Page 36 of Satisfaction Guaranteed

He growls at him, teeth bared and eyes glinting yellow.

“Fuck off, this isn’t anything like that!”

“Yes, it is!”

Cyrus runs a hand across his face with the low, exhausted groan of an eldest sibling at the end of his rope.

“That ratty old duck plush you used to sleep with when we were little kids? The one with the busted squeaker? You were bonded to that thing, I swear. I’m willing to bet you have it in a box here somewhere, actually.” Tomás beams as if Cyrus’ embarrassment of the memory fuels his spirit. “You hated anyone getting near it. Stressed yourself out if you didn’t have it close to you. Sound familiar?”

Cyrus clicks his tongue, his arms crossed as he refuses to meet the smug look in Tomás’ eyes. Alana isn’t a damn toy. He’s far enough removed from his wolfish instincts to understand that much. However, she’s important to him. Somewhat. A little. And his wolf seems to think that somehow makes her his by default—someone he has to protect. Was he…bonded to Alana?

That shouldn’t even be possible.

“I can’t stand you sometimes,” Cyrus grunts.

The idiot mimics him like a bratty child; tongue out and both middle fingers drawn. It earns Tomás a slap to the back of the head, and Cyrus is just about to suffocate him with a pillow when his front door comes busting open.

“Daaad, Mom said we’re here to pick you up from hiding!” a small voice calls, bright and bubbly as the first day of spring.

A blur of brunette hair and deep skin comes barreling toward Cyrus, one child followed closely by another. He grins, his sour demeanor fading as he easily catches them both in his arms.

“There are my girls! Right on time,” he laughs, lifting them up and planting big, wet kisses on their cheeks. He blows raspberries against their skin until they erupt with infectious giggles. “Your daddy here is wearing my patience thin.”

“At least you don’t have to live with him,” they shoot back in unison, and it elicits a snort from Cyrus. They have their father’s eyes and their mother’s smile, but that humor? Well, that was definitely his.

“Damn, ouch! My own flesh and blood.” Tomás pretends to be stabbed in the heart and then dramatically falls onto the couch, earning three simultaneous eye rolls. Cyrus sets the girls down so they can pester him with the attention he clearly wants, watching fondly as they transform into playful masses of muzzles and brown fur before dog-piling onto him.

It’s not something Cyrus has admitted out loud, but being a father fit Tomás like a glove. He might complain about being a man starved out of his home, but his wife, his girls? They were his everything. They saved him in all the ways Cyrus had been deathly afraid he wouldn’t be able to.

“See what I have to deal with?” A woman with ginger curls sighs, a hand resting on the small swell of her belly as she saunters in through the front door.

“Hey, Jade.” He greets her with a familiar kiss on the cheek. “How far along are you now?”

Her smile is worn out but genuine. “28 weeks.” She fans herself with her hand and flips her hair out from her face. “Never do this to a woman. Do you hear me? Be better than your selfish brother.”

The scoff that Tomás makes is loud enough to cut through the screaming children. He grins, feral, one pup thrown over his shoulder while he carries the other one under his arm like he’s carrying a bag of groceries. He jostles them both just to make them squeal. “Selfish? Lady, you were beggin’ me to put that baby in you. Literally.”

Cyrus grimaces, and Jade smacks him in the chest. “Take the kids to the car before I beat your ass,” she warns through a sharp purse of her lips.

If anything, that consequence doesn’t seem like a consequence at all. Tomas’ grin widens and his eyes lower as he leans in to peck her on the nose, clearly right where he wants to be. “Yes, Mama,” he purrs, deep and rumbling.

Cyrus and the girls, knowing the indication of that tone, all groan and gag on their way out the door.

“Say bye to your uncle, you little beasts,” Tomás says.

“Bye, Uncle Cyyyyy! See you later!”

Cyrus waves as the girls are hauled off through the front door and towards the truck. Eve and Jeanie were good kids, kind kids. He honestly couldn’t ask for a better pair of nieces.

“He’s not wrong,” Jade hums. “He kind of had me begging for this one, the bastard. After the twins, we said we were done. But you wolf types have some sort of weird possession ability in the bedroom, I swear.”

Cyrus’ nose scrunches up in the same manner as when he has to shovel shit out of the chicken coop. “Jade, please. I would rather get kicked in the sack than ever hear about your involvement with my baby brother. As far as I’m concerned, ya’ll are celibate, and you’re the new-age Virgin Mary.”

Jade cackles and swats him in the arm. She’s human, but she showed early on she had the personality to run with their humble little pack. She’s every bit as loud and rambunctious and inappropriate as his brother, if not more so.

“I was joking earlier, by the way,” she continues. “Kind of. It wouldn’t be the worst to see you with one of these.” Jade rubs her belly with an affectionate glow in her light green eyes.

“These crazy kids would love a cousin or two.”