Brothersong (Green Creek 4)

She grinned. “Yes?”

“You know what.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was just asking Gavin about his cabin.”

Gavin glanced between us. Whatever else he was, he obviously wasn’t versed in innuendo yet. I dreaded the day he would be. But then he said, “Carter’s pretty big,” and I wondered if it was too late to send him back.

Mom coughed roughly as I looked toward the ceiling.

Gavin huffed out a breath, and it took me longer than I cared to admit to realize he was laughing at me. Again.

“I’m going back to bed,” I grumbled, but Mom pushed us both toward the dining room.

“Later,” she said. “You’re home, and we’re going to fawn over you and berate you, among other things. And you will take it because you don’t have any other choice.”

The others stopped talking as we appeared in the entryway. The table in the center of the room was new, bigger than the one we’d had before. I remembered the days when it’d been just us, just Dad and Mom, Kelly and Joe, me and Mark, and how it’d felt like enough. It wasn’t. I could see that now.

Ox stood at the head of the table, watching over his pack, a serene look on his face. Joe was next to him, and he looked more at ease, more relaxed than I ever remembered him being.

Kelly and Robbie sat on the far side of the table. Rico and Bambi were next to them, Joshua sleeping in his mother’s arms. Tanner and Chris turned around to look at us, and their eyes were orange, a pulse of packpackpack that felt wild and sharp. Jessie and Dominique sat seated next to them, and I heard Jessie whisper, “I used to have a little crush on Carter. Even when I was dating Ox. I had very weird taste.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered as both Gavin and Joe growled at her.

“I like to think you traded up,” Dominique told her. She pushed a lock of hair off Jessie’s shoulder. “Men are gross.”

Gordo and Mark appeared behind us, and I wished I never had to smell the stench I could smell on them again.

“Your shirt is buttoned up wrong,” Mom told Gordo, sounding amused.

Mark puffed out his chest as Gordo mumbled death threats at all of us.

“So gross,” Jessie agreed.

Mom pushed us toward two empty chairs before taking her own seat at the other end of the table from Ox. There was food piled high in dishes on the table, and I saw that she’d made all my favorites: meatloaf and mashed potatoes and thick, crusty bread wrapped in a dish towel. My mouth watered, and I had to stop myself from tearing into it. Ox had yet to sit, his hands on the back of his chair.

We all looked to him as the room fell silent, Gavin’s hand still holding tightly on to my own.

Ox nodded, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slow. He said, “We’re here. Together again. Finally.” He looked at each of us in turn, saving Gavin and me for last. “I never….” He shook his head. Joe touched the back of his hand. “Through it all, we’re still here. It’s all I ever wanted. Thank you. Carter. Gavin. Welcome home.” His gaze hardened slightly, and his voice deepened. “This is where you belong. Never forget that.” And then he smiled, and it was like he was sixteen years old again, a boy bigger than he had any right to be, quiet and kind. “Let’s eat. Anything else can wait until after. We have much to discuss.”

He sat down as Joe lifted his hand and kissed his fingers.

It was practiced, this meal. The food being passed around, the people smiling and laughing at each other. I felt out of sync with them, out of place. There was a history here I was a part of, but a year had passed since I’d last been with them all. They had grown as a pack without me, and I didn’t know quite how I fit in.

Dominique was pack. Bambi was pack. Even Joshua was pack. Rico was a wolf, and Mark hadn’t been an Omega for a long time. I was jittery, my leg bouncing up and down underneath the table. They were careful around me—around us—as they smiled and laughed. I took what I was offered, putting food on my plate and Gavin’s.

As Tanner reached across the table to hand me the basket of bread, his shirt pulled away from his neck, and I saw the bumpy ridge of a scar on his shoulder.

I gaped at him.

He frowned as everyone quieted.

“What?” he asked. “Is something wrong with the bread?”

“You have a mate?” I demanded.

“Oh.” He set the basket on the table. “Uh. Yes? Sort of.”

“Who is she? Why isn’t she here?” I didn’t know how I felt about that. It was honestly none of my goddamn business, but it was strange to know a person that I didn’t know who was so tied into the pack existed in the world.