The regret there tears my heart out.
“You know that’s not your fault, right, Rafe? Nick chose you. Nick loved you.” I try to keep the pain from my voice and know I utterly fail. I wish I’d known them together. I wish I could erase the deep sadness radiating from Rafe.
Then I ask the question that’s been nagging at me.
“Do you blame Corbin?” My hands feel when his chest inhales and exhales.
“I’d be lying if I said that in my insane grief at the time I didn’t turn my anger on him. After he left, I deeply regretted it. I know that some of my shit at the time pushed him to leave. I was just so angry. And so fucking heartbroken. I still am, a lot of the time.” His voice is thick with tears. “But no, I don’t blame him anymore.” I squeeze him tight. So tight. I’m basically trying to squeeze the sadness and pain into my body at this point.
“It’s okay, Dulzura. I’m okay,” he says, squeezing my thigh again, but this time in a less absent way than before.
“I really do think my family will love you, though, Rafe,” I assure him.
“If they’re anything like you, I’m sure I’ll love them too.”
We ride a little more until we take a corner and the house comes into view. My family’s house is a large New England colonial in the countryside near Traverse City. It sits on several acres featuring a pond and a forest. Flowers grow all over the property. There are at least a dozen cars scattered across the driveway—each of my siblings, their significant others, and their children. The house is completely packed.
The guys park their bikes, and I can see little faces poking out of the windows, attracted by the sound of the motors. Kelsey and Katie, my youngest sisters, come to stand on the front porch. They’re twenty-one, twins, and complete fraternal opposites—but with their arms crossed in the same posture, they give the illusion of identical.
I pass my helmet to Rafe and glance at the other alphas. They look confident, not scared at all.
Boy, they’re wrong.
“Hey,” I say as I walk up to the youngest twins.
“You’re late,” Kelsey points out as she hugs me.
“Late for what? It’s not like this is a dentist appointment,” Katie says as she pulls me into her own hug.
“This is the Blackline Pack,” I interrupt, gesturing to the alphas behind me.
Katie and Kelsey pause to look. They don’t ask questions. I called ahead to my parents. I told them I’d found my scent-sensitive pack. I told them they’re tattoo artists. That one wears a mask and that I expect everyone to mind their own business. Demands aren’t really my thing, but when I make them, my parents listen.
My mother is a psychologist specializing in family dynamics. Boundaries are her bread and butter. My father’s a pediatrician.
“Nice bike,” Katie says.
“It’s a motorcycle, not a bike,” Kelsey corrects her.
“What in the frick is the difference?” Katie asks.
I sigh, gesture for the guys to follow, and go inside, leaving my sisters to their squabbling.
“If they aren’t fighting, they’re probably not breathing,” I tell the guys.
Gage chuckles. It’s been good seeing him come out of his grouchy shell. Ever since my heat spike after the spider incident, he and Corbin have been working together more and more.
A high-pitched squeal signals my mother has spotted us. A tall, lithe omega with graying hair worn in short silver curls steps around from the front sitting room. My mother is the most elegant woman I know. People tell me I look like her, but I’ve never seen it.
She wraps me in a hug, and behind her I see my father—a broad, bald alpha man. My parents found each other before my father joined a pack. He always says he never felt he needed anyone else as long as he had my mother.
“Let me look at you! Have you been taking good care of you—” She cuts off, sniffing the air.
I tense. This is what I’ve been dreading. I can’t hide my changed scent from her.
“Did… did you pack bond?” she asks, confusion on her face.
Because it would’ve been rude to tell her everything over the phone, I did the polite thing and waited until I got here. But I’m chickening out by the second and wishing I’d just been a coward and sent a group family text.
