Chapter 4
LOGAN
“Hey dumbass, where’ve you been?”
Killian waltzed into our living room. He was a hot mess, rocking nothing but stained boxers. Sweat dripping off him, covered in grass, and with something that looked like a mushroom sticking out of his hair, he was holding a pink bag all nicely folded in his hand.
I snapped a photo. Pure comedy gold.
“You smell like someone pissed on you.”
“Not piss this time. She wasn’t into it.” Killian grabbed a water bottle, coating his sweat-soaked face. “She was a beast.”
“Oh, yeah?” Callum, the other prick sitting next to me, piped up, eyes on the little box in Killian’s hand. “Did she like it so much she gave you her pads and tampons?”
Killian rolled his eyes, “Nah, dumbass, this is—”
“Her undies you stole? Because that’s the closest thing to action you’re gonna get for weeks?”
“No, Thor, it’s—”
“Your balls after she cut them off? Let’s be real, you’re probably a shit lay.”
Killian flared his nostrils, his wolf fur surfacing over his pecs.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Killian managed to cut us off, snorting with that flat, unimpressed voice of his. “At least I got some action,” he said, flopping down on the other sofa like he’d just won the wereball league and deserved a month-long nap, “which is more than what you’ll get.”
He shot a glare at Callum, who was shoveling cereal into his mouth. Seriously, the guy had a cauldron-sized bowl of the stuff filled with enough milk to drown in.
“Sorry if I’m a gentleman waiting for my perfect mate,” Callum said, trying to sound all innocent while munching away. “Unlike you guys and your tiny cocks.”
I chuckled at his reasoning. Who even waited for their mate these days? Some werewolves would rather skip the whole thing—between traveling and studies, fewer and fewer wolves cared about finding their soulmates anymore. If it happened, good; if it didn’t, equally good.
“I can’t wait for the day,” Callum declared.
“Right, right, we all know you’re a Virgin Mary waiting for your sweet soul-pussy,” Killian drawled, opening his pink bag and peeking inside. His face twisted in disgust.
“No, not for that. That’s the second most anticipated event of my amazing life,” Callum snapped back, shoveling more cereal into his dump of a mouth. “The first will be when you two dickheads have to explain to your unfortunate soulmates why you’ve banged everything that moves—”
“Okay, we get it.” Killian cut off his twin, rolling his eyes.
But Callum wasn’t done. He tossed his spoon into his now-empty bowl and continued, “You two are gonna have no idea what the hell to do with yourselves except drop to your knees and beg them not to reject your sorry, fat asses. And I’ll be there, cheering them on and filming it all.”
I paused, then snickered at the mental image.
“Especially you.” Callum pointed his dripping spoon at Killian, who responded with a solid punch to his shoulder.
And that was how it always started—a loud crash, and Callum and Killian were rolling around on the floor, beating the crap out of each other like two oversized toddlers. The living room table shattered, the third victim of the month.
Werewolves playing wereball had a lot of steam to blow off. When they weren’t on the field, they were taking it out on each other.
Ignoring the two animals, I zeroed in on the cute lunch box that Killian had brought in. Already had my second breakfast, but maybe just a quick look…
I mean, homemade food was homemade food, right? Lately, my inner beast had been hungrier than usual.
A neatly folded piece of paper was stuck on the lid. I unfolded it and narrowed my eyes at the most illegible scrawl I’d ever seen. It had to be a different alphabet. Or some symbolism. I couldn’t understand shit.
When I lifted the lid, my eyebrows hiked up. It looked awful, like it had been thrown together by some blind mermaid. Seaweed, seeds, and some other unidentifiable, rubbery green stuff—a culinary mystery.
What the hell is this person eating?
I held it up to my nose and inhaled deeply. When I exhaled, I released a low growl and took a bite. To my surprise, it was actually pretty good. By the time I’d scarfed down half of it, I was convinced it was the best meal I’d had in ages.
Killian, with a split lip that was already healing, snatched the container out of my hands. “Hey! That was supposed to be for me!”
“Sure, help yourself.” I smirked, draping my arms over the back of the couch.
Kill peeked in. “Dude! You finished almost everything!”
“I’m an animal,” I shrugged, grabbing my phone.
Killian made a pained noise, prompting Callum and I to glance at him.
“This stuff tastes like ass and smells like armpits!”
I burst out laughing. “Weeell, I love it.”
“Let me try.” Callum, never one to miss out on a food experience, grabbed the container from his twin and took a bite. He immediately started coughing, and louder than usual. “Okay, this tastes like a certified hairy, ugly ass.”
“So, who’s the girl from last night?” I grabbed my light bag, tossed in my laptop and water bottle, and zipped it halfway up.
“She was fun.” Killian recovered from the food and perked up, showing a hint of his fangs. “But then, I met the most beautiful girl in the universe!”
“In the universe, hmm?” I glanced over at him.
He took a banana off the counter, peeling it as he followed me to the door, where I stepped into my green sneakers. I’d had to throw away my other pair last night. Fucking talons.
“A goddess, T! You should’ve seen her!” He had that dreamy look in his eyes—the one he got when someone told him no.
I chuckled at his words as I tugged on a gray hoodie and beanie that matched Callum’s.
“You fall for everyone,” I answered, half paying attention, half responding to texts in our wereball group chat.
“No, no, seriously! You should’ve seen her, damn!” Killian fanned himself. “And her two ladies. Oh, man. Motorboating those would send you straight to the moon!”
“Who was she?” Callum asked.
“Don’t really know… Oh, and get this! Sweet pea and the lioness are both from Comet, staying in the same building as some of the players. Can you believe that? I screwed one of their females, and I’m gonna marry another one! They had no clue!”
I frowned, nostrils flaring. “You were in their territory? You know that’s a no-go.”
“No, of course not, man! Just on their campus.”
“Still.”
Those Comet losers. My fists couldn’t wait for the next game—already itching to smash as many of them as possible.
“Did anyone from the wereball team see you?” Callum asked, trailing behind.
“Nah, I bailed out the window before anyone else—besides my sweet pea—could spot me,” Killian said, sounding way too pleased with himself.
The conversation shifted to other stuff—wereball, training, the usual. Yet somehow, as I headed to class, I felt lighter, more content within myself.
At lunch, I pulled out my phone and typed in mushy seaweed recipes. Nothing came close to the mermaid food I’d had that morning. Figures—of course the best thing I’d tasted all year would’ve been cooked by someone I’d never actually met.