5. Jeffrey

It was dark.

It was dark.

It was dark.

I was back home. Ten years old and hiding from my demon as I crept down the dark, empty hallway of Lydia's home, my heart in my throat. It had been sixteen hours, four minutes, and fifty-three seconds since she'd locked Blair in the closet again.

Sixteen hours, four minutes, and fifty-three seconds since I'd felt my stomach drop, and watched horrified as she dragged him down the hallway. I'd felt powerless, but that wasn't a new feeling nowadays.

I couldn't do anything.

I'd tried before, and all it had gotten him was more time locked up.

I hated when she did this. I hated it more than I hated anything else. More than I hated this home and its mausoleum-like rooms. Hated it more than my weekend lessons at the hunter lodge. Hated it more than I'd hated my old home, my old parents—the ones who thought I was dead.

The plate in my grip shook as I took a steadying breath, using the training Lydia had given me against her, silent as a specter.

When I reached the hall closet I felt two seconds from throwing up.

This could go so wrong. This could go so, so wrong. But…I couldn't just let him go hungry. Blair was only a year younger than me. Smaller than me—even though when we'd first been taken we were the same size. Still, his stomach was like a cavern. The kid could put away more food than I could—and he wasn't the one with the "extracurricular activities."

He had to be starving.

He had to have been starving for hours .

I hadn't been able to manage much. It'd taken a lot of distractions at dinner, twiddling my thumbs, sneaking rolls and carrots into my pockets, trying to pretend like everything was normal. Like I wasn't dying inside. Like I wasn't completely attuned to the kid who was locked only fifty feet away from where Lydia, her husband, and I sat like a picture-perfect family.

Lydia had asked to hear me play my guitar after dinner.

It had taken every ounce of strength I had in my body not to bolt into my room where I could hide the rolls before she could find out about my deception. Somehow I'd gotten lucky. Because she let me go.

And now…hours later—well after she'd gone to sleep—I was finally able to deliver my gift.

My heart was pounding as I fiddled the key out of my pocket one handed.

It'd been tricky sneaking it out of her room. Especially because I knew for a fact she was a light sleeper. One time, Blair had sneezed too loud, and she'd shown up inside our room at three in the morning—a demoness in a white nightgown.

"Be quiet," was all she'd said.

And Blair and I hadn't dared breathe the rest of the night.

Still though, luck had been on my side. Or maybe it really was my lessons. At least they were good for something, right? Other than giving me nightmares.

As I'd snuck the key into the lock and twisted the door open my palms were sweaty. It was hard to get a good grip on the door, but somehow I managed. The second I'd pulled it open, something settled inside me. Something that had gotten knocked loose the second Blair had been out of my sight.

He sat in the dark, huddled in a sad little ball, his mop of black hair hanging over his face.

I had swallowed the lump in my throat, falling to my knees and pressing into the tight space as much as I could.

"Blair," I'd said as quietly as I could. "I can't let you out."

Blair made a broken sound. He lifted his head, looking at me with these devastated green eyes—and I just…I just wanted to die.

I wanted to die.

I could hardly breathe.

Everything hurt, hurt, hurt.

"I'm sorry." My eyes burned. I'd tried to make my hands stop shaking but they wouldn't listen. Especially as I reached out with my free hand and squeezed Blair's knee tight. It was bony—like mine were. His lips were chapped. Dry.

I should've brought him water.

But who knew how long it would be till she'd let him out to pee. Maybe it was better I hadn't.

"I brought you food." It was hard to get the words out when my throat felt like it was going to close up entirely. "You have to be quiet though." He didn't need the reminder, not really. We both knew about Lydia and her games. But still, I felt better getting the words out. "And you can't make a mess."

Blair nodded and my heart had lurched as I offered him the plate I'd brought. He eyed it like I'd gathered up a gourmet feast, and not a shitty pile of carrots and rolls. He licked his lips. I nearly threw up.

Don't.

Don't, Markus?—

Jeffrey, Jeffrey, Jeffrey—I corrected myself. My new name is Jeffrey .

Blair's hair looked indigo in the moonlight as he latched onto one of the rolls with vigor. He tore through it, careful of crumbs just like I'd begged. There was something wild and ravenous about him. Like he wasn't human at all.

Something had settled inside me as I watched Blair eat. Sure, he was miserable. Heck, so was I. But at least I'd been able to do something about it. However small it was. Three rolls and carrot sticks. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

He clearly thought so too, because the way he was staring at me made me feel like I'd done far more than feed him table scraps.

Blair may not have been my blood brother, but after spending the previous year in hell with him, I felt closer to him than I had with my real brothers. I tried not to think about them often. It just made me feel guilty—a sense of loss so all-encompassing it threatened to choke me.

I tried not to think about the past at all.

I'd learned all it did was make me want to die.

Because we were in this mess because of me.

And while I was getting laptops, an Xbox, and guitars—Blair was getting locked up in closets, beaten with belts, and called enough names I worried he'd start to believe the words were true.

Blair's hands were trembling—almost as much as mine. He didn't try to hide them. Because of course he didn't. As fucked up as we both were, Blair was the braver of the two of us. I'd always envied him for that. He hadn't let Lydia defeat him. Maybe that's why she was so determined to flay him every opportunity she got.

She could see the spark in his eyes.

Blair had been almost through the plate when I spoke again. "I'm sorry," I bit my lip, a raw feeling of inadequacy sitting like a pit in my stomach. "I would've brought more but I had to sneak it into my pockets from my plate." Maybe TMI. Probably shouldn't have told him how exactly I'd managed this.

At least I hadn't told him that I'd stolen the plate we were using a couple weeks ago in fear that this would happen again. Because I was less scared of getting caught with a stolen plate than I was of Lydia finding crumbs on the closet floor.

If she found them, I didn't know what would happen to Blair.

Stop thinking about it.

Don't cry.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Blair nodded, though he'd looked about as depressed as I felt. Guilt ate at me, acidic and heavy. Because it wasn't fair. Here I was—outside—and he was locked up. I knew I wasn't the one that had put him here, but I might as well have.

It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault.

I reached for him, needing his touch probably more than he needed mine. My hand found the back of his neck—the same way Richard used to do to me—and I pulled him tightly into a hug. He was warm, at least. Though he felt so fucking small. His bony shoulder jabbed into my chest but I didn't let him go.

Part of me hoped it would bruise.

I deserved it.

When Blair started to cry I'd nearly lost control myself. He shook. He shook and shook and shook. His normally in-your-face attitude was missing. Like he'd been whittled down to nothing. Don't let her change you, please, please, please— I begged silently, curled around him for as long as I could get away with.

All the while, I kept one ear on the hallway—always aware that we were on borrowed time.

Any moment Lydia could wake up.

Any moment she could find us.

And then where would we be?

Eventually, I'd had to let him go. He clutched at me when I did, and pulling his fingers from my pajamas was the hardest thing I'd ever done. Harder than stealing the key. Harder than my lessons. Harder than dealing with Lydia's attention.

"I'm sorry," I managed, voice rough. "I'm so sorry." His nails bit into my hands as I peeled myself free, carefully sliding out of the closet. "I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Blair didn't hear me. He was too lost in his own tears. He curled up into a little ball again, and I'd carefully slid the plate out into the hall before shutting the closet and locking it up again. This wasn't over. I still needed to return the key to where I'd found it.

I still needed to climb into bed before Lydia discovered I was missing.

But I couldn't leave him.

I couldn't.

I stayed by the door all night long.

I cried.

I couldn't seem to stop.

And all the while, I'd shoved my fist in my mouth and choked on every sound. Terrified that Blair would hear me. Terrified that he'd know I was crying too. Eventually he quieted down, having likely fallen asleep. And still I cried. Though the sobs grew softer, and I was left feeling like an empty husk as I listened to the hallway for threats, my heart sawed in two.

When the sun threatened to rise, I rose from my spot by the door.

I returned the key.

I fell into bed.

And I cried again.

I searched for my dog, just like I told Blair I would.

I searched for him and found jack shit except for a place to fall apart, and apparently a nosy werewolf. To say I'd been surprised to be cornered by my hookup in an alleyway would be the understatement of a century.

But I could admit now, I was really fucking grateful.

Sure it'd been weird at first, but his odd brand of awkward earnestness had quickly won me over. Also…his hugs were kinda fucking awesome. Warm and the right amount of sweaty, his arms tight and greedy, his body solid.

The cheeseburger had helped, but the hug and the laughter he'd caused had helped more. Like medicine injected directly into my veins. But I'd still ended the night alone, dogless, friendless, wishing I'd had the courage to ask Mutt to come home with me.

I quickly became grateful that I hadn't, however, because there was a surprise waiting for me on my welcome mat.

The whole drive home I'd felt eyes on me. They crawled and crawled, coating my body in spiders as the moon sunk between the branches that lined the roads. Soon it would be fall, and half the leaves would rot and fall off.

When I pulled into the parking lot, the crushing sense of loss I felt nearly made me sick. It was well past midnight, and I felt about a thousand years old. Like my eyebags had bags, and my heart weighed a hundred pounds. Exhausted, vision bleary, my movements sluggish, I almost didn't notice the hairy figure sitting on my welcome mat when I trudged up the stairs.

Dusty, fluffy, and happy.

My dog had returned.

"You came back." I paused at the end of the hallway, staring at him, worried I was hallucinating. He took pity on me, crossing the distance between us. When his cold nose bumped against my fingers, the shock was enough to center me.

The dog woofed as if to confirm that he had in fact come back for me.

"You…" I fell to my knees, dropped the pizza box Blair had given me, and wrapped my arms around his neck. "I thought I'd never see you again."

His eyes were blue. Mutt blue.

And my heart fluttered—fluttered—fluttered.

Mutt.

It suited a dog more than it suited a man.

And after spending more time with the werewolf, I had my suspicions that the oddly convenient reappearance of my dog was not a coincidence at all. If I end up being wrong, I'll give him a new name, I decided. But for now, I knew just what to call him.

The dog—Mutt—snuffled at my neck, huffing in big breaths like he'd missed me as much as I'd missed him.

"What the hell happened earlier?" I asked him, my eyes wet. "I thought…"

He pulled back a little, staring at me with those big, sad blue eyes. His tongue flicked out, swiping at my cheeks and I laughed, shoving him off. "Never mind. You're right. Doesn't matter." I sucked in a breath.

"Let's get some rest, bud."

And we did.

Mutt had promised me a vet would show up at my house at eight the next day. And while it felt like it was too good to be true…I chose to believe him. So I didn't book another appointment at the clinic, and instead decided to wait.

If I was being honest…the part of me that was paranoid and young—stuck at nine years old with monsters not only under the bed but walking the streets of my childhood hometown—suspected my late-night suspicions about Mutt-the-dog were correct.

That he was not a dog at all.

But Mutt the werewolf.

Normally…that thought would piss me off. Terrify me. All that. But…we'd been completely alone twice now—four times, if you counted what I suspected was one of his shifted forms—and all he'd done was call me pretty, make me laugh, and get me off.

There were so many dark things in my life.

I didn't want to throw away the only light I'd seen for a long-ass time.

But that didn't mean I wasn't curious to see how this "check up" with Mutt's "vet friend" would go.

Mutt couldn't come—he'd made that clear, looking shady as hell, and not nearly as sneaky as he thought he was.

Which was again, very convenient.

Amused, but still full of trepidation, I sunk my fingers in Mutt-the-dog's fur, stroking through it as I waited for the vet to arrive.

Me

That vet guy is showing up soon

Blair

Fuck yeah. You want me to come over?

Me

Nah. I'm good. I'll let you know how it goes.

Blair

You sure?

Me

Dude. It's just a vet. I'm fine. Not like I'm selling my kidneys or something.

I put my phone away when I heard the knock at the door. "Stay," I commanded Mutt-the-dog, before heading toward the front door with what I hoped was a friendly grin.

It was time to figure out the truth.

The man waiting on the other side of the door when I pushed it open was seriously fucking stunning. He exuded calm, his very energy infecting the air around him as I relaxed and stared up at him—and up—and up—because holy shit, the guy had to be seven feet tall.

I had never met a person that big.

I'd thought Mutt was massive—but fuck, he had nothing on this guy.

His dark skin lit up orange as the light from the complex hallway hit him from behind. His smile was pearly white, and his gold eyes glittered as he shifted his armload over and offered me his now free hand. I shook it, still a little shocked by his size.

"I'm Theo," he said, eyes warm. "It's nice to meet you."

Werewolf. Definitely a fucking werewolf.

I wasn't sure why I was surprised. Of course the only people Mutt knew were werewolves.

"Thanks for coming on such short notice," I said, releasing his hand quickly so I wouldn't look like a total weirdo before shifting to the side to invite him in. "You want a drink or anything?" Holy-shit-he's-big. As he passed by me, I couldn't help but stare.

Mutt-the-dog hopped off the couch, his tail wagging, his head cocked to the side as he stared at the visitor.

"What's his name?" Theo asked curiously, smiling down at the dog as he knelt on the ground—obviously not worried about getting dirty. He was barefoot. I stared at the bare soles of his feet, eyes wide, cheeks a little flushed. I hadn't expected that.

The bare feet.

Maybe it was a werewolf thing?

Or maybe…a Theo thing.

He seemed very down to earth. Perhaps that was part of it.

He was either a really good liar, or simply too fucking chill to give himself away.

"Mutt," I answered automatically. And then I flushed even redder, because even I knew how that sounded.

Shit.

Don't give yourself away.

"Huh," Theo held a hand out, gently stroking along the dog's head. He woofed softly, butting into the palm, his blue eyes warm. I stared at the two of them, something settling inside me as I sucked in a breath.

"He looks like—you know," I shrugged a shoulder, shutting the door behind us, and doing my damndest to force down the need to bolt all five of the locks. He'll think you're a freak. Don't do it. Don't do it.

I did one—and then another.

But was able to force myself not to do the last three.

Though that was difficult.

"He does look like Mutt," Theo agreed simply. "He must've made an impression if you're naming your dog after him." He was gentle as he pulled out his supplies, and I knew jack shit about dogs or exams—or anything like that—but Theo looked like he knew what he was doing.

Mutt didn't seem scared of him either, and that had been my biggest fear if he actually was a dog—and not a werewolf pretending to be one.

"So," I said, chewing on my lip. "Drink?"

The big dog was docile as a bunny now as he let Theo begin his examination. He checked his ears and his fur, carding through it with large, gentle hands. I took a seat on the couch, watching him curiously. "A drink would be nice, yeah." Theo smiled at me, his tone gentle.

Immediately I hopped to my feet and scurried into the kitchen. I had a few orange sodas in my fridge for when Blair came by, so I snagged one of them. And then I paused, stock still—because I could hear Theo talking and I…yep. Okay. I had not been paranoid after all.

All my suspicions were suddenly made reality.

"Mutt. You owe me for this," Theo's voice was soft but amused. "I don't know what—but you definitely owe me."

Mutt whined.

"This is weird, even for us," Theo added with a chuckle. "I get that you want to protect him, but there's gotta be a limit to that."

A growl.

"Fine."

I pushed out of the kitchen, soda in hand, a smile on my face. Offering it to Theo, my heart thumping, I pretended like I hadn't just overheard their entire muttered conversation. I took my seat on the couch again, leaning over the back of it, watching Mutt with curious eyes.

Huh.

So he was…

I mean?—

I'd have to react properly to this later, but for now, I needed to keep my poker face on so neither of them would know what I'd heard.

"So…how do you know Mutt?" I asked, playing dumb. I was curious. Well…more than a little curious.

I could admit I had a bit of a crush.

I mean….

Who the fuck asks for squirrel at a diner ?

Mutt.

That's who.

He was weird, and cute—and he liked to stick his fingers up my butt. So like…that made him kinda perfect? Lying about being a dog, aside.

"He didn't tell you?" Theo arched a dark brow, looking amused.

"Uh. No."

"Not surprised." Theo nodded and then…frustratingly kept silent. He continued to check Mutt-the-dog, and I watched, though my skin was itching for more information. After what felt like a zillion years, Theo finally answered my question. "He's my brother."

"Your brother?" I blinked, surprised.

"One of five pups," Theo hummed, eyes twinkling. "Adopted," he added, looking amused. "Aside from Mutt and Butters."

"Butters?" I squinted. I'd thought the name Mutt was ridiculous. Butters was somehow worse.

"Mhmm," Theo scratched behind Mutt's ears in a way that looked way too familiar, like he'd done it a thousand times, and Mutt woofed good-naturedly, his tail wagging. "Blond as his name suggests."

"I don't mean to be insensitive," I blurted out, fingers slipping into my pocket to play with the guitar pick I kept there. The hard edge dug into the pad of my thumb, soothing me. "But what's up with the names?"

"The names?"

"Yeah." I frowned. "I mean…Mutt and Butters—those are…kinda weird, right?" Fuck, I was not saying that right. "But Theo's a normal name. Is that a wolf thing?"

Theo snorted out a laugh. "Butters and Mutt are the youngest."

"Oh." I blinked, frowning—because that didn't exactly answer the question.

"They're the cutest too," he added, eyes dancing. Mutt-the-dog woofed, baring his teeth when Theo dug his finger in too hard along his ribs. He did not look amused. "When Butters was little he'd zoom around fast as a bullet—looked like a butterball flying around with all that blond fur."

"Right." Huh. So werewolves really did stay in their four-legged forms. I wasn't sure if that was the proper term, but figured I'd have time to figure that out. Might even be something Avery knew about. I'd have to ask him on my next shift at work.

"Plus his name is Buchanan, and that's a mouthful. Hard when you've got fangs especially. Most of us can't manage a full humanskin shift till we're preteens."

Welp. That answered that question.

If this form was called humanskin, I could easily infer that the wolf form was called wolfskin.

I nodded, because that made sense. "And Mutt?" I asked, because realistically I didn't give a fuck about Butters. Not to be rude—but I'd never even met him, and my curiosity was really reserved for his brother.

"Matthew," Theo laughed. "When he was little he had a hard time saying it." He shrugged. "You'd think our parents would've learned with Butters, but they didn't. Besides, Mutt's always preferred his wolfskin. Not much of a talker." Dude talked my ear off every time I was next to him. Huh. "Not sure how Matt got changed to Mutt though. Seems like a more recent development." Theo seemed to eye Mutt-the-dog curiously.

"That's…cute." My heart fluttered, picturing Mutt as a tiny, hairy little werewolf kid.

"Anyway," Theo shrugged, a fond look on his face. He pulled away from Mutt-the-dog, already packing up the kit he'd brought with him.

"So, Mutt…" I wasn't sure how to phrase this, once again getting stuck. "He's not been…" Fuck, this was tricky. "Integrated into society long?" There.

"I dunno if I'd say that. He's plenty integrated back home." Theo shrugged again, rising from the floor with a gentle smile. "Just not in the way human society would expect," he said gently. "It's different."

"Different how?" Fuck, my cheeks were burning. This felt so invasive, but…I just…I just wanted to understand. If I understood better, maybe I'd be able to navigate this easier.

Maybe I could understand him?

"He's a hunter," Theo explained. "Brings food back for the pack. Spends weeks out in the woods. One day he'll be Pack Alpha, but for now, he's content to provide." Mutt-the-fake-dog woofed at Theo, and the large man huffed out an amused smile, folding over and gently stroking his head. "He's a sweetheart," he said to me, not answering my question—but giving me the information I wanted anyway. "But he's stubborn. Dumb too, sometimes."

Mutt-the-dog woofed, and I laughed. I'd never seen him look so disgruntled.

"We're all dumb in our own ways," Theo added, tone softening. "Mutt doesn't understand humans because he's never had to be around them. Me, on the other hand…well, I've had a lot more experience. The pack I was in before Mom and Dad adopted me was full of humans. I spent a lot of time with them. It's how I learned what I know about most things." Like being a vet. Was easy enough to connect the dots.

"A hunter," I repeated, oddly charmed. No wonder why he'd wanted to eat squirrel at the diner. If he spent a lot of time out in the woods he probably ate that shit all the time. Ew.

Seriously.

Ew.

Theo flashed me another smile, and his golden eyes were knowing. Almost like he knew what I'd overheard, and was trying to reassure me. "If you're asking me questions because you wanna know if you can trust him, you can."

My heart ached.

I pressed my thumb hard enough into the guitar pick it made me feel like I was about to bleed. "Right," I said, voice hoarse. "Of course."

"There's a lot of scary things out there," Theo said, his voice low and sweet, like he was talking to a frightened animal. "But Mutt's not one of them."

My heart fluttered, cheeks still flushed as I nodded. I wanted to ask more questions, but it didn't feel appropriate. I'd already been nosy enough. So I cleared my throat. "Is he chipped?" I asked, shifting the conversation back to my dog.

"Nah," Theo replied. I wasn't sure if he'd actually checked, but figured we were past that now. "Healthy looking guy, though," he shrugged. "Nothing to worry about."

"Do you think we need to run blood tests or anything?" I asked, cheeks still hot. "Google said that might be a good idea." Had to keep up pretenses.

"I'll do whatever tests you want me to do," Theo said good-naturedly, taking on a more serious air as his eyes crinkled. "You just say the word."

"Do you think neutering is an option?" I asked, because even though I'd decided to play this by ear, I figured I deserved a little fun along the way.

Theo laughed his ass off. "You wanna snip his balls?" he asked, more than a little amused. I had a feeling he'd said it that way because Mutt wouldn't know what the hell "neutering" was.

The dog's eyes widened, and he barked in alarm.

"Neutering strays is always the best option," Theo hummed, messing with his brother. Mutt barked again, tail between his legs.

"I'll think about it."

I decided I liked Theo.

A lot.

But not as much as I liked Mutt.