They met on the street in front of the vehicle, and he offered his hand, relieved when Luka took it without hesitation and linked their fingers. As they climbed the sloped driveway, he took slow, steadying breaths, hoping his mate wouldn’t pick up on his own anxiety.
He really did believe he had done the right thing in forcing Luka to come, but at the same time, he had just one chance to get it right.
At the front door, he gave a perfunctory knock before pushing the door open and stepping across the threshold. The scent of freshly baked bread and cured meat greeted him, along with the low drone of conversation coming from the kitchen.
Following the noise, he gave Luka’s hand a light squeeze when he felt him tense at his side. They just had to make it past the introductions, and everything would be fine.
Probably.
In preparation for the evening, he had asked Kol to keep the gathering small and low-key. Entering the kitchen, he was pleased to see that his brother-in-law had taken the request seriously. Instead of the usual small army that filled the space, he found only four males seated around the kitchen island.
“Ruger!” Kol called when he spotted him. “I thought you had gotten lost.”
“Hilarious,” he responded dryly. They were ten minutes late. Not exactly a crisis situation.
“I thought so.” Sliding off the barstool, Kol sauntered over, completely bypassing him and offering his hand to Luka instead. “I’m glad you came. It’s nice to see you again.”
Luka accepted the peace offering with a shallow nod, though he released him a little quicker than politeness dictated. “Thank you for the invitation.”
No one else approached them, though Ruger could practically see them vibrating in their seats. Especially Remi. If he had to guess, he’d say Kol had threatened them all with great bodily harm.
He’d have to thank him for that later.
“Everyone,” he said, addressing the room. “This is my mate, Luka…”
He stalled, but eventually decided to just leave it there. Knowing Luka had no surname of his own and had been forced to take his captor’s left a sour taste in his mouth.
“Luka,” he continued, shaking off the negative energy. “This is Sheriff Vander Hale and his mate, Fritz.”
Vander nodded in greeting, stoic as ever. Fritz, however, beamed like sunshine personified.
“Hi!” He gave a little wave, then slapped his hand back down to his side. “It’s really nice to meet you. Are you hungry? Can I get you something to drink? Do you like wine?”
“Easy,” Vander said, resting his hand on his mate’s shoulder with a quiet chuckle. “Breathe, pup.”
“Thank you.” Luka offered him a kind smile that transformed his already handsome face into something truly breathtaking. “I do like wine. Red if it is no trouble.”
“No trouble at all!”
Okay, not perfect, but so far, things were going better than he had anticipated.
“And this is my brother, Remi,” he finished with a sweeping gesture. “He’s an asshole, but we keep him around anyway.”
Remi flipped him off. “Fuck you.”
With an exaggerated sigh, he glanced over at Luka. “See what I mean?”
Kol, however, clearly did not appreciate their antics, sending his mate a look of pure venom. “Behave, or I’ll make you sleep outside tonight.”
“He started it!” Remi shot back, jabbing his finger in Ruger’s direction. “Yell at him.”
“Oh, my god, are you five? We talked about this.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Shit!” Fritz yelled from the other side of the counter, his curse swiftly followed by the sound of shattering glass. “I’m sorry!”
“Damn it, Fritz.” Remi pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “That’s the third glass this week.”
