"You don't have to tell me." Felix smiled and his face brightened because of it.
"I guess you're used to Frannie's ways, because you grew up with her. I couldn't imagine a small Frannie." He thought about it before an even worse idea popped in his head. "Or, a teen-aged Frannie." Sorell shuddered.
"Just imagine every little-sister stereotype and then multiply it by one billion," Felix said but there was no real malice in his words. He clearly loved his little sister, Frannie, as well as his little brother, Finn. Sorell wondered how his own life would have been different had he grown up in a loving family. "So, this weekend?" Felix prompted after Sorell didn't answer. "At the pack house?"
It wasn't until that moment that Sorell really thought about what Felix was asking. He wanted to come to his birthday party? Isaac might be there. He grimaced. Now, Sorell had a firm deadline for when he had to come up with the balls to try breaking up with Isaac again because there was no way Felix and Isaac could exist in the same room. "Yes, at the pack house. At six."
Felix nodded decisively. "What do you want?"
Sorell frowned. He was pretty sure Felix wasn't asking what Sorell's sex-laced, hazy head wished he was asking. His inner wolf whined, trying to convince Sorell otherwise. What had they been talking about? "You don't have to get me anything. Honestly, it is gift enough that this is my first birthday party that I didn't share with my horrible—" Sorell snapped his mouth shut, shocked at how easily he'd almost spoken about his brother. That was a topic he never crossed with anyone. Ever.
Felix let the slip-up slide without further questions. "I'd heard it was your first party. I'll have to get you something great then, really set up the rest of your life for disappointment."
A laugh bubbled up and out of Sorell's mouth. "That sounds great." He licked his lips and noticed immediately that Felix was looking at his mouth. The laughter dried up instantly. Kiss me! Sorell screamed in his head. Want me. Take me.
Footsteps approached from the way they'd come, from Christian and Derrick's house.
Tall and bulky, with an arrogant, handsome face, Christian's mate and alpha, Derrick approached them. "Good, I caught you," he said to Felix. "The triplets are awake now. Apparently, fifteen-minute naps are the coolest trend in the infant world, so if you want to do that exam now…"
Felix rubbed his earlobe and then the back of his neck. "Okay." He sounded tired. "This way I don't have to come back." He repositioned the strap on his shoulder and moved to follow Derrick before turning abruptly back to Sorell. "See you Saturday, if I don't see you before," he said.
Sorell shrugged like his heart wasn't beating wildly in his chest. He'd never resent innocent babies, but he definitely spent that minute resenting Derrick for busting in and breaking up whatever that moment could have become.
Some time later, Sorell sat on a bar stool in the pack house kitchen. His feet were propped up on the bottom rung of the stool and he cradled his head in his hands, his elbows braced against the counter top of the kitchen island.
The flour he'd retrieved from Christian's house, as well as nearly every other spice and baking ingredient the kitchen contained, sat on the counter in front of him.
Pippen popped up like a culinary ninja, disappearing below the countertop and then reappearing, seamlessly, three feet down with a sprinkling of white powder on his right cheek. He combined the ingredients as if he had the recipe memorized, even though Sorell knew he was experimenting. Pippen's hands flew from measuring cup to ingredient, over mixing bowls of varying shapes, spinning to the refrigerator whenever he needed to grab milk or eggs. Sorell wasn't nervous about what the cake would taste like. Pippen didn't do anything poorly. He was Sorell's best friend and one of the most self-reliant people Sorell knew.
Pippen eyed a burst of powder as it settled over a pan. He never looked up before speaking. "You come home with one more mark and I'll fillet that boyfriend of yours," Pippen said in his soft-spoken tone. The best way Sorell had ever come up with to explain Pippen was that he was gently dangerous and that his threats should be taken at face value.
"I'm breaking it off soon. Later tonight, probably. Definitely before the party."
Pippen nodded once and grabbed a can of powdered cocoa. "Good. For his sake and yours." He furiously whisked the ingredients he'd put in the bowl.
"What are you making again?"
"A double-chocolate, peanut-butter-surprise, swirl cake. This one is just the prototype."
"The prototype? You get this is just my twenty-third birthday, right? It's not anything huge."
"Don't be a dumbass. I know for a fact that you've never had a proper birthday party or a proper cake."
Pippen had been the one thing Sorell wanted to bring with him from his old pack, his old life. At first, Sorell hadn't thought Pippen would actually follow Sorell on his half-cocked plan to hitchhike across America and show up at the door of someone they weren't even sure would take them in. But they did and Finn had and here they were.
Sorell heard someone walking up behind him. He was in a safe place at the pack house and didn't bother turning around to see who it was. This was a new luxury—trust—and it had taken some time for Sorell to learn.
Conner moseyed past him, turned around the corner of the island and swooped his finger up the edge of Pippen's mixing bowl. He slid a batter-covered finger into his mouth.
Sorell gasped and waited for Pippen to slice the offending finger clean off. Sorell had seen Pippen do more to larger men for much lesser offenses. When Pippen only grabbed the bowl and pushed Conner away with his hip, Sorell looked at the two of them through new lenses. How had he not noticed something like this blossoming?
It wasn't that he wasn't happy for Pippen. They'd known each other since their early teen years growing up in Mississippi. Pippen had taught him how to always count your money, even if he was dealing to a lady who looked like his old Sunday-school teacher, and how to spot an undercover cop before he busted him. The two of them had done anything it had taken to make money for their old pack and Sorell attributed his current health and wellness entirely to Pippen's care and instructions. Conner, though, Sorell and Pippen had only just met him the day he'd shown up, out of nowhere, on the pack house steps almost a week after them. None of them knew a lot about his past, but Sorell trusted the shifter he was now. Sorell's wolf also trusted him and that was really saying something,
Having enjoyed the spoils of his crime Conner slunk back out of the kitchen. Even that guy seemed to know when he'd reached his limit.
"That was interesting," Sorell said, setting the bait.
"Shut your dirty shifter mouth," Pippen said, his soft voice as delicate as a knife's edge. But, Sorell saw his friend smile and looked down the direction Conner had just left.
***
Sorell stepped through the entrance to Howling, the bar that belonged to the pack of which Isaac was pack master. The building was a shifter bar in the front and pack house in the back with stairs that led up to safe apartments. Inside the bar was loud, dark, and smoky. But by the time he'd made it only halfway in, every shifter in the place had looked at him at least once. Some of them scowled, doing little to hide their annoyance at his presence.
Sitting at the end of the bar, surrounded by an arrangement of tough-looking shifters was Isaac. He was a beast of a man. Broad, with thick arms, a tapered waist, and huge tree-trunk-like thighs. He spotted Sorell and called him over with a whistle. Sorell's wolf revolted, but he went to him anyway. Once he was close enough Isaac plopped a heavy arm over his shoulders before placing a sloppy kiss on his lips.
In the beginning when it was clear that Felix would never do anything but ignore him and Isaac had been still fighting for the position of pack alpha, Sorell had been proud that Isaac was so unashamed of their relationship. Isaac was truly a damn strong shifter, evident by the fact that he'd remained in control of the rough pack for as long as he had.
Sorell's alpha, Luke, had been the reason why Isaac's pack had expe
rienced so much turbulence. Back when Sorell's pack had been forming, right before Finn had gotten pregnant, Isaac's pack had been led by Lucian. He had been completely insane with an evil streak to match. Luke had killed Lucian to keep Finn safe but had then declined to assume the role of pack master, a role that was automatically provided to him when he'd killed Lucian.
After Luke had declined to lead the other pack chaos had begun as they went through a series of leaders. As soon as one shifter would declare himself alpha, someone stronger and sneakier would come along to eliminate him. But, when the smoke cleared, Isaac had been on top as pack alpha. And, he had wanted Sorell. Sorell had wanted him for that reason alone. But not now.
Felix's kind eyes popped up in his mind. They were so different from Isaac's sharp gaze. Even if things between Felix and Sorell would never amount to more than useless, unrequited love, Sorell didn't feel right staying with Isaac any more.
Isaac's kiss bumped against Sorell's bruise. He had other reasons to end it, too.
"Hey, can we talk?" Sorell murmured, glancing around. "Outside?" He would have preferred to meet up with Isaac on neutral territory, but Isaac hardly ever left the Howling unless it was on official business.
"We can't talk here?" His voice rumbled low and deep.
Sorell made a show of looking around to the gaggle of people who were clearly eavesdropping on every word they uttered. "Not much privacy," he quipped.
"I don't have anything to hide from my pack."
Now that was bullshit. Sorell happened to know there were a few dealings that Isaac had on the side, things that made sure he had a little cushion in case he ever needed it.
Sorell tried very hard not to sigh at the clear show Isaac was putting on for his pack's benefit. "I don't want to hide anything. I just want to be able to talk to you without thirty people hearing it at the same time."
"Fine, we'll go upstairs."
Upstairs, to his room. Not quite the neutral space Sorell wanted, but it would have to do. His palms grew sweaty as he thought about what he was about to do. He chastised himself. Isaac hadn't been that horrible; Sorell had had worse.
Sorell followed behind as Isaac led them back out of the bar and up the narrow stairs that led to his single loft apartment that was such a bachelor pad. The bed was never made, there were always fast-food wrappers and empty alcohol bottles on the couch and coffee table but the huge flat-screen TV hanging from the wall was always in pristine condition.
Sorell stepped through the door and no sooner had the door shut than Isaac launched toward him, his hands at Sorell's waist, his tongue down his throat. Sorell tried to move back, but there was no back. So he slid to the side.
Isaac laughed, but there wasn't any humor in it. "Not actually here for a quickie, then."
"Isaac, I—"
"You know, I got my first shipment from the Jackals."
That got Sorell to stop. The Jackals were a known organized group that operated up and down the West Coast. They dealt in big money, which meant big crime. Not peddling small amounts of drugs that Sorell had grown up doing but moving and manufacturing large quantities. They didn't just deal drugs either. Word was that they had their hands in human trafficking as well as in the illegal gun market.
"Shipment? Of what?"
"Sig Sauers and a couple of cases of ammo. Don't worry," he said, laughing patronizingly when he saw Sorell's shocked expression. "We're just holding on to them for a bit, confusing anyone trying to chase after the shipment and then we'll send them off and on their way. No more than a cog in a well-oiled machine doing its job."
Sorell's blood ran cold. Information like this was dangerous to have. "Why are you telling me this?"
Isaac sat down on the edge of his messy bed. He smiled at Sorell, but there was no humor in it. Definitely no kindness. "I simply want you to keep this in mind, when you tell me whatever the fuck it is that you have to say."
Sorell just barely stopped himself from flinching from the harsh way Isaac cursed. "There are safer ways for you to earn money," Sorell said, still concerned for the man's well-being despite his reason for visiting.
"Don't worry about my methods, babe. You should start worrying about what this all means. The city pack, my pack, we aren't the jumbling herd of dogs we've been for too long. We're established, growing stronger, and creating important contacts." He paused and looked Sorell up and down. "We're forging alliances to help us confront any enemies."
Sorell pressed his back against the door. "I'm not your enemy," Sorell said slowly.
Isaac stood, moving back to Sorell and setting his hand against the door above Sorell's head.
"No, you aren't. Not right now. Not yet. Be careful about what you're about to say."
Sorell tried to smile, his inner wolf snarled. "Isaac, you've got it wrong—"
"So you didn't come up here to break it off?" Isaac snapped.
Sorell took a deep breath. He thought of Pippen and then of Felix. Thinking of Felix gave him the bravery he needed. "Yes, I did. But—"
Isaac slammed his other hand up against the door. "I never touched your pack at first because I was a little appreciative of your alpha for getting rid of Lucian and then fucking off. And then I didn't touch them because you give great head and are just as kinky and fucked up as I am. What reason will I have if that stops?"
"Isaac, I don't have any answers to your questions." He'd known Isaac was possessive and domineering, what alpha wasn't? But he hadn't thought he was petty.
"Do you know how I've kept control for as long as I have, despite all the odds? It's because I know my strengths. You make me stronger and I am unwilling to let that go. If I can't convince you to stay with great sex then I'll convince you because I know where that little pack mother of yours drinks her coffee every morning. What's her name again? The bitch who owns your pack house?"
Sorell didn't answer. Isaac knew her name was Frannie, she was Finn's sister. She was a writer and once her house had filled up with shifters, she'd taken to writing in the neighborhood coffee shop in the mornings. Apparently, Isaac knew that too.
"And your thin little friend, Pippen? He came with you from your old pack, right? That little wisp scares the shit out of me, but how would he handle a dark alley and ten of my guys?"
"Why are you doing this?" Sorell whispered. Isaac leaned in and nuzzled the crook of Sorell's neck. He pulled back and his eyes were full of jealousy. "And what about that fucking nosy doctor, Felix? You think I don't notice how you pant after that?"
Sorell puffed out his chest, using every last ounce of his false bravado. "You'll find someone else and will have no idea why you freaked out so much now."
"I sent someone back to your old pack," Isaac said like he hadn't heard Sorell speak. "They have nothing but really nice things to say about you. They want you back. Do you want to go back to them, Sorell?"
Icy dread was a brick in his gut. "No."
"Then I'll see you at your birthday party, lover, because if you leave me, I'll annihilate your little starter pack. I'll hurt, kill, or threaten every friend you have until you have no choice but to stay with me or go back."
Chapter Two
"Shit," Felix cursed as yet another pencil snapped in two in his grip. He'd gone through nearly a pack of pencils a week for a month now. Each pencil met the same fate, thrown away after snapping into two jagged pieces.
It was the damndest thing. Felix hadn't changed his workout habits or even his protein intake and yet he'd never been stronger. Too strong.
Along with his new strength came less focus and less restraint. His thoughts were constantly straying to Sorell and then he'd imagine the bruise on his youthful face or the ones that formed a pattern across his back that he'd thought Felix hadn't seen. Then Felix would get so angry until—snap—another pencil landed in the wastebasket.
Felix tossed the latest pencil victim away and doubled down his efforts to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him. It wasn't exciting, medical notes about
recent patients and procedures that were unique. There had been a time in his younger years when this sort of information gathering would have thrilled him. Now, he only did it out of habit and because he thought he should. If he ever did wish to get back into the competitive market he'd need to publish again.
After coming back from Zambia, Felix barely had the will to get up, much less put on clothes and play doctor. For a long time after coming back, he hadn't. When he was eventually able to be around friends and family, interacting with them had helped, even if he'd had to lie to everyone about the circumstances around his return. Each day had helped to heal him and had allowed him to feel more like himself, if not a more cautiously controlled version.
Felix felt the dark thoughts creep up the edges of his mind. He blindly reached for his phone, dialing someone, anyone, before the thoughts sucked him under.
"Hello?" a chipper woman's voice answered. His sister. She'd been the last one to call him and the first one in his phone's memory.
"Hey Frannie," Felix said, his throat tight.
"Everything okay?"
Felix wondered if it was too late to pretend there was a bad connection.
His sister was so observant that he almost avoided being around her entirely in the beginning. No doubt she sensed the turbulence in his voice now.
"Yeah, long day is all. I'll let loose tomorrow at the party though." He was momentarily lighter at the thought of seeing Sorell at his birthday party. That guy looked like he needed some levity in his life and Felix was glad Frannie had taken it upon herself to give him some. Felix heard a baby crying in the background. "Is that the world's best niece?"
"She has decided that half-hour naps are perfectly acceptable. Meanwhile, Finn is out with Luke getting decorations for the party, Pippen is at school, Daryl at work, only God knows where Conner is and Sorell is probably with that asshole boyfriend of his again."
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