facing Declan’s wrath isn’t something I’d wager I’d survive a second time.
“We should go to the cabin tomorrow,” I announce. There, we can have some safe time alone.
“To work?” Cas asks. His dark eyes contrast so beautifully with his light hair, and I find myself lost in their fathomless depths—until I notice the pink ribbons wrapped around both his wrists. Once I do, I can’t focus on anything else.
The sight of them gives me far too many ideas of how I could use them for far less innocuous things than decoration.
Around both his wrists, tying them together.
His thighs, spreading them apart so that someone—someone suspiciously Kato-shaped—can crawl between them.
Perhaps even his mouth, gagging him and muffling the sounds he makes.
Because every damn breath he takes is distracting.
It would be better if he could be quiet. Then I might be able to ignore him.
But, seeing as I’m incapable of ignoring Cas or Kato no matter how hard I try, I’m going to try exposure therapy. I’ll be thinking about them every damn minute regardless, and my day off from rebuilding the old barn will be well spent testing my resolve.
“Nathan?” Cas prods.
“No, it’s not where I work. We’ll go up to my fishing cabin,” I tell him.
“And do what?”
“Fish.”
His nose crinkles. “I don’t know if I’ll like fishing. Can’t we go see the ponies again?”
Kato grimaces. “Might be a bit soon after I—” He mimes throwing a punch.
“Yes,” I sigh. “That.” I reach over for Cas’s empty glass and take it to the sink to refill.
“Probably good to clear out for the day. Let things blow over.” I fiddle with the tap, trying to unstick the knob.
It’s been leaking, and I’ve been meaning to fix it but haven’t found the time to go to Inverness and pick one up.
Kato sidles up alongside me, brushing against my arm as he places his own empty glass on the sideboard. I try to ignore how even the tiny connection makes my skin buzz and my mouth go dry.
I don’t know exactly how it happens, but one second I’m twisting the tap, and the next I’m blinking water out of my eyes. Laughter hits my ears first, then they burn in embarrassment when I realise I’ve pulled the handle clean off.
“Oh shit,” Kato says. I stand back, wiping water from my face and blinking to clear my vision. He steers me out of the way and bends down under the sink.
I squint at him, wondering exactly what he’s doing, before being distracted by Cas popping up at my side.
“Here,” he says, and before I can respond he’s leaning up and dabbing a hand towel over my face.
Automatically, I jerk back at the sudden contact, unaccustomed to having someone reach for me so casually.
Anyone other than Kato, that is, who hasn’t met a personal space bubble he doesn’t want to pop.
The hurt look on Cas’s face is enough to have me muttering an immediate apology. Another one. Because apparently that’s all I can do right now—say the wrong words and do the wrong things and like the wrong—
Nope. Not going there. Even though all I want to do is smooth out the unhappy crease that’s formed on Cas’s brow with my fingers. I don’t, of course. I’m not Kato, who acts so familiar with him already. Cas is an unmated omega, so it isn’t right. Not proper, as my o-dad would say.
And that thought doesn’t help when Cas hovers, his hand poised in the air.
“Can I?” he asks softly, and I nod with reluctance.
He touches the towel to my face with gentleness I’m not used to.
Cas is different from the shifters I usually spend time with.
Unlike the pack omegas, there’s a quiet fire within him, hidden under that sweet exterior.
The omegas here are mostly meek little things, all under Declan’s watchful eye.
Adrian’s the only one I would consider more than an acquaintance, and he’s not your stereotypical omega.
He’s bolshier, brasher, and bullheaded enough to ignore Declan’s directive for unmated omegas to steer clear of unattached alphas like me.
The water stops spraying everywhere, thanks to Kato.
I’m not quite sure how he figures it out, given I’ve barely shown him the basics of plumbing.
Before coming here he had no experience with it, but apparently he now knows enough to turn off the water himself.
I half expected my rambling instructions to result in him electrocuting us both.
When I look down, Kato’s still kneeling at my feet.
Closing my eyes against the image does nothing, as it’s seared into my retinas already.
Not that I needed much help imagining us in such a position, but I can feel the heat of his gaze and the proximity of his head.
I could reach out and tangle my fingers in his shaggy tresses, bring his face to my crotch, let him smell me and taste me and—