Viktor braced his hands on the edge of the sink and met his second’s eyes in the mirror. “It’s new.”
“Is it?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Benny shrugged. Swirling his beer, he answered, “Just think it’s awfully coincidental that you’d suddenly get the fever for an elf that justhappensto be cousins with your former best friend. That’s all.”
“I haven’t spoken to her in twenty years,” Viktor flatly replied.
He wasn’t lying, but it wasn’t exactly the truth, either. This thingwasnew. Whatever they’d had as teens couldn’t come close to what roared between them now — whether Camille acknowledged it or not.
He felt Benny’s stare as he turned to exit the bathroom, but Viktor was too wound up to play along with the ribbing his second wanted to give him. Maneuvering around him, he padded into the kitchen on bare feet.
“So, when are you gonna tell the pack?”
Viktor tensed. Forcing himself to rein in a snarl, he rummaged around for a glass and filled it with cold water from the tap. “When she says yes.”
“Don’t you think you should give them a heads up beforehand?”
Swallowing a cool sip, he rasped, “I know, Benny. I know. I’m just— We’ve got baggage with the elves, and with the Alliance shit hanging over our heads, I…”
“What baggage?” His second snorted with dark amusement. “You mean the kind where her family killed half our pack and made your shithead grandfather alpha when they moved in next door?Thatbaggage?”
Viktor set his half empty glass down on the countertop with too much force. The cup, made of sturdy, biodegradable plastic, cracked down one side. “Yes,that.”
Benny threw a heavy arm around Viktor’s shoulders. Suddenly serious, he said, “I get it, man. I do. But you’ve got to trust pack. If you want her, then they’ll trust you made the right choice. You gotta give us the chance, though.” He reached up to tap the rim of his beer bottle against Viktor’s temple. “Don’t make assumptions. I know you think everyone hates the elves as much as your dad and grandpa did, but it’s a new generation, Vik. We’re moving on.”
It was annoyingly ironic of Benny to call him out using an almost identical admonishment to the one he’d leveled on Alpha Andreas.
Was he shortchanging his pack by keeping his suit secret? Guilt was a heavy stone in his belly.
He’d kept his feelings for Camille to himself for so long, it was hard to let go, to share her.
It was a selfish impulse, and fundamentally against everything that made alphas what they were, but damn, he hadn’t even gotten her back yet. Asking him to share her, even in thought, with the whole pack made his instincts bristle. The coyote wanted her tohimself.Was that too much to ask after so many years of loneliness?
That didn’t mean Benny was wrong, though. In fact, Viktorknewhe was right. Knowing it just didn’t make it any easier.
“I’ll tell the pack,” he grunted, stepping out of Benny’s one-armed embrace. His skin felt sensitive, his senses raw — the fever made everything seem more intense, even glancing contact with packmates he’d known his whole life. It made the magic in his veins boil — preparing itself to erupt the moment he sank his canines into the soft skin of her shoulder.
Running his fingers through his hair one last time, Viktor used his other hand to give Benny’s meaty shoulder a shove toward the door. “I’ll tell the seniors tomorrow. Until then, you have to get the fuck outta my den. I’ve got a date.”
Benny held up his hands — and beer — in surrender as he trotted toward the door. “Fine, fine! Gods help me, I’d rather gnaw my tail off than get between an alpha and his pretty elvish mate.”
“Damn right.” Viktor opened the door and gave his second one last shove out into the evening sunlight. Benny’s laughter trailed after him even after the door was firmly shut.
He checked the time. Only a handful of minutes had passed. Was time moving slower or faster than it should? He couldn’t rightly tell anymore.
Flustered, Viktor strode into the open living area in the center of his den and hastily rearranged the pillows on his couch, the press of instinct demanding he make his den absolutely perfect before his mate saw it.
Camille loved beautiful things. He remembered watching her flip through feeds on her tablet as they hid away together in the small, usually deserted park by the train yard south of Market street, and the way she would gush over the color of a wall or the arch of a window.
Even if he wasn’t a shifter and therefore hardwired to care about his den, he would have been nervous. No, she wasn’t steppinginsidethe space he had so lovingly designed for her over the years, but she wouldseeit — or, whatever the camera bothered to show her, at least.
Heart jackknifing in his chest, Viktor checked the time again and sat down in the center of his soft gray couch. He swallowed hard. It didn’t matter that he just drank water; his throat felt like sunbaked asphalt.
Before he could reach for the controller and begin to agonize over hitting the call button, the cellphone in his pocket buzzed.
Scowling, he contorted himself to yank it out of his back pocket. The only thing that stopped him from sending the call to voicemail and silencing the damn thing was the name on the screen:Ruben Andreas.
