His mate snorted. “Oh please. Cliché much?”
Fuck, how had he screwed this up? Mikhail wasn’t even sure what he’d said to make his mate angry, but he knew he was.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out—Mikhail was stumped—and before he could come up with something to say, his papa came up behind him.
“What are the odds your mate turns out to be related to your brothers’ mates too?” his papa said, his voice lowered.
Mikhail grinned. “I had hoped,” he admitted. “Marcel and I even planned on going up to Manchester to find out after Alfie showed up.”
Marcellus joined them. “I guess I’m the last man standing since your mate seems to have come to you.”
Mikhail’s eyes never left his mate while speaking to his papa and Marcellus. Rowan was holding their nephew, and his face lit up as he rocked back and forth in the chair Malachi had vacated.
“He’s a beauty,” his papa whispered.
“I know,” Mikhail said. “I know.”
“I guess we should have gone up to Manchester earlier, and maybe you’d already be mated too,” Marcellus chimed in.
“I do believe there’s one more Baines sibling.” His papa’s tone was conspiratorial as he spoke to Marcellus.
“Mmm,” Marcellus replied, “but the saying is third time's a charm. So what are the odds that the last brother is mine?”
“The goddess has an interesting sense of humour,” his papa chuckled. “I can’t believe all my boys are mated… or soon will be.” That was followed by a sniffle.
Mikhail’s dad stood and pulled his papa into his body.
“As much as I would love to keep going with this conversation, I’m going to try and talk to my mate.”
“Of course, son. Congratulations.” His dad patted him on the back.
“Good luck,” Marcellus murmured in his ears before walking over to Malachi and Alfie. He placed a kiss on the head of the baby in Alfie’s arms, then one on Alfie’s cheek. Chi pushed Marcel away.
“Get your own mate,” Chi said in a teasing voice.
“Congratulations, brother,” Marcel said to Malachi, “but I have that meeting in Dubai, and since all of you are slacking, I guess tag… I’m it.”
“Thanks, brother,” Malachi whispered.
“I’ll find out for sure where Wes is for you”—Alfie tacked a cheeky smile on his face—“since it looks like the Baines brothers were made for the Whitfell brothers.”
“It does look that way, doesn’t it?” Marcellus stood up straight and winked at Alfie. What Chi’s mate didn’t know was that they had both known where Rowan and Wes had been. They’d just not had a chance to leave with Malek and Malachi still in the newly mated and soon-to-be-father fog.
While watching all this go down, Mikhail slowly closed the steps between himself and his mate. If it wasn’t happening to him, he would have found it funny at how he literally had to tiptoe towards his mate.
When he was standing beside the rocking chair Rowan was in and Marcel had said goodbye to the rest of the family, he lowered himself to Rowan’s height. At first, he simply stared at his new nephew. He wasn’t sure if it was Seb or Callum. He would have to learn their scents so he could tell them apart.
When it didn’t seem like his mate would acknowledge him, he whispered, “I’m Mikhail.”
Rowan glanced his way and looked at him for a brief moment, then he simply nodded and turned around, not replying.
Mikhail decided to carry on. He realised that just because his mate knew about shifters, it didn’t mean he knew about fated mates. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here.”
Rowan glanced his way again, his eyes on Mikail soft, but then something happened he couldn’t figure out because Mikhail saw the moment his mate shut down on him.
“Why? You know nothing about me.”
“That may be true, but trust me when I say I want to know everything.” Mikhail knew that Rowan had heard him, but his mate didn’t reply. Instead, he started up a conversation with Axel and Alfie.
