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I ignore Ben when he snaps at us for making too much noise, and go through to the kitchen where my mum and dad are sitting, drinking a cup of tea each. They’ve likely been theorising with each other, making plans that my brothers and I are unlikely to be clued in on, but both of them give Topher and I assessing looks as we enter the room.
My mum is the first to rise, the pink dress she’s wearing is ageing her a good decade or two, and I hold in my annoyance when she plasters that fake, big smile on her face.
She might love Topher and dote on the rest of us, but she’s a viper underneath her pretty outer layer.
“Topher, Alex,” my mum greets. Her hazel eyes are filled to the brim with curiosity, and it rubs me the wrong way. “I take it you heard from your brothers about your potential mate?”
“How true is it?” my dad asks with a raised eyebrow. There’s a sneer on his face, as if Maia isn’t good enough for him.
Fucking fool that he is. Maia is everything, and I’ve not even laid eyes on her yet.
“Go to mate. We need mate. Love mate. Touch mate. Mate!” Max is back to pleading and begging with me to get to see Maia, but I can’t give in. Not yet.
“We need to be smart, Max, we need to play this properly to ensure Maia’s safety.”
“Not too sure. I’ll need to see her first to make sure. Her scent is pretty diluted,” I say, and Topher echoes my uncertainty. I’m surprised by that. Topher’s the first born and should feel the pull of the bond far more intensely than Ben, Seb and I will. My wolf is going crazy with his need, so Orion will be even worse.
“She’s a strange one,” my dad says, and I have to bite back my growl. I’m not sure if he’s trying to test me, or Topher, or if he’s just being his usual blunt self.
“Kill him. Rip his throat out. Let him die for disrespecting our mate.”
I smirk, but quickly smooth it out when Topher gives me a dirty look. Instead, I try to reason with my reckless wolf. “We’re not killing our father, Max. Not only would it devastate mother and the twins, but I don’t think our new mate would be impressed.”
Max snarls, but doesn’t comment, instead huffing in our mind as he waits for his turn to meet our mate. He doesn’t favour our fathers very much. Max is of the opinion that our fathers are weak, and that they should hand the pack over to us so that we can handle our rivalry with our enemy pack.
Out with the old… and out with the even older.
“She’s strange in what way?” Topher asks, keeping a much tighter control over himself and Orion. His voice doesn’t even waver. I guarantee my elder brother’s wolf is not making it easy on him. Max seems to find that as funny as I do.
“She’s a mother, with no real life on paper that we’ve found. She doesn’t seem to work, and never has as far as we can find, yet her car is almost brand new, and both her and her daughter are wearing very good clothing,” my mum says, and I hold back the growl.
How dare she nitpick my mate this way? So what if she has nice clothes and no job? I’ll take her no matter what her life is like. I can financially provide, I have a home, I can give her whatever she wants or needs.
Both she and the pup will be taken care of.
“She’s moved around a lot, has no family ties, and so far hasn’t said more than two words about Phoebe’s dad,” she continues, checking off on her fingers as if she’s making a checklist.
“Phoebe is the baby?” Topher asks, and both my parents nod. Why the fuck didn’t Ben tell us the baby’s name? Asshole. “I see. Age?”
“Five days old,” my dad replies. “But if we can’t get a claim on her and Maia?—”
“Any claims to be made, are ours, and only if the shoe fits,” Topher says, injecting a deep growl into his words as he gives my father a stern look. “Mate or not, we do not talk about women as if they are cattle. Not in this pack.”
A silent standoff occurs between the two alphas, and their wolves are both putting them all behind it. Unsurprisingly, my dad is the one who looks away first—it’s been happening more and more often as of late.
George is the strongest of my three dads, and as such, he’s the one always butting heads with Topher. It’s becoming more and more apparent why.
Me and the rest of our quad are ready to take over the pack, but the old men won’t loosen the reins.
“What’s she like personality wise?” I ask, and Max perks up as he listens attentively.
“She’s polite,” my mum says, after thinking about it for a moment.
“I love a good mate who can beg so prettily and politely,” Max purrs appreciatively.
“But she’s also strong-willed with a sharp tongue,” she continues.
“Oh, a mate who can fight back and protect our pups,” Max says. “I love her already.”
