Chapter 4

Four

My first thought, seeing the Alpha of the Midnight Pack standing in the now torn doorway of The Greasy Spoon is:

Damn, the Alpha is hot when he’s pissed.

My second thought is:

Oh shit, the Alpha is pissed.

Cal stalks into the diner and I think the narrow building shrinks in size because he looks like he takes up at least half the room.

His wolf eyes flash bright yellow with a pulsing ring of black around his irises.

“Heyyyyy, Cal,” I start, but Sam slips off the stool at the diner counter and squares her shoulders and says, “What we do is none of your business.”

Cal’s eyes widen with rage as his hands clench into fists. “You put yourself at risk by being out here and?—”

“You don’t get to boss me around!” Sam jams her finger in his direction. “I’m not promised to you or the pack!”

All of the tendons and veins in Cal’s forearms bulge beneath his skin. “We’re at war and you could get hurt.”

“Like you care.”

“I fucking care more than I?—”

I step between them and face my best friend. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“No need,” Sam says as she narrows her eyes at him. “I already know he’s a gigantic egotistical asshole.”

“Okay, but listen. Sam. Look at me.”

She finally focuses her gaze on my face, a pinch of confusion between her blonde brows.

“It’s about you and Cal, and?—”

“Maybe now isn’t the time, Jess,” Cal says behind me.

“Jess?” Sam’s frown sharpens to a scowl. “Jess?! She’s Your Royal Highness to you, jerk-face.”

“Sam!”

She snaps back to me.

“You’re Cal’s fated mate.”

I see the moment Sam’s brain stops working. There’s a dead look in her eyes. She’s staring right at me but I don’t think she’s seeing me.

Cal takes a step closer.

And then Sam hangs her head back and laughs out loud.

She laughs and laughs until tears stream down her face.

“Tell Jessie that’s bullshit,” she says through the unhinged tears.

Cal sighs.

“Tell her.”

I’m not sure where Stanley and Judy disappeared to, but they are noticeably absent, the fryer quiet, the grill cold.

“Sam,” Cal says.

“Tell her!”

“I can’t!” he shouts back. “I won’t.”

Sam clenches her teeth so hard I hear her molars grit together. She reaches across the counter and grabs a canister of sugar and lobs it at Cal.

“Sam!” I yell, but the sugar never lands.

Instead, it’s caught mid-air by someone’s outstretched hand.

Bran.

My heart thuds against the back of my tongue.

The diner goes eerily silent.

It’s Bran that breaks it.

“Violence is a tool,” he says in that cool, calm, detached tone of voice. “It should never be a reaction. That’s a lesson the Alpha’s mate needs to learn sooner rather than later.”

“I’m not his mate,” Sam argues, but some of the heat has left her voice.

“I’m quite sure the word ‘fated’ is not one you can fight,” Bran points out.

Sam huffs and then crosses her arms over her chest.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” I say. “I just found out. I thought you should know.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She narrows her eyes at Cal again. “I’ll never agree to it.”

Cal growls. Literally growls .

Bran edges closer to Sam and me and faces the Alpha. “You need to get control of that.”

“I am!” Cal says as his teeth sharpen, not unlike Bran’s fangs.

“Why don’t you return to the Pack,” Bran says. “I’ll make sure Sam gets to where she’s going.”

Cal’s nostrils flare as he looks over top of us to Sam. Pain etches itself into the fine lines around his golden eyes. Not physical pain. This is an ache that does not bleed.

He doesn’t want to let Sam out of his sight.

“Let me take you home,” he says to her, now with more control. His gaze is locked on Sam and only Sam. “ Please .”

I watch several emotions pass over my best friend’s face. Regret. Heartbreak. Worry. Fear. Hunger.

I think Sam has been keeping some things from me, namely how she really feels about the Alpha.

I mean, I totally believe she believes she hates him and maybe in some ways she does, but the hate is not complete. There are cracks in that hardened exterior and they are starting to show.

“Fine.” She makes her way for the door. “But don’t talk to me.”

“As if I have anything to say to you,” Cal says.

“Jerk,” Sam says.

“Brat,” Cal says and follows her through the wreckage of the front door.

“That’s either going to be a match made in Heaven or a train wreck,” I say as I watch them leave.

Bran sets the canister of sugar on the counter and comes over to me. “You?—”

“Oh, don’t start with me too.”

“I owe you an apology,” he finishes.

That pulls me to a stop.

“Umm…really? You owe me an apology?”

“Don’t get cocky about it,” he says.

“Me? Cocky? Never.”

He takes my hand in his and brings my wrist to his nose. He inhales, his eyes slipping closed. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression you should be worried about me or about us.” He opens his eyes again and there is the hint of sharp fangs in his mouth. “We have a lot to figure out and much to discuss, but I don’t want you worried about us.

“We stand side by side,” he adds. “Partners. We will not hide from one another. Promise me, Mouse.”

I lick my lips as his mouth drags closer to the thumping pulse point in my wrist. “Tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“Are you afraid of me?”

Dropping my arm, he takes another step closer, closing the final gap between us. His thumb drags over my bottom lip. “I trust that this mouth will do only what it needs to do. No more and no less.”

My tongue darts out to meet him and his eyes flare to life.

“But I need you to trust me, Mouse.”

“I do.”

“No. I mean it. You may have more power than either of us expected, but I have centuries worth of experience.”

I roll my eyes at him. “That feels very close to mansplaining to me.”

His expression doesn’t change. If anything, he grows more serious. “I need you to trust me.”

I tip my head to look up at him, his eyes starting to bleed to that bright gold. “Okay. But I need you to let me make mistakes.”

I hear his teeth clench. Loudly .

“That’s the promise I need from you.”

“Mouse—”

“I can’t become who I’m supposed to become by being coddled.”

His eyes close again and the breath he takes is long and deep.

“Please, Bran.”

When he meets my gaze again, there’s defeat in his eyes. He knows I’m right.

I’m not sure where any of this is going to take us. I’m not even sure what comes after we walk out that door. But I do want us on the same side, on even ground. But I don’t want to be afraid of acting and I sure as hell don’t want to ask for permission.

Bran’s grip on my wrist slides up my arm, and then he takes my hand in his again and brings my knuckles to his lips. He plants a soft kiss there. “You have my promise that I will try very hard to allow you to make stupid mistakes.”

I laugh. “That’s not a promise!”

“It’s all you’ll get from me.”

“Fine. Then I promise to mostly trust you.”

He yanks me into him and wraps his arms around my waist. “I love you, and you are a menace.”

“I love you too, you asshole.”

He brings his mouth down on mine and breathes out, almost a sigh.

Now when we kiss, it’s an act that feels like home.

“Oh, little mouse,” he says when he pulls away just enough to speak, “I think I need to take you home and to our bed.”

I grind against him as his hands sink to my hips. “I agree.”

Someone clears their throat behind us.

I jolt away from Bran, embarrassed. I totally forgot we were in the diner with Stanley and Judy.

“What is it, old man?” Bran asks, an edge of warning in his voice.

“We have a problem.”

“For fuck's sake,” Bran says. “When don’t we have a problem?”

“What is it?” I ask quickly.

Stanley nods toward the front of the diner and the street beyond. I can just make out the shape of a crowd in the dark.

Maybe it’s the Guard come to haul me away.

Or maybe the Lockes have reorganized and want their revenge…

But when Bran and I step out onto the sidewalk, we find almost every single fae that resides in Midnight Harbor.

And they’re all on their knees.