9. Emmett

9

EMMETT

“ D on't be a twat, Sam!"

A low growl rumbles the wall between the living room and my office. "Turn it the fuck down, Oliver!"

Annoyed, I crack my neck and try to focus on the paperwork that needs to get done. It's a Saturday and I should be hanging out with my pack, but I just can't today. Samuel woke up on an even worse side of his fucking bed today, and Oliver is, well, he's Oliver. Notoriously spazzy, and quite frankly, my beta is chaotic as fuck.

So no, I'm not surprised Oli has Katy Perry blasting in the living room while he plays video games and yes, it is awfully common for him to piss his older brother off. Not only common, but pretty damn frequent.

"Oliver, I swear to fuck!"

My beta's booming laugh echoes through the walls next. Between his teasing humor and Samuel's sheer irateness in the pack bond, I'm about to flip my shit too. Thankfully, my mate bond with Oliver drowns out Samuel’s constant boiling anger at the world, but it's taxing none the less. Not to mention, Oliver being constantly spastic and always on gets to be exhausting too.

One might think being the levelheaded alpha of the pack means I would be less overwhelmed, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Sure, I can mask my feelings and compartmentalize like my life depends on it, but the truth is, our pack of three is fraying more each day.

My relationship with Oliver is strong and my love for him grows with each passing minute. It's impossible to keep our mate bond separate from the pack link.

I hate to say it, but a lot of it comes down to Sam and his depression that he refuses to face. It's like a festering wound that has only worsened since the day we presented. I don't know how to help Samuel anymore. No matter what I say, no matter how much space I give him, it's not enough to drag him from his pit of misery.

We aren't enough, me and Oliver. I'm his childhood best friend and Oliver is his brother, but life with us seems to only get worse for Samuel. It's not all our fault necessarily. No, that's an entirely different matter. One that dates back five years.

Amaya . The name which is not to be spoken.

We were all hurt by her abandoning us. Honestly, I doubt it would have broken Samuel as much if she weren't our scent match. Alas, we scented her a few hours too late.

Samuel was there that morning. Knocked on the door like usual to drive her to school. All that greeted him was her mom and the fresh spring and lavender scent of our mate. Not only that, but Sam had to hear the explanation that she left us all by himself.

He didn't show up at school that day. My best friend presented as an alpha in the worst way possible; complete devastation that his mate left him. Left us. I wasn't far behind when I went to her place later that day. Rejected before I even knew she was meant to be mine, I fell fast into my alpha designation as well.

What's worse? Sam and I were immediately separated from Oliver for a year while we went to the designation academy in Baltimore.

Seventeen and separated from the sixteen-year-old boy I was falling in love with and reeling from the news of my mate ditching us for her daddy's money. I barely stood a chance; then Oliver was deemed a beta and came to study with us when he turned seventeen that next year.

It's uncommon to present as an alpha or a beta later than the age of sixteen, so Oliver was back in my arms before long. Being the calmest and most rational of the three of us with my beta at my side, I think I was spared a lot of the turmoil that runs through Samuel.

Oliver shows his struggle in his humor and playfulness. He's like a never-ending loop of distraction.

I don't know if I can blame Amaya. After her nana died a few years before she left, she seemed to retreat into herself more and more. Her mom was a piece of work from the minimal information I gathered, so her taking the opportunity presented to her makes sense.

I just wish she would have come to us. And if not us, then one of our parents. We found out from Oliver and Sam's parents after she left that she and her mom were struggling financially.

Why would anyone want to live like that if they have a rich dad to take them in? I understand her motives for leaving town to be with her dad, but why would she cut us out of her life?

Christ, we'd been friends since elementary school. Sam and Oli's dads tried to help her mom find a house when she thought she could afford it. Being a drunk who never shows up to work didn’t leave Amaya’s mom many options.

They never did move out of Amaya's grandma's house, but at least Amaya made a friend in Oliver before the start of fourth grade. The brothers met the girl who would soon become our mate before I did, but I was her neighbor.

God, we were closer than shit.

I miss her.

Just before I really devolve into thinking about the girl who tore my soul to shreds, my cell rings. I don't know the number on the caller ID, but I use it for work too, so without further thought, I answer.

"Jenkins Realty, this is Emmett Raven. How can I help you?"

After we graduated from the designation academy, the three of us started working for Oli and Sam's dads. As the years have gone by, we've taken more and more responsibility for the company.

"Hello, my name is Paul Arison. I'm hoping to find a house for my daughter and am told you're the best near Baltimore."

Arison . That name sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it.

Pride fills me when I catch onto his compliment. Not only has the Jenkins family built an incredible business, but we have expanded it using our knowledge and reach for a younger demographic.

"Of course," I respond, excited to be adding another client to our books. "I'll start by gathering some information and learn about what your daughter is looking for. Then we'll set up a meeting. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good, thank you." He's curt, but I don't mind the briskness in his tone. I deal with Samuel every damn day.

"Is your daughter with you to provide an idea of what she's looking for?" I ask, knowing she will probably have a bigger say than her dad.

The line is silent for a moment before Paul clears his throat. "Uh, no. This is... a gift. A surprise, so she won't be really involved until we sign."

A gift? Who gifts a fucking house?

Without missing a beat, I reply, "Alright, what's your email?"

Hopefully whoever would gift their kid a house has enough money to make this month a really good one.