by Noah Harris
Dylan shrugged. “She must not have thought it was important. Is it that one guy he was dating for a while? The one with the long, black hair?”
“Him? Oh no, they broke up two years ago. I think it was before they graduated college. No, he met his fiancé through his job at the coffee shop.”
Dylan nodded. His sister didn’t seem to be about to give up the name of the fiancé, and truth be told, Dylan didn’t care. If the man were local, then he would probably recognize his face more than his name anyway. Cynthia probably realized that. Dylan had always been better with faces than names anyway. “Do you know if there are … more people coming in from out of town?”
He was trying to be casual, but Cynthia turned to eye him curiously. “Yeah, of course. Both families have relatives flying in from all over, plus close family friends. Why?”
“No reason.” He said, perhaps too quickly. He shrugged. “Just curious.”
His family knew of the nature of his work, but they didn’t know any of the specifics of any of the jobs he’d been on. They knew nothing of his investigation of the Shadow Pack, or of the fact that he had met Blake there. And he didn’t plan on telling them. He didn’t know what his current feelings for the man were, so he’d rather not get his family’s hopes up that he had found a mate.
As if on cue, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Swallowing a sigh, Dylan pulled his phone out and checked the lock screen. It was another message from Blake. Pressing his lips into a frown, he locked the screen again and put his phone back in his pocket, ignoring the next time it buzzed.
After two weeks of complete radio silence, Blake had finally texted him again. Dylan had felt both relieved, overjoyed, anxious, and guilty. Blake had explained that circumstances of his job had forced him into radio silence, which was a perfectly logical excuse given their respective jobs. And even though Dylan still felt his chest flutter when he saw a message from Blake, he couldn’t shake the doubt that had started to set in during those two weeks. So he was mostly ignoring Blake, or trying to at least. He wanted to give himself space to think. The problem was, he didn’t want to think about it either. Life was so much simpler when he didn’t get wrapped up in relationships. He exhaled deeply. He’d respond to him eventually.
“Was there anyone, in particular, you were hoping to see?” His sister asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.
Dylan blinked and glanced at her. “No,” He said quickly, clearing his throat when she looked at him curiously. “No,” He repeated, sitting up straighter. “I was just curious. I haven’t seen anyone in years.” His family had come to visit him a few times, and he had met them for a few vacations. But he had only returned to his hometown once since he left, and he hadn’t seen many people besides his family.
He wiped his palms off on his jeans. He was hoping Blake wouldn’t come home for this. He didn’t know why he would. From the sound of it, he had recently been wrapped up in a job, and might still be. Plus, from what he had gathered, Blake was a lot like Dylan in the fact that they hadn’t really visited since they had gotten out. The odds that they would both come back for this wedding were slim to none.
“Do you have any painkillers?” He asked, switching the subject. He had a killer headache, his back hurt, and his stomach was starting to cramp, no doubt from the airline food.
“Of course. Glove compartment.”
“Thanks.” He mumbled, getting out the painkillers and swallowing them down with a sip of her water.
Dylan was silent as they neared town. The trees and fields gave way to familiar buildings and signs. He was surprised to find it more developed than he was used to. There was a shopping center where a field used to be and a movie theater where there used to be abandoned warehouses. He made a comment about it, and his sister said some of it had been there for years. He grunted in acknowledgment. He should have known. Of course, a town would grow. He just hadn’t expected it to be his town. His town would always be small and insignificant in his eyes. It never changed.
His parents’ house was just as he remembered it, and that was comforting. He climbed out of the car and hurried around to help his sister out. She took his hand and smiled gratefully.
“When’s the baby due?”
“In a couple of months.” She said, straightening her back and stretching.
Dylan got his things from the car and the two of the headed for the door. His parents had heard the car and were waiting for him. They welcomed him back with open arms. They looked older than he remembered, and that worried him a little, but otherwise they were the same. His mom looked him over from head to toe with a critical eye. She made comments about his health and how much he had grown, pausing to point out his arm muscles as Cynthia had.
Dylan rolled his eyes and sighed, but despite his dry tone he couldn’t stop the small smile that curved his lips. “That’s what happens when you have daily training, ma.”
His dad waited until his mom was done and then stepped forward for a hug and to clasp forearms. He patted Dylan’s shoulder, nodding with approval. His memories of his dad had always been that he was a fairly large alpha. And while he was a sizable man, he didn’t seem nearly as large to Dylan now as he did when Dylan was small and scrawny. His dad had always taught him that just because he was an omega didn’t mean he couldn’t carry himself like an alpha. And that was a lesson he appreciated and held close to this day.
Dinner was surprisingly good. He hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in such a long time. Not one like this, anyway. Everything tasted of familiarity and home, and it was served on the plates that he remembered from his childhood. Not much had changed in his parent’s house. His brother was away at work, and wouldn’t get home until late. His sister stayed for a while after dinner but then left to return to her apartment. Dylan went to bed early that night, collapsing on the guest bed in his old bedroom.
He fell asleep without checking his phone.
Chapter Two
“What’s the occasion?” Dylan asked as he helped his brother carry a cooler full of soda and beer down the street.
His mother blinked, looking at him blankly. “Why … it’s Friday.” She said as if that were all the explanation required. She carried a tray full of cupcakes.
“Mom, the block parties started after he left,” Cynthia said, helpfully. She wasn’t carrying anything, but no one expected her to. Her fiancé, Jared, had his arm thrown over her shoulders, and he carried a bag of paper plates and plastic cups.
Their mom blinked and grinned, shaking her head. “Oh, that’s right,” She said, chuckling. “Oh my, how the time flies.”
“It’s really just an excuse for everyone to get together and get drunk and gossip,” Ean said in a low voice, meant only for Dylan.
Dylan glanced at his younger brother, a small smile curving his lips. “Since when have they needed a party to do that?” They both snickered, ignoring their mom’s glare and frown.
“You be on your best behavior, young man.” She said, looking pointedly at Ean. She glanced at Dylan, still frowning. “Last time he tried to start a food fight among the children.”
Dylan glanced at Ean, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Did it work?” He asked, one eyebrow raised.
“For about five minutes, until they were stopped.”
“Nice.”
“Dylan, don’t encourage him.” Their mother sighed. “I don’t believe I have to tell you to be on your best behavior. As a soldier, I believe you have enough self-restraint and respect not to embarrass yourself or this family.”
Dylan had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, mom, I’m not fifteen anymore.”
“Good. These people haven’t seen you in years. Be a good boy and socialize.”
Dylan swallowed his groan of protest. He had never been a fan of socializing, especially with strangers. Because although he had grown up in this neighborhood, these people were as good as strangers. He was fairly certain the entirety of this particular neighborhood was werewolves, a
nd they were all members of the pack. As such, it was easy to block off a couple of streets for the block party. Apparently it was a weekly tradition for the pack to get together. He was a little glad it had started after he had left.
He and his brother followed his mom to the tables that were set up along the sidewalk and set the cooler down where she told them to. His dad was already there, standing with a few others at the line of grills cooking food. He looked around, but he barely recognized anyone. They were all so familiar, and yet so strange. Especially everyone his age. He hadn’t seen them since they were teenagers. They were all grown up now, and some had aged better than others. The children were now teenagers or young adults. The adults were now old and showing signs of gray.
The first hour after his arrival was a flurry of faces, greetings, and small talk. He expected everyone to recognize him. Even though he knew he had changed so much and had been gone for so long, it was here that he felt like nothing had changed. Still, no one seemed to recognize him until he was in the context of his family, then the pieces started to fit together, and he could see people connecting the dots. His mom took him firmly by the arm and paraded him around, showing him off to anyone who looked curious and several who didn’t. He met people he remembered and people he had forgotten he’d known. Everyone had aged too much for his liking. It made him feel old to see how much everyone had grown since he was young. Likewise, they all seemed astounded at how much he had grown. No longer an awkward and scrawny teenager, they had a hard time believing that the man in front of them was that boy from so long ago.
His parents were proud of him, that much he could tell. His mom lifted her chin high, smiling as her eyes sparkled with pride as everyone ogled her eldest son. He had been one of the few who had escaped the small town syndrome. Not only that, he was a highly trained Navy SEAL. It was all incredibly adventurous for all the werewolves who barely left their hometown. When his mom was done parading him around, it was his dad’s turn. His dad didn’t parade him as his mom had, but led him to the group of men who hovered near the food and grills, most of whom had a beer in their hands. Most of them were alphas, and when his dad brought him to them, Dylan could see the way they were all sizing him up. He knew they found it hard to believe he was actually an omega. Their memories of him reflected his omega status a lot better than the man they saw before him.
Dylan sipped a bottle of water, smiling to himself as he watched the conflicting emotions caused by him defying expectations.
As amusing as it was, it was only that way for a short time. It soon became obnoxious and tiring. All the faces and names he had been reintroduced to began to blur together. He doubted he’d remember any of the introductions his mom had made. He was tired of the same questions and the same comments, over and over. They all said he had grown so much. They all made a joke that they were feeding him well. They all asked what he did on missions, to which he said he couldn’t tell them, and they would make a joke of ‘or else you’ll have to kill us, right?’ Every line, every joke, was delivered with the same attitude of them being the first to ever think to say such a thing. They repeated jokes while grinning and puffing their chests out like they were the most creative and hilarious comedians of all time. Quite frankly, it was tiresome, and it was starting to get on Dylan’s nerves.
HIs sister, however, was an angel. She seemed to see Dylan’s struggle to stay sane and polite and came to his rescue. She came by and stole him away from their dad, claiming that she needed his help. She then dragged him toward one of the houses at the center of the block party. She couldn’t move very fast or dodge around people, but she expertly deflected questions and people who tried to stop them.
They ducked into one of the houses. Dylan wasn’t sure whose house it was, but it, along with several others, was open to everyone for bathroom and kitchen use. His mom had mentioned that the block parties moved around the neighborhood, so everyone had the chance to host. Dylan couldn’t understand why anyone would want everyone coming and going through their homes, but apparently it was a privilege that everyone looked forward to.
The kitchen was currently empty, and Cynthia sat down heavily in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. She sighed, leaning back and stretching her feet out. “Never get pregnant, Dylan.” She said, glancing up at him. “It’s killer on your feet.”
He smirked. “I don’t plan on it.” He sat in a chair next to her and turned it to face her. He carefully pulled one of her feet into his lap. He took off her shoe and began to massage the sole of her foot, digging in his thumbs.
She sighed, slouched a little more, and tilted her head back, eyes closing. Her hands rested instinctively on her stomach. “Oh my god, you’re a fucking saint, Dylan.”
His smirk widened. “It’s the least I can do after you rescued me.”
She lifted her head and opened her eyes, returning his smirk. “You looked like you needed help.”
“I did. I think I met the whole pack twice, and I don’t remember any of them.”
“They’re just proud of you, you know. Mom and dad. They wanna show you off. They did the same thing to me when this happened.” She waved a hand, indicating her rounded belly.
“I know,” Dylan set her foot down and lifted the other, starting on that one. “How long do you think until someone comes in?”
As he said it, they heard the door to the house open and some voices filtered back to where they sat. Cynthia chuckled. “Not that long, apparently.” She tilted her head, her smile fading for just a moment while she listened. “It’s Aunt Maryam and Alex.”
Dylan listened, but he didn’t recognize the voices. Of course, it had been years since he had spoken to either one of them, so that wasn’t too surprising. He’d have to take Cynthia’s word for it.
“We’re almost out of ice! Already! Does no one know how to prepare for a party, anymore?”
“There’s plenty of ice, ma.” Alex sounded exasperated already.
“For now, maybe, but in an hour? Mark my words, Alex, we won’t have ice. And by then no one will want to go out and get any!”
“Then go out and get some ice yourself.”
“My heavens! No! I need to be here in case someone needs me. These parties could barely run without me. I swear, most of our pack is useless when it comes to such things! Plus I need to ask about a few details for your wedding. No, I’m much too busy.”
He sighed just as they entered the kitchen. They both paused in the doorway, surprised to find it occupied and even more surprised to see Dylan. He was partially turned in his chair and lifted a hand in greeting. “Hi, Aunt Maryam, Alex.”
“Dylan! Dear! You made it!” She hurried over to him and gave him a quick hug. “Your parents said you were coming, but you never know for sure with that fancy job of yours.”
“You never know.” He agreed.
“My word, look at you! They sure feed you right in the army!” She said, putting her hands on his shoulders and holding him at arms length as she looked him over.
“It’s the Navy SEALS, Aunt Maryam.” Cynthia corrected.
The woman waved a hand, rolling her eyes. “Same thing, dear. Same thing.”
Dylan clenched his teeth together until a muscle ticked in his jaw. Aunt Maryam was just one of many who had made such comments that day, and he was getting tired of them. Once again, Cynthia came to his rescue.
“Hey Aunt Maryam, I think I saw them keeping extra ice in some coolers in the Barston’s garage.”
She perked up immediately. “Oh! I’ll go check that right away! Thank you, dear. You kids play nice.” She bustled out of the room and a few seconds later they heard the door close.
Alex was half turned to watch her go. He sighed. “Sorry about that. She’s been high strung lately with all the wedding planning.”
Dylan smirked at Alex. “Alex, she’s always been high strung.”
He smiled and chuckled. “True.”
Dylan turned back to Cynthia, one eyebrow raised. “Is the
re really ice in the Barston’s garage?”
Cynthia shrugged, a wicked grin spreading across her lips. “I don’t know. But it’ll keep her busy for hours as she tries to find it.”
“You’re evil!” Alex said, grinning.
Cynthia leaned back, patting her belly. “I try.”
Alex came further into the room, hovering near them. “I’m glad you made it, Dylan.” He said, suddenly sounding shy.
Dylan turned to eye him curiously. “Me too. It just happened to fall at a time where I had paid leave.” Not entirely true, but it was true enough that the timing had been perfect.
“It’s just …” He rubbed his arm with one hand, looking off to the side. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to come …”
Dylan tried to smile reassuringly. “And why wouldn’t I? You’re the first of the cousins to get married,” He glanced at his sister. “Officially, anyway.” She waved him off, rolling her eyes.
“So … you don’t mind?”
Dylan raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips. “Of course not.” Some people had the notion that the older ones should get married first, and Alex was one of the younger cousins. Dylan had never understood that mentality. It was only an old world tradition, and there was no way he’d be offended by it. That had to be what Alex was referring to because he wasn’t sure why else he would mind. Unless Alex meant that his wedding was interrupting Dylan’s sudden homecoming, in which case, Dylan didn’t mind either. He didn’t like the attention on him anyways, so this was a better time than most.
Alex’s face immediately brightened, and he grinned. “Oh, thank you, Dylan!” He hurried forward and threw his arms around Dylan’s neck, squeezing him tight. It took him by surprise, so he hesitated a moment before hugging him back.
“Um, no problem.” He said, awkwardly patting Alex’s back.
Alex was several years younger than himself, roughly around his brother’s age. They used to play when they were kids, but they drifted apart as they grew older and Dylan grew into his teen years. Alex had always been closer to Ean than he had been with Dylan, but he and Dylan had never disliked each other. Alex was a little shorter than himself and built thin and delicate. He was a pretty boy omega, completing the stereotype by being a little oblivious, easy to confuse, and generally having an optimistic attitude. Alex wore every emotion on his sleeve and felt everything strongly, reacting to it all. He wasn’t that empty headed, but he was definitely easily distracted. Overall, he was fairly difficult to deal with for long periods of time, but he was family.