“No one is disputing that, my dear. However, that male felt something toward you.”
“It’s called hormones and judging by his appearance, he’s a teenager. I doubt he’s old enough to drink in the States. I’m not shacking up with someone so young.”
Eloise glares at me. “My sister should have raised you in Italy, not all around the world like some sort of vagabond.”
I’m not letting that slide by. No way. I glare back at her. Most paranormals may be intimidated by Eloise Verascue, but I’m not one of them. Besides, everything she says to me—every single thing she criticizes—is done out of love. She would throw herself in front of a silver stake for me.
Those thoughts are the ones that keep me from raising my tone to her. “This vagabond, as you put it, has more culture in her pinky than those hoodlum sons of yours.” I have no problem insulting my cousins. Just as they have none doing the same to me. It’s how some of our best fights have started.
“I’m not disputing that,” she states. “However, you could be more refined.”
“I don’t want to be. I am who I am. No one else.”
“Hold on,” Ford cuts in as I enter the room. “Did you just call us hoodlums, cousin?”
I grin. “I did.”
“Nice.” Sol rubs his hands together. “It’s time for the main event.”
“Fate’s sake,” Seth mutters
“Game on!” I yell.
I teleport behind Ford and put my hand around his throat then kick him behind his knees until he buckles to the ground.
3
Ladon
I groan and scrub my hand down my face. “Why am I doing this again?”
“You know Lync better than I do,” Baker states.
“I highly doubt that. He’s your mate.”
“Yes, but you’re his best friend.”
I sigh. “That doesn’t mean I know the answer to your question.”
“I think it does.”
Lync is my best friend. I don’t dispute that. He’s only five years older than I am. He found his mate in Baker when he was twenty. Baker was already part of our pack and when Lync broke down on the side of the road, Baker found him and helped. Fate brought them together.
They’ve had a rough road to get to where they are. Lync was abused as a teenager. His parents told him they didn’t want a gay son. They abused him for years, thinking they could change him into something he wasn’t. He was scared to tell anyone about himself once he ran away from home. Then Baker found him and fully accepted him, including that he's a different kind of shifter. Baker is a wolf and Lync is a polar bear.
“Take him to an island for your anniversary,” I tell Baker. “Just the two of you.”
Lync gets sensory overload in the pack house. Rilee, one of the fae in the pack, had to soundproof their bedroom with her magic so nothing could be heard. It helped Lync a lot. There was also the option to move out of the pack house altogether, but once Lync found a pack willing to accept him, he didn't want to leave. It was a matter of the lesser evil, and he'd take the noise in exchange for safety any day.
“I did that last year,” Baker groans.
“Oh yeah. I forgot.”
Baker isn’t into anything extravagant, but he would buy anything and everything if it made Lync happy. All Lync needs is Baker. And me on occasion.
“Okay, I know this may sound cheesy, but what about something simple?” I ask. “Dinner. A movie. Then go for a run as your animals. Lync doesn't care about what you buy him. He just wants you.”
Baker grins all lovestruck. Those two, like every other mated pair in the pack, are so far gone for each other it’s sickening. I’m also completely jealous.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he states. “We have plenty of room to run here. No one will see us as long as we stay within the boundaries.”
I snort. “Can you imagine the look on some poor hiker’s face if they saw a polar bear and a wolf running side by side out here?”
As a couple in human form, Baker and Lync are striking together. Baker, with his light brown hair that's never tamed. He has muscles that go on for days. Lync is slightly shorter than him with jet-black hair that he pulls back to keep out of his eyes. He’s lean and not nearly as bulky as Baker. But they fit so perfectly. Then they shift and Lync turns into a massive bear while Baker is a black wolf. It's like they switch when they shift.
Baker smiles. “If I didn’t think we’d bring the cops to our neck of the woods, I’d run past the barrier with Lync just to see what would happen.”
“Echo is a state trooper,” I remind him. “He could help there. He may not want to after what some of the others have done. He's had a lot to clean up.”
“You got that right,” Echo says in his deep voice as he strolls into the living room. He’s decked out in his trooper uniform. It’s the one Rilee goes crazy for. I swear he wears it around the house just to see the desire in her eyes.
“He does,” Rilee's voice enters my mind. She winks at me before coming to stand by her mate. Echo’s arm immediately goes around her waist. “Leaving soon?” she asks aloud.
“Yeah, but I’ll wake you when I get home.” He winks.
She smiles up at him. Her ethereal skin isn’t hidden nor are her pointed ears. Rilee never hides who she is unless she has to go out where humans are.
Turning toward Baker, she says, “I like Ladon’s idea. Lync will love whatever you give him.”
Baker nods. “I just want to do something special.”
“Anything you do that puts your attention on your mate is special.”
“You’re right.” Baker stands and stretches. “Ladon, come into town with me. I want to at least buy him a card. He keeps every one I’ve given him since we first got together. They’re in a shoebox under our bed.”
“Awww,” Rilee says. “You two are the cutest. Well, maybe not as cute as Echo and me.”
“We're not cute, baby,” Echo states. “We’re on fire. We blaze bright and hot. Cute is for the wolf and his bear. Passion is for us.”
Baker scoffs. “If you don’t think Lync and I are passionate, you’re way off.”
“I hate to say this, but I can attest to their passion,” I state and avert my eyes. I’ve walked in on them one too many times. One minute, Lync tells me to stop by, and the next, I swing their door open to find Lync with shredded clothes barely hanging on him and Baker devouring him with his mouth.
Everyone laughs but me. Life with paranormals. Never a dull moment.
Baker holds out his hand and I clasp it so he can pull me up off the couch. “Let’s go.”
We make our way out of the house and down the trail that leads to the pack’s garage. It’s more of a parking deck. To say those in the pack like their vehicles is an understatement. Most have more than one. With the ever-changing weather in Pennsylvania, you take out what the environment calls for.
Stopping by his Harley, Baker hands me a helmet then puts his on. He straddles the motorcycle and I do the same, leaning back in the seat with one hand lightly gripping Baker. I’ve ridden countless times with him and Lync, too. Though Lync has a need for speed and rides a Ducati. Baker is a more relaxed rider.