“That bastard,” Jericho mocked fondly.
It was so obvious how proud he was of how he’d raised them to be good men.
“I know, right?” Arsen laughed. “What is it with people who want others to be mean to them in relationship? It isbizarre. Even Zane—who likes being bitten—demands Asa be nice to him outside the bedroom.”
“Like Aiden,” Atticus said thoughtfully. “Matty probably has Daddy issues.”
“Probably,” Arsen agreed.
Atticus didn’t know for sure, but it tracked—the push and pull, the resistance to kindness, the way Matty bristled at being included and then lingered anyway. He’d seen it before. Too many times.
Lucas appeared in the doorway, pale and tight around the eyes. “Petra was in a minor car accident,” he said. “She’s fine but she’s not coming. You’re up.”
Atticus inhaled slowly, then exhaled. Doctor mode slid into place with practiced ease. “Got it.”
“Go get ’em, Freckles,” Jericho teased, leaning in to kiss him when Atticus offered his mouth.
Atticus squeezed his hand once before letting go—then stood, already moving, already focused.
“Bet you never thought you’d have your hand in another woman again, huh, Freckles,” Arsen taunted, yelping when Jericho smacked him in the back of the head.
Atticus gave his husband one last longing look. “I’ll be back soon.”
Jericho’s smile had his stomach doing backflips. “We’ll be here waiting for you.”
We…
Atticus had so many people who loved him.
Enough to fill a house.
Wild. Truly wild.
DIMITRI
The roads were icy, the winds whipping the barren trees back and forth until it looked like a choreographed dance routine. Branches bowed and snapped upright again, their shadows flickering across the windshield like restless hands. He would have found it funny, if Arlo wasn’t sitting next to him, body tensed, eyes narrowed, trying to peer into the darkness like he was the one driving.
There was a crash out coming.
Dimitri could feel it. Not emotionally—he didn’t work that way—but instinctively. Something pinged his lizard brain when Arlo’s emotions began to run high, when the world was starting to get too loud for him. Arlo’s breathing had changed ten minutes ago. Too shallow. Too fast. His shoulders hadn’t dropped once since they’d merged onto the highway.
Dimitri could see fine. The weather sucked but between the GPS, his familiarity with the highway,and his inability to feel fear, he was fully confident in his abilities. Fear was noise. This was math. The city had done all the things. They had plowed and salted the roads, had all the warning signs and alerts. They were going to be fine. Statistically. Logistically. Objectively.
Dimitri chalked it up to Arlo’s worry about Java. The German Shepherd slept all the way in the back of Dimitri’s vintage Land Cruiser, snoring loudly as the anesthesia from her minor procedure wore off. Each breath puffed softly against the crate, a steady rhythm Dimitri kept half an ear tuned to. It was the only reason they were on the highway this time of night. They’d had to pick her up from the vet before heading to the mansion.
But, again, he wasn’t worried. His SUV was a tank. Solid, rugged, built for almost anything. That’s why he’d bought it. It wasn’t as sleek and modern as the new ones, but he’d enjoyed helping Jericho rebuild it. Grease under his nails, the quiet satisfaction of putting something broken back together. With the new parts, it would probably run for another ten years, maybe more.
Even in weather like this.
When he pressed on the gas, the car surged, then hesitated, the acceleration sluggish, hesitant almost. The vibration under his foot felt…off. He didn’t hear anything unusual at first but the storm dampened even roaring engines. It wasn’t a loud bang that finally got his attention, but the Toyota’s final wet cough. A sound more tired than catastrophic. The moment he’d heard it, both the brakes and steering wheel grew heavy and useless, causing the SUV to accelerate slightly onthe downward slope of the road ahead.
“What’s happening?” Arlo asked, voice taking on that sharp panicked tone Dimitri rarely heard anymore. The one that cut, clean and bright, straight through Dimitri’s chest.
Dimitri wanted to answer but needed to concentrate. Words could wait. Control couldn’t. With effort, he turned the SUV into the snowbank. The impact was so minimal it barely disturbed the ice. Snow sighed around the tires, swallowing the movement whole. He killed the engine, hit the hazards, and finally turned to face Arlo.
“First, I need you to know that we’re okay. We are not in any danger. Okay?” He said it slowly, evenly.
Arlo gave a stilted nod, eyes still wide, pupils blown. Dimitri took his hands. They were icy despite the heat that had been blasting moments ago. Cold enough to register even through Dimitri’s gloves, which was saying something. He rubbed his thumbs over Arlo’s knuckles, grounding pressure, familiar and deliberate.
