4. Drew

Chapter four

Drew

I can barely tear my eyes from Sam before he finally retreats into his bedroom.

It's not just how hot he is—though I can admit I wasn't expecting that.

Why didn't I hear him come in?

I've been on edge for months. I've hardly slept through the night since Hale arrived to start negotiating with Dad. And, even as exhausted as I was yesterday, I still didn't sleep well, not being in a new place like this.

It's impossible that I didn't hear the door open. That I didn't hear—or smell —him come in and take a shower.

"Drew?" I drag my attention from Sam's closed door and back to Kieran. He's sprawled across the sofa, watching me speculatively. "You okay?"

I rub a hand over my face, offering him what I hope is a genuine smile. "Just wasn't expecting him to be here when I woke up. Not that—I know he lives here, I just—"

Kieran takes a drink of his tea. "No worries," he says easily. He sets the cup down and shifts up on the sofa. "Come sit."

I do, tentatively, trying to read his mood as I settle. He hasn't woken up this morning and decided I need to go, has he? Does he know about Hale? I should've told him—

Kieran curls his fingers around my wrist, squeezing tight. "Breathe, Drew. We just need to talk something through."

"What is it?"

"I'm planning to invite Lucien over this evening."

Oh. "Okay, I can—I can clear out—" They'll need privacy, and I can find somewhere for one night.

"Listen." Kieran's voice resonates in a different way than our father's. Though the grip he has on my wrist is firm, it never tightens to the point of pain. All my attention is on him, and I nod.

"I'm listening."

"I'm inviting Lucien over because I want the two of you to meet. But I'm inviting Adam and Elle with him. Adam's a good tracker and they need to know what you—what we are."

I swallow hard. I can't help the way fear twists in my belly, suddenly making it hard to breathe again.

Never trust a vampire, son. They'll tear your throat out as soon as they look at you.

No. I know better than that. Jeremiah never hurt me.

Kieran squeezes my wrist before he lets go. Understanding reflects in his eyes, and there's a sympathetic set to his mouth.

"He's still pushing that, huh?"

I shrug. I sit back but don't retreat fully. I don't want him to see the way my hands are trembling.

"Yeah."

"You know you're safe here."

"No, I know," I say. "I trust you."

Kieran's eyes widen. I can't explain it, and it makes little sense, but I do. Something settled in me the moment I finally laid eyes on Kieran again, and despite everything I've been taught, I know I'll be safe meeting them.

If nothing else, Lucien is Kieran's mate. That's important. If he were in a pack, it'd be cause for celebration. That Kieran has found his, even though he has no wolf, and that his mate's a vampire? I know what Dad would think, but to me, it's nothing less than a miracle.

"I want to meet them all," I say and force myself to meet Kieran's gaze. "I do."

Kieran studies my face for a moment. "Okay. If you're uncomfortable at all, let me know. They're part of my life, Drew, but you are as well."

He squeezes my arm again and I nod. "Is there anything else I need to know? About living here, I mean."

Kieran pulls a face and scrubs a hand through the hair on the back of his head. Memories rise, unbidden, and I know he's about to say something he doesn't want to, like every time he'd had to share a toy with me when we were kids.

I smile despite myself.

"So it might be best if you stay inside today. I don't know what the etiquette is, you being here. I think—" He lowers his voice, eyeing Sam's closed door for a second. "I think we're supposed to go see Alpha Deacon, but obviously I didn't do that when I got here, and I'm not sure how we go about it."

My smile slides away, a frown replacing it. "Doesn't anyone know where you're from?"

"Lucien does," Kieran says. He grimaces. "The bond was kind of a giveaway. Pris, obviously. Sam, maybe. I haven't told anyone else. Everyone I work with is human, so they don't know about any of it anyway."

"And how do the vampires here feel about wolves?" I ask, voice trembling.

Panic tightens my chest, but Kieran budges up the sofa and puts one hand firmly on the nape of my neck before he presses his forehead to my cheek.

"Breathe," he murmurs, and between his voice and his scent and his touch, I feel grounded in a way I haven't in months. "It'll be okay."

"Liar."

Kieran snorts. "I am not. I won't let anything happen to you and neither will Lucien, okay? The worst that's going to happen is people will be mad at me for not telling them the truth, which is fair. And it's hardly the worst thing I've done recently."

I look at him out of the corner of my eye. "What was worse?"

He sighs and leans back but doesn't let go of my neck. I'm grateful for that, even if he doesn't know it.

"Let's leave that one for another day, yeah? There's enough on right now as it is."

I chew my lip, but I don't want to push, not right now. "Yeah. Okay."

An alarm sounds just as Kieran opens his mouth, and he bites back whatever he's about to say, swearing instead. "I've gotta go to work."

"I'll be okay here," I say quickly. "I won't go outside, like you said."

Kieran runs a hand over his face. "That sounds like I'm locking you up. Look, I'll—I can take the day off, and—"

"No, it's fine. Go to work. I'll probably take another nap anyway." And worry myself stupid about meeting three vampires later—including the love of your life. No big deal.

"I really should go," he admits, shoulders slumping. "I took time off recently, but… Only if you're sure."

I square my shoulders, making my expression as serious as I can. "I am. I'll just… I dunno, watch TV."

Kieran nods again, clapping me on the shoulder before he heads to his bedroom to get ready. I find myself at a loss for the first time in years. In the pack, there's always something to be done. That doesn't mean we never sneaked away for downtime—Quinn and I used to pretty regularly—but even that felt… purposeful.

Now, the rest of the day stretches ahead of me, empty and distant.

I take my clothes into the bathroom to get showered and dressed, and by the time I re-emerge, Kieran's putting his shoes on by the door.

"It's an overtime shift, so I'll be back just after eight," he says. "I'll bring us something for dinner, too, so don't worry about that. If you want anything, text me. I'll pick it up when I'm done."

"Okay." We talked about his life at some length the night before, and I know he works two jobs. I probably need to find one too, don't I?

I frown. And how am I gonna do that? It's not like I have any qualifications.

When I look up, Kieran is studying me again. I don't ever remember him being so observant, but he must have been—I just never noticed. I expect him to tell me not to worry, or not to leave, but instead, he watches me a moment longer before he speaks.

"It's a lot," he says, "to get used to. I know it is. But if I managed it, I sure as shit know you can."

I swallow. "I can't—I mean, how do you know that?"

"You put up with everything for way longer than I ever managed to," he says easily, even as I flinch. "And we'll help you, you know. Whatever you need."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Okay." He raises a hand in farewell before he leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him.

I turn to look at the sofa, at the backpack on the floor with the handful of belongings I'd known I could safely carry.

He's wrong. I don't know that I'll get used to it. My leaving—I waited too long. The whole time, I knew I should've done something, but I waited around uselessly until it affected me .

I bite back a sound that threatens to rise up in my throat—I don't know if it will emerge as a whimper or a scream—and sit on the sofa, reaching forward for the TV remote on the low coffee table.

My wolf paces, though he seems less restless than me. More… impatient.

I need to not think, and since leaving the flat is out of the question, I need something else to distract me.

With a sigh, I turn on the TV and flick through the channels, stopping only when a familiar refrain plays through the speakers.

Pride and Prejudice.

I throw a guilty glance at Sam's door. I don't care all that much if he judges me for watching it, but maybe I should clear out of the living room? Give him some space?

I shake my head. I'll go if he asks. I let out another heavy sigh and settle back in the cushions, quickly becoming engrossed in the story again.

Sam joins me about an hour later. He says nothing as he curls up in one of the armchairs with his tablet and a sketchbook, and though his glance at the TV is amused, there's nothing hurtful about it.

We're watching the miniseries—my favourite. Well, I am, at least. Sam frowns at his tablet, letting out a frustrated sound before he puts it aside.

"I can turn it off if you want."

Sam looks between me and the TV again. All the frustration bleeds from his features as he smiles. "No, leave it on."

He opens his sketchbook instead, tapping his pencil against his lips before he begins to draw. I can smell the undercurrent of his magic now that I know what I'm looking for, even though he isn't using it right now.

It's a smoky, spicy scent. I want to breathe in deeper, inhale it until I can't smell anything else, but that's rude.

"You watching your show, or are you watching me?"

I meet Sam's eyes for a split second before I flush and jerk my eyes back to the screen. "Sorry."

What am I doing? If I don't get it together, Kieran and Sam won't let me stay here, and then what am I supposed to do? Go back home?

Absolutely not.

On screen, Elizabeth is being rightfully waspish in the face of Darcy's unexpected proposal, but I don't hear the words past the rushing in my ears. When I sneak a look at Sam again, his eyes dart away from mine and back down to his page.

What is he drawing? The room? The show?

Me?

My thoughts circle, beginning to spiral, and I jump when I realise Sam is now standing over me, hand hovering like he's about to reach out.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, I—"

Sam leans forward and his hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing gently. I want to arch into even that little touch, can feel a whine building in the back of my throat, but I force myself to stay still, every muscle tensing.

My wolf rolls over to show its belly, and Sam's eyes glitter like he somehow knows that.

"You don't have to worry so much, y'know," Sam says, then laughs softly. It's like he's laughing at himself. "Not that that helps. But Kieran's not going to throw you out on the street or anything like that. And Lucien's gonna love you. The shit he lets Kieran get away with…"

"Kieran said they've not been together that long."

Sam shrugs and drops onto the sofa next to me. Our sides touch. I exhale a shaky breath.

As soon as Dad struck his deal, I did my best to withdraw from the others, pulling back even more once Hale arrived. It was obvious he'd take any so-called indiscretions on my part out on the other wolves.

We're tactile creatures, though.

Even Quinn commented on how distant I seemed before I left.

That hug I shared with Paxton was the first time I'd intentionally touched anyone in months.

"Yeah, it's only been a few weeks," Sam continues, unaware of my internal plight. "But from what I can tell, mating bonds work fast, right?"

I nod before I catch myself, all the colour draining from my face. My heart thuds against my ribs, mouth gone dry with terror. Sam's grin, while bright, is now a little sly.

"You know—"

"He thinks no one's figured it out," Sam says, nodding. "Which is why I'm not going to burst his bubble. Besides, I can't wait to watch him squirm tonight."

"How long have you known?"

A shadow crosses Sam's face. "I only knew for sure recently, but I've known for a while that he's… different. I get why he kept it to himself. Pretty sure Elle has a good idea of what's going on. Adam—"

Sam flushes, just a little, and I catch the faintest hint of desire coming off him. Kieran hasn't told me much about Adam beyond him being Lucien's turn, which I know makes Adam important to both of them. Sam clears his throat, apparently flustered.

Ah.

There's no point in being disappointed, but I can't help the feeling. Sam's hot, and he smells amazing, and he's going out of his way to be kind…

But I've known him for all of ten minutes, really.

I smile, and he smiles back.

"What're you—What were you doing on your tablet?"

"Oh. Work." Sam shrugs. "I'm a graphic designer. Got stuck on something, though, and the sketching—It helps me work through the blocks."

"That's cool."

"I mostly work online. Commissions and stuff. It's why I'm in the flat so much." He nudges me with his shoulder. "We'll be seeing a lot of each other, I bet."

"Yeah, seems like it."

Oh, I'm totally done for.