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“I’m not.” Brady’s fingers curl into fists.
“Right. Let’s skip the lying and get to the truth. What’s going on, Brady?”
He glares at me. “Will you let it go?”
Not with him acting like this. Thinking over all the times he’s pretended like she didn’t exist, but was also all too aware of her every movement, I start to wonder if Brady’s hiding a deeper emotion behind a I of hate. Quinn wasn’t the first omega Brady snarled at. It was so easy to believe the disdain.
Maybe Brady’s been playing us all along.
But why?
“I had her against the doorway, and you should have seen her reaction.” Dylan runs his hands through his hair. “Shewhinedwhen I let her go.”
“What the hell are you doing, Dylan?” Brady scrubs his hands over his face. “That’s your stepsister.”
“She’s an omega,” Dylan says. “And she needs alphas.”
Way to be subtle, D.
“So what, you want to be the one to call our dads and let them know you’re hard up to knot your sister?”
“Stepsister,” I correct Brady.
He scowls at me. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Have you two lost your minds?”
“Crazier things have happened,” Dylan says. “If we could just catch her scent?—”
Brady suddenly stands and takes an aggressive step toward Dylan. “Don’t fuck with her.”
“Why do you hate her?” I ask, stealing his attention. His eyes drill into me. “Seriously, Brady. You’re always such an asshole to her.” I lean forward and hold his stare. He doesn’t scare me. I’ve seen every ugly part of him. I’ve seen him fall apart. I’ve seen him beat the shit out of countless assholes who tried to mess with us growing up. I’ve seen the lengths he would go to in order to protect me and Dylan. “Why?”
His chest heaves and the lines covering his forehead deepen. “I don’t hate her.”
I fucking knew it.
“Then, why are you so mean to her?” I prod.
“Because she’s a—” He cuts off before he can finish his sentence, but I don’t need him to say the rest to understand what he means.She’s a threat.
But Quinn? The only way she’d be a threat to us is if she somehow knew something that could destroy our family. There is another possibility. One that I don’t know how to acknowledgeor process. Before I can even begin to wrap my head around it, Dylan charges through the brick wall like a bull.
“You’ve scented her, haven’t you?”
“No,” Brady growls, but his left eye twitches.
Liar.
“Un-fucking-believable. You have!” Dylan shouts, marching toward the bookshelf with his hands in his hair. He turns on Brady. “Is she our match?”
“Shut the fuck up, Dylan.” Brady doesn’t lie this time, but he also doesn’t answer. “Quinn is our stepsister. Our dads expect us to protect her, not fuck her. And as far as her scent goes, as her family, it’s none of our business.”
Sensing that this could fall into a bigger battle of wills, I stand and step between the two of them. “Okay. Let’s drop it before you two end up brawling. Can we at least all agree that, at the very least, Quinn is family?”
The two of them scowl at one another, but after a few tense seconds, they finally nod. I blow out a hard breath.
“Good. Leave it at that for now,” I tell Dylan. He doesn’t like the answer, but he presses his lips into a thin line. “Are you hungry?” He nods. I turn and check in with Brady. “Food?”
“Yeah,” he grouses, spinning on his heel and heading toward the kitchen.
