Page 17 of Binding His Fated Mates

The twins were following us. Anyone else might not have been able to tell them apart at a glance, but I’d always been able to, without even trying.

Lee was only a few steps behind me. His jaw was tight. His hands, which were usually still and deliberate, were clenched at his sides. He didn’t look angry, though. He looked shaken.

Hunter was a few steps behind him, his shoulders squared and his expression set in a hard line, his green gaze locked forward with an intensity that practically dared someone to tell him he wasn’t welcome.

What the hell were they doing?

Reed noticed them at the same time I did. He stopped walking and turned to face the twins. “This is a private conversation.”

“We’re coming,” Lee said flatly. “Daniel isn’t leaving my sight.”

“Our sight,” Hunter corrected. But he cast his twin a sidelong, searching look that Lee ignored.

Huh? Why? What the hell did they think they were doing?

Reed’s brows knitted together as he studied them. His gaze flicked to Lee, then back to Hunter. Then, maybe deciding that, yes, they really were serious and quite possibly insane—or maybe that was a me-exclusive thought—his lips curved down into a thoughtful frown. He glanced at Harris.

His mate gave him a small shrug that seemed to say: your call.

“Hm.” Reed raised his eyebrows meaningfully at me. “You okay with that?”

Surprise rippled through me at his question. Maybe this whole thing couldn’t be that bad if he still wanted my input?

I glanced over at the twins. Hunter glared back at me, as if daring me to say no. Lee’s face was pale and pinched with anxiety, his green eyes raking over me, as if to reassure himself that I was still here, still in one piece.

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s fine.”

Reed looked at the twins for another long moment. “Very well.”

Then he turned back toward the cabin he shared with Harris.

I followed him, feeling so baffled I almost forgot about the impending doom hanging over my head. They hadn’t voluntarily put themselves in the same room with me in almost two years. And now they were insisting on it? Both of them?

What the hell did that mean?

With Lee and Hunter in step behind me, I had to fight to ignore the relief and comfort pouring through me at their proximity, as if my body had somehow decided that if they were nearby, everything was going to be okay, after all.

It was a lie. And a dangerous one at that.

Harris and Reed’s cabin was warm and lived-in, with mismatched furniture and bookshelves crammed with paperbacks. Harris’s influence was visible in the newer additions to the decor: a whiteboard hung on one wall, patrol schedules written in color-coded dry-erase marker. And two copies of the same cozy mystery novel were side by side on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Reed and Harris each grabbed one of the wooden kitchen chairs from the table, carried them over to the living room, and sat down facing me. The twins took the couch. I stood in the middle of the room, feeling vaguely like I was on trial, not sure whether to sit. Sitting down seemed a little too relaxed for the disaster that was about to unfold.

“Have a seat,” Reed said, pointing at the couch.

Lee scooched over to make room for me in the middle. Hunter’s expression tightened, but he also moved over. Meaning I’d need to sit between them.

I sat. Between the close proximity to the twins and Harris and Reed, it felt roughly like facing a firing squad.

“First things first,” Reed said. His voice was calmer than I would’ve expected. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said immediately. “I’m fine, don’t worry. But if Lee hadn’t—” I broke off, my hands suddenly trembling of their own volition. I slid them under my legs. I glanced over at Lee. “Thanks.”

He snorted, the ghost of a smile bowing on his lips. “No problem.”

Harris leaned forward, his hands steepling. He considered me, his dark eyes searching mine. “Daniel, do you understand what’s happening?”

“I—”