Chapter 22
THE SUN HANGS LOW ON the horizon, beams of early evening sunlight breaking through the trees, casting them and surrounding buildings in darkness. It's my favorite time of day because as night falls, the world grows quieter, winding down for rest. There's a sense of peace about it.
The cottage not far from the main residential area had been cleaned up and prepared to accommodate the Conners. Carter would describe it as a sanctuary. It's where he goes to cool off and spend time alone when those animal instincts start to spiral.
Of the four of us, he's always had a stronger link to that primal side. We chalk it up to him being next in line as second-in-command. We've seen similar traits in Beta Chad over the years. It's the reason the cottage exists, passed down from one Hayes to the next, generation to generation.
I worry that Carter might experience something during their stay leading him to needing the cottage. Though he's better at controlling it and promises he'll find somewhere else to cool off if that happens, I can't help but be concerned.
The last time he truly lost control was two years ago.
A packmate one year our senior thought it was a good idea to poke fun at Nathaniel – Carter's little brother.
It happened at the running track near the gym and while the brothers ignored the jabs, everything went south when the so-called bully deliberately bumped into Carter to get a reaction.
Nathaniel kicked the guy, the guy retaliated, and Carter flew off the handle.
He went ballistic. Had to be restrained by all four leaders and dragged into the basement cell beneath the cottage all the while swearing up and down that he'd tear that guy apart.
The Conners have been through quite an ordeal. They don't need an out-of-control Hayes on the brink of shifting tearing apart the cottage and forcing them out.
I've been assigned to patrol this evening along with my friends. I'm making my rounds when I run into Ash and Carter, and just as I meet up with them, my phone vibrates with an incoming call from Dale.
"Hey," I answer, the two of them falling into step, flanking me on both sides. Behind my back, Carter flicks Ash's ear and Ash punches his arm.
"Hey," Dale replies. "How far are you from the cottage? Jace and his parents just arrived and he's already asking about you."
My chest does a little flutter at that. It's evident he feels strongly about me, yet I can't help the excitement I feel at the mere prospect of seeing him again after a few hours.
"I'm close by. I've got Ash and Carter with me."
"I don't think Jace cares about the rest of us," he replies with a trace of teasing laughter.
"Shut up. I'll be there soon." Dale's laughter comes through on the other side and I end the call, not giving him the chance to tease me more.
I should have teased him to hell and back the day he told us about Laken - not give him advice on how to win him over or gawk because the monolith can move his face.
"What's up?" Carter queries, dodging to the side and ducking low when Asher suddenly lunges at him. I swear, these two never let up. But that's their friendship – a playfully violent display of affection.
"They're here."
"Who? Jace?" Asher chirps, finding his footing and flipping Carter off. He gets a grin and a slap to his hand in response.
"Yeah. They're already at the cottage."
"Let's not keep him waiting then," Carter proclaims. "I haven't seen him since yesterday."
"Only you?" Asher fires.
And then the whole way to the cottage, they're arguing back and forth until we reach the clearing that opens out to the two-floor structure.
The top floor where all the bedrooms are located is completely dark.
The porch light is on, and the door remains open slightly ajar.
Dale sits on the platform, his legs dangling over the edge.
Carter breaks away and shuffles ahead as Ash slips into step beside me. He's quieter now giving me the chance to ask him, "Are you all right?"
His brows wrinkle and his nose scrunches. "What'd you mean?"
I point to the cottage. "We haven't really spoken since you know..."
"We spoke over the weekend," he counters, tucking his hands into the pockets of his sweater.
"You know what I mean."
Asher lets out a deep breath, pausing mid-stride. I stop too, turning to look at him over my shoulder.
"What do you want me to say, Sky? That I'm not exactly thrilled. Do you want me to beg you to leave Jace and choose me?" His words cut deeper than expected. It's not what I want him to do at all.
He deserves to find his own mate, his own epic bond, and with someone who will cherish him the way he deserves.
"I just want to know that you're okay."
Asher nods, a small smile curling his lips.
"I do love you, Sky. I'm just not selfish enough to ask you to betray your bond.
" He pauses and looks ahead. Carter sits beside Dale on the platform, both of them talking quietly while they wait for us.
"Besides, you deserve to be happy and Jace does that for you. "
"You think?"
"Do I think?" he scoffs, shattering tension. "The rest of us unanimously agree. We've never seen you happier."
A chuckle slips out, a little light bulb going off as we continue toward the cottage, closing the distance between us and the others. "So, are you guys here to give your official stamp of approval?"
"Bitch please. He earned that last Friday. We're here for him."
"So, you guys really like him?"
"Like him?" Carter squawks, catching the last bits of our conversation. His and Dale's attention are squared directly on me. "We fucking love him."
"You mean, you," Dale fires.
"Whatever. That's my fucking boy!" Carter exclaims just at the front door swings open.
Jace steps out. The red jersey isn't much larger, fitting his shoulders snugly, the sides accentuating the shape of his waist. His long legs are clad in black jeans, his feet socked. A Batman watch sits on his left wrist.
He looks the perfect combination between handsome and sweet. Color flushes his cheeks when his eyes meet mine and it takes him a moment to find his voice.
"I thought I heard you guys."
"Jace!" Carter erupts, jumping to his feet, closing the distance between him and my mate. He grabs him close, practically plastering Jace to his chest. "I was so worried about you when I heard what happened." He squeezes him tightly, barely budging when Jace tries to fight him off.
"You're squeezing me too much," comes a wheeze.
"Dude, let him breathe," Ash says, hopping onto the platform to push Carter away. "He doesn't need to add asphyxiation to his list of traumas." And then with a smile, he turns to Jace. "How are you holding up?"
Jace shrugs. "It could be worse."
Behind him, Kathryn steps out wearing a warm smile. She links arms with her son, shuffling him to the side away from the middle of the doorway. "Why don't you boys come inside? We bought pizza."
"We're good," I tell her. "You're guests. It's rude to take your food."
Kathryn shakes her head. "There's plenty. This one," she says, tapping Jace's elbow, "made us order enough to feed a small village."
Jace is already looking at me. His cheeks remain that flushed color pink and it takes everything in me not to go over and kiss them if only to see how much harder he can blush.
"Well, if you insist," I say, "we could eat."
"Me too," Asher chirps. He laces his fingers together, a mischievous grin tugging the corners of his mouth. "Did you get any with pineapples?"
"Asshole," Carter mutters as we're led inside.
Kathryn disappears into the kitchen and soon enough returns before we can settle down with disposable plates and two boxes of pizza. She sets it on the small table between the couches along with some napkins and makes another trip into the kitchen. She comes back with drinks.
Carter opens the top box, letting out an audible sigh of relief. Inside in, there's a regular pepperoni pizza with mushrooms added on. No pineapples in sight.
"Jace mentioned you don't like pineapples," Kathryn informs, then cups her hand near her mouth, leaning conspiratorially close to Carter. "I don't like it either. It's a crime against pizza."
Jace takes the spot next to me, popping open a can of Sprite as his mother leaves us to our own. His fingers fidget around the mouth of it. He takes a sip, and then he's back to fidgeting, dancing his fingers along the sides of the can.
"Have you eaten anything today?"
His Adam's apple bobs, his swallow audible. He doesn't look at me when he responds with, "Some sandwiches around lunch."
That was just before the break-in. "And since then?"
Suddenly, the Sprite can is infinitely more interesting. "I haven't had much of an appetite."
Instinctively, I hold out the plate of pizza, gesturing for him to take it. He tilts his head, studying the plate and declines. "You need to eat something."
"I'm not hungry," he protests.
"Will you try? For me?"
The others have gone quiet. They've basically forgotten their food and are watching us like we're in some kind of soap opera. Dale looks away first, to the ceiling, stuffing a bite of pizza into his mouth. Ash and Carter exchange glances but return to their food.
Reluctantly, Jace puts the can down and accepts the plate. He takes small bites, chewing slowly, peeking me from the corner of his eyes. For the next few minutes, he doesn't talk much, only if he's asked something directly, though Asher and Carter are deliberate in their attempts to rope him in.
We stay awhile until I get message from Dad asking me to come home because there's something he needs to talk to me about.
Slipping my phone into my pocket, I lean closer to Jace, hearing the loud thump of his quickening heartbeat.
The others are still talking, and they've managed to successfully bait Dale into their debate about whether the robots from the movie we'd watched over the weekend could win against a giant space robot that could split up into five lions.
"I have to leave," I say to him. "My dad wants to talk to me."
He snaps his gaze to mine. "You're leaving?" As quickly as disappointment shadows his face, it clears away when he reaches for the half-empty Sprite.
"Oh...okay." His shoulders visibly slump, a small pout forming on his lips. The disappointment returns, barely concealed behind the understanding smile he fixes into place. "Okay, then. I guess I'll see you."
He looks the same way he did earlier at the station.
Though he doesn't say it, the longing shines in his eyes.
He doesn't want me to leave. All he really wants is to spend a little time with me.
We've sat next to each other for the better part of an hour but that's not what he had in mind, I realize a little too late.
"You could come with me. We can hang out after," I offer, hoping to the Goddess that he agrees, that he's brave enough to admit what he wants.
"I don't want to intrude."
"It's fine. I'm sure my dad won't mind." Standing up, I offer him my hand. "Come on."
"Heading out for some alone time?" Ash teases. It's followed by him making a horrifying obscene gesture, his thumb and pointer fingers in the shape of an 'O' that he thrusts back and forth in front of his open mouth, his tongue lolling out.
"I-It's not like that," Jace stutters in embarrassment.
Ash winks at him over my shoulder, taking into stride my death glare.
"Sure, it isn't. Yet anyway." He belts out a boisterous laugh at the red coloring Jace's face.
His neck and ears shade the same color and before he's embarrassed more than he already is, I usher him toward the door, pausing to let him slip on his shoes and a jacket against the chilly night air.
I don't have to worry about the Weres on patrol.
They've been instructed to keep a wide berth of the cottage, so Jace or parents aren't startled to find someone lurking within the structure's immediate vicinity.
Training in our Were and wolf forms are temporarily located to a part of the reserve farther away from the residential area.
It would be less likely that the Conners stumble across it, and pups who haven't shifted are kept close to their parents.
We don't need them spooking our guests or vice versa.
We stroll through the woodland, covering the same path we'd taken last Friday, walking along the pavement and strolling past Carter's house.
Outside on the front porch, Beta Chad kneels on the floor, boxing gloves covering his fists.
He's with Nathaniel, the small boy wearing a smaller gloves in blue, diligently listening to what his father is telling him before he launches his fist into the beta's open palm.
It's not strange that Nathaniel, at six years old, is already learning offense and defense.
Most times, the children of a pack's higher ups commence training a few years before other pups their age.
Carter, Dale, and I started training at six years old.
Ash started about three months after his first shift, him being the next Commander and all of that, but mostly, Ash was smaller than the rest of us.
It made him a target to some of the older kids who made fun of his size, saying he would disgrace his father's legacy.
Commander Rick took that personally and put Ash through a rigorous training regimen. Today, he's one of the best upcoming warriors in Marcana and he's hardly lost a fight.
This, however, is something else. Carter's mentioned it before, briefly in conversation. Another reason why he sometimes loses control.
Nathaniel's being bullied at school. He fights back, but his bully is a taller and stronger boy.
My guess? The bullying's gotten bad if Nathaniel is taking his training more seriously.
And I hope he teaches his bully a lesson a two.
"Is Carter's brother getting bullied or something?" Jace asks, following my gaze to where I'm looking as we pass the Hayes's residence.
"Kind of. Why?"
"Most parents don't teach their kids to throw a punch unless it's necessary."
"It's nothing too serious. Just a kid at his school but I think he'll be alright. If Nate doesn't deal with it, I'm sure his dad would."
"I hope so. He seems like a good kid."
At that response, I crack a grin. We're almost halfway to my house when we turn a corner.
"You are so adorable, Conner."
His face turns red. "Why do you have to say things like that?"
Slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer, I whisper into his ear, "I like how red you get when I tease you."
"You're so full of it!"
"You already know, babe."
"Oh my – you really have no shame!" He swats me away, stomping forward in protest, doing his best to maintain relative distance. I follow while he leads the way to my house, chuckling lightly at the blush creeping along the back of his neck.
He tucks his hands into his pockets, gaze pointed down to his sneakers scuffing against pavement.
When we get to the door, I hold it open, doing a mental celebratory dance when his embarrassment deepens.
Quietly, he slips inside, whispering a "Thank you," awkwardly sitting on the couch as if it's his first time in my home.
"I'll be back in a bit. There are drinks in the fridge if you want any."
Heading up the steps to find my father, my keen sense of smell pointing me toward his room at the opposite end of the upper floor from where my room is located, I find him messing with his hair in front of the mirror. He's wearing a black silk shirt tucked into a pair of dark gray pants.
"Where are you going looking all fancy?"
Catching my reflection in the mirror, leaning against the doorjamb, he gives up fixing his hair. "You're here." He turns with a heavy expression – nervous – and it's truly uncharacteristic behavior for Steven Daniels.
He might show his worry.
He'll show his anger and frustration.
He'll tell you to your face you're annoying him.
But nervous? That's not the Steven Daniels I know.
"I've been meaning to tell you something. I don't know how you'll react, so I've been delaying for a while."
Eh?
Dad clears his throat, glances off into blank space. He slips his hands into his pockets to hide the fidgeting, to do something with his hands.
"Dad?"
"I met someone," he blurts. "But before you say anything, if you're not comfortable with me dating, I won't go."
Am I supposed to disagree? Throw a tantrum because after twelve years of working his ass off, of sacrificing a proper social life for my wellbeing, he's finally getting back out there? What's he so afraid of anyhow?
He's the parent, here, and of course, there's no woman who could replace my mother, or the importance she holds in our lives.
But it's good that he's thinking of dating again. That he's found someone he wants to be with.
Not all Weres who are rejected or lose their mates to death gets a second chance. It's not a rare occurrence by any means but not all are so lucky.
Most times, Weres don't cope well with the death of their mate.
If they haven't gone insane, it's due to the existence of a child – an anchor of sorts – who they refocus their attention on.
It gives them new meaning, a reason to keep fighting.
Raising a pup keeps the emotional and mental toll of losing one's mate at bay.
Twelve years ago, I saved my father's life by simply existing.
"Okay," I drawl, dragging out the word like a question. "Who's the lucky lady?"
He blinks, tilts his head with furrowed brows as if he can't believe I'm being so accepting. No, scratch that. He can't believe I'm so mature about this.
"Y – You're okay with it?"
I doesn't matter what I think. As long as he's happy, and this couldn't have come at a better time, too.
If things go smoothly between Jace and I, if he accepts our bond after finding out what I am, we'll eventually start a life together.
The last thing I want is for Dad to spend the remaining years of his life in this house alone, tortured by memories of his late wife and mate, and without me there to look after him, Goddess alone knows what might happen.
He could lose his mind. Slowly and inevitably. He could go insane, become something so far removed from human, and so far from being Were.
The idea that he might succumb to that kind of madness is gut-wrenching.
"As long as she's not looking to snatch a rich husband." I raise an eyebrow as the thought pops into my head. "She is around your age, right?"
His eyebrows shoot up. He's left flabbergasted by the question, but he shakes it off, grabbing a plain gray necktie and turns to mirror as he slips it beneath the collar of his shirt. "Tracey and I have worked together for years."
"That wasn't the question."
Dad rolls his eyes. "Yes, buddy. She's about three years younger than I am."
"Divorced or widowed?"
His forehead crinkles. "I'm sorry. Who's the adult here?
"I'm doing what every loving son should do. Just looking out."
"Yeah?" he replies, chuckling softly. "You know, she has a daughter your age. I think you two are in the same year."
"Does she?"
"Her name's Katy."
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. "Durnst?" I didn't mean for it to sound so bad, but he takes my reaction into stride, nodding the confirmation. Had I not been leaning against the doorframe, I would have faceplanted. "Father, no!"
Dad turns slowly, wide eyes questioning the meaning behind the sound and words that just flew out of my mouth.
What if things go well? What if he and Tracey get married?
That would make Katy Durnst my stepsister and I'd rather shoot myself that be related to that girl in any way.
She's an airhead. Shallow, placing all of her value on vanity and popularity.
She's part of the clique that goes around bullying people at school if they don't conform to some kind of stereotype.
She would disgrace the Daniels' name. My mother, my grandparents would roll over in their graves.
"What. Was. That? Did you do something with Tracey's daughter?"
The insinuation, the accusation of his words – just the thought makes me shudder in violent revulsion.
"I find it highly offensive that you think so lowly of me," I accuse. "I have standards, you know."
He stares at me, skeptical. He doesn't believe a word out of my mouth. He knows I've got a sex life but the horror that he would think I've done anything with the likes of Katy Durnst is a massive blow to my self-esteem. It's going to take a few days to bounce back.
"Fine," I spit in defiance, "don't believe me. But Katy Durnst is a royal pain in the ass and everyone at school knows it. I imagine being associated with her in any way would be a blight."
My father tilts his head. "I swear, sometimes you open your mouth, and it's like listening to your mother."
"Good to know," I reply with a prideful grin. "So, are you planning on coming home tonight? It is a little late at night for a date."
"I'm a grown man, and I have standards – boundaries, too."
"Sure," I drawl, taking a moment to inspect his choice of attire. "Ditch the tie."
"What's wrong with it?" he queries, straightening his shoulders and holding out the ends.
"It's a date. Not a conference. You look like you're about to interrogate that poor woman."
"You truly have a way with words, my child."
"You'll be fine. Jace is waiting for me downstairs."
"How are things going with him? Is he alright after today?" He sits down on the bed to put on his shoes.
"I'm not entirely sure. He hasn't spoken much about it though I think he might still be in shock."
Dad slips on a dark gray suit jacket, straightening out the wrinkles he finds. "It's possible," he says, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves and attaching the pair of customized golden cufflinks in his initials that I gifted him for Father's Day.
"He witnessed a side of you he probably didn't know existed." He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys. "Give him time but if he's here, then he may already be coming around," he assures, patting my shoulder on the way out. "Don't stay up too late. I still want you to write one final tomorrow."
"Egh! You're such a parent, sometimes." He shakes his head as I follow him down the steps and into the living room. Jace hasn't moved from his spot, standing up as we approach.
"Good evening, Mr. Daniels," he greets respectfully. "You look pretty sharp."
"Dad's going on a date," I announce. "With Katy's mom."
Jace frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why do you make it sound so bad? I've met her and she's pretty nice." He turns to Dad. "Well, I'm sure you'll have a good time, Mr. Daniels."
"I'm glad you think so," my father chirps, grinning as if Jace's approval somehow means more than mine. "Unlike party-pooper over here," he jabs, nodding in my direction.
"It doesn't matter if I've never met Tracey. Knowing her daughter is all the proof I need."
"That's not fair," Jace scolds. "It's not so black and white."
Flicking my gaze between them, Dad – who's grinning like he won the lottery – and Jace's slightly judgmental stare, I scoff. "Oh, I see. This is how it's going to be."
"Just pointing out a flaw in your perspective," Jace retorts.
"My perspective is never flawed, thank you."
"Are you sure about that?"
Dad's laughter is quiet, interrupting our back and forth. "I'm going to be late. You boys don't stay up late." He wiggles a reprimanding finger at me. "And you, behave."
With a wave, he slips out the door, the sound of the lock clicking into place lifting the temporary illusion as the tension from earlier slides back into place.
It's just the two of us now, and any number of things can happen.