Chapter Thirteen

Taylin

Every bit of tiredness he had felt earlier fled with the excitement that pulsed through him at all the possibilities of what lay ahead of them.

It took concerted effort to hold a conversation with those around them when Hollis sat opposite him, looking flushed, smelling tastier and more edible than the meal in front of him.

To Taylin, it was obvious Hollis was doing his utmost to avoid looking at him by the amount of time he spent staring at his food while he ate. Almost like he'd not seen food or eaten in a week. Taylin had decided, on the way down to dinner, he didn't care who noticed what was happening between him and Hollis. He'd waited too long for this, and he wasn't going to fuck it up by acting like nothing was going on—unless Hollis wanted that .

It wasn't like his brothers weren't aware of his attraction to Taylin, the ribbing he'd already endured would be nothing once they discovered what was going to happen. He was well aware his brothers could be relentless when they got it into their heads to torment each other. He'd done it a time or two himself, but it had been years since they'd all lived under the same roof, which would make him an easy target. Yeah, that wasn't something he wanted to think about and potentially spoil his mood.

To distract himself, he stared at the top of Hollis's glossy head. Admiring the way the lights above them highlighted the thick, silky locks, bringing forth an urge to reach over and touch them. Resisting carried with it a wave of pure want. It stole his ability to take a breath and replaced the hunger for food with something far more appetizing: Hollis. The attempted deep inhale was a mistake when Taylin's senses swam at the fruity aroma coming from Hollis towards him. Was it just him, or was Hollis's fruity scent increasing? Could the others smell how it was changing?

One quick glance around the table showed no one was paying any extra attention to Hollis, which didn't help when Taylin's animal spirit preened like a damn ballet dancer at their obvious connection to the pygmy loris.

"Do you think those omegas in the workshop get to go home?"

Frey's quiet question pulled Taylin from the growing sexual haze he was falling into and dumped a bucket of icy realism on him .

"What do you mean?" Booker asked before anyone else could, his features taut with worry as he shifted his large bulk in his seat, causing it to groan.

Glittering tear drops hung suspended off Frey's long lashes when he looked around the table that was tucked into the corner of the restaurant. They asked for it as it was the one that offered the most privacy for conversation.

"They were so…" His small nose wrinkled, and caused a tear to roll down his cheek, plopping onto his plate. "Lost."

Frey used the back of his tiny hand to dash at the next tear that fell. "That atmosphere was full of despair. Couldn't you smell it? I thought we'd talk about it. Why aren't we?" He hiccuped out a sob, his sorrowful eyes swallowing his face up, making it impossible to not feel his sadness. "How do they cope with it?"

Booker wordlessly laid an open palmed hand face up on the table, offering it to Frey.

Frey reached out, his tiny hand engulfed in Booker's meaty fist. Those around the table looked at the joined hands, most with speculation.

Taylin tucked away his questions about the magnitude of what Booker had just done to think about later.

"I don't know," he replied solemnly to the first question Frey asked. The weight of responsibility and the possibility they'd left those omegas to suffer cut deep, leaving Taylin at a loss for words.

"We're gonna fix it," Booker said with a fierceness that suggested anyone that tried to stop him would get removed in any way he saw fit. "Dad is working on it now. And we weren't talking about it because"—his gaze swept the busy dining room—"having this type of conversation where it can be overheard isn't how we do business. What we need to do is have a little patience."

His thumb stroked over the back of Frey's hand, looking solely at the little fox. "I promise you we'll go back and fix those shitheads." The growl he released was full of menace, and those at the tables closest to them cast wary glances in their direction.

Taylin shivered when memories of another time came unbidden, throwing him into his past and to the first time he had heard that sound.

Taylin sniveled and rubbed at his icy nose—it hadn't stopped running since he'd left the warm school to head back to hide in the alleyway three blocks from school—with the back of an even colder hand. Each step was a reminder of the beating he'd taken from his father and brothers four days earlier. They'd been real careful to keep his face unmarked, because none of them wanted to answer any questions.

Shame was real, it came in rejection and Taylin now knew the hard cruelty of it. There was no such thing as love without strings, not for him or his kind. The wind stole his quiet sob as he kept his head down, keeping his fast pace as close to walking as possible. It stopped folks from paying too much attention when he didn't need or want it. It was bad enough keeping it together at school, in front of the teachers and his friends while he tried to figure out how he was going to survive the next three years when the next three days, hours, minutes felt impossible .

His eyes stung as he fought the tears burning his nose and adding to his overall distress. A bone gnawing hunger competed with the cold and made his brain churn over every slight movement that came with being homeless. Destitute. Taylin hadn't understood what that word meant until his family had figured out his secret.

A secret that was an enormous bag of despair that weighed him down enough he felt his face was dragging on the asphalt. Divergent. It went hand in hand with destitute, or so it seemed to his family.

A lone tear ran unheeded down his icy skin at how he'd gotten thrown out of his childhood home like garbage. He choked back the next sob that worked to hold his throat in its tight grip, forcing him to struggle to swallow. More shivers racked his body as the icy wind blasted through the coat he wore that was no defense against the freezing conditions that had hit Hazardville three days earlier and took up residence like an unwanted homeless person— just like me.

Life on the streets, Taylin was figuring out fast, wasn't for the weak. Didn't matter that Hazardville had a high population of the affluent. On the streets, hidden in the shadows, were those who preyed on those less fortunate. Hiding in alleyways had already taught Taylin a valuable lesson. Being invisible was much better than becoming sucked into the seedy nightlife and selling his soul to survive. To become one of those he'd seen with vacant eyes selling themselves for the next hit to get through. He'd be damned if he'd let that happen.

I'd rather die !

His hands balled into fists inside his coat pockets at his conviction. It see-sawed in the dead of the night with every scream and cry that made his pulse thump hard, and his sleep deprived brain conjured macabre pictures that were hard to shut out.

He gave a furtive look about, checking no one was watching as he darted down the alleyway at the back of Hudson and Park. The vents blasting food smells at the back of the restaurants tortured his stomach, reminding him—like he'd need it—that the few meager scraps he'd salvaged from the cafeteria bin, when no one was looking, weren't nearly enough to keep his hunger at bay.

As he passed, he inhaled the warm, scented air which touched his exposed face. Taylin paused for a brief second to enjoy the smell of something spicy and allow the heat to warm him before he crouched behind the large dumpster pushed into the darkest part of the alley. The short winter days meant it was already gloomy at this time and in the next hour would be full dark. Until then, he'd use the dumpster to shield him from sight and from the worst of the cold.

He'd barely ducked down when he heard the sounds of muffled voices and boots scuffling over the concrete. There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a grunt before a voice jeered, "Stick it to him, Race,"

"Let's show him what happens to freaks," another male voice said with excitement.

"Hold the divergent fucker," came another voice, full of hatred.

There were other voices, all male, full of anger. Full of hate.

"Fight me one on one, you chicken shits. Let's see how you fair then." Although slurred in pain, the voice was one Taylin recognized .

Silas.

They're beating up Silas, holy shitballs.

Silas was a senior and a well-known divergent in Taylin's school. Silas was always polite, or had been to Taylin when they'd crossed paths. In fact, for a moment, Taylin had considered working up the courage to speak to Silas, to see if he knew anyone who could help. Silas's parents were of mixed origin. Taylin's father had talked about it, nothing nice though.

Lane Starling was an omega divergent who didn't shift, whereas Derick Starling was an alpha wolf who could shift into his animal half. Their fashion business promoted equality for all. And secretly, even before Taylin had figured out he was divergent, he liked what they supported.

Taylin would bet the few meager dollars he had that they'd never kick their son out. Yet Silas wasn't immune to life's crap either. The shock of that reality brought Taylin out of his hiding space, his fists raised to fight. He counted eight boys laying the boot in on Silas who was on the ground, no more than four feet from him.

It was hard to tell in the gloominess where Silas's head was, but the way they were booting at him, Taylin suspected Silas would die if Taylin didn't help.

His anger and frustration at his own situation roared to life, and he jumped at the nearest figure and started swinging, landing punches hard enough to zing up his arms.

"What the fuck!" the guy called out, staggering.

Taylin didn't pause, he just kept hitting, his fists crunching against bone. Wetness spread over his knuckles as his mind became a blur. His animal spirit was right there with him, pushing him on to defend themselves and the man on the ground.

Blows rained down on Taylin from different directions, black spots formed in front of his eyes and he fought to stay conscious as his energy waned from the lack of food, and the cold. His anger was the only thing fueling him.

"Fucker, grab him," someone called out.

"Get his damn legs," a gravelly voice demanded.

His legs?

Taylin only then noticed he was not only punching but kicking too.

"Arghhhh… fuck…"

Endless sounds of cries and wet flesh being smacked resounded in Taylin's head. His heightened senses were in overdrive with the coppery smell of blood surrounding him. Some of his own, but not all.

His vision wavered at the blow that landed on his temple and his head fired back, hitting something solid, causing his legs to give way. The ground veered towards him as he listed and slid down—his nose wrinkled—the dumpster. He blinked, blinded by the wetness seeping down through his curls.

His sluggish system tried to keep him conscious when a roar so terrifying rent the air and Taylin's bladder took fright. Warm wetness soaked his pants and the scent of urine didn't quite get masked by blood and fear, adding to the overall shittiness of the situation. Taylin rubbed at slitted and puffy eyes with trembling hands, staring at the enormous bear that was standing upright, towering over everyone, growling in a way that suggested Taylin was about to breathe his last.

Hell and damnation!