“About Havoc, about us.” His words make me snap my undivided attention to him. His green eyes hold worry. A worry I need to soothe as Pack Lead.
“About… the Fallons,” I ask, wondering where the worry comes from.
“Yeah, I know Havoc isn’t a bad guy?— “
“Right.” I say, cutting him off. “Havoc isn’t normal, and we love that about him.”
“I agree.” He says. His gaze holds mine, and I believe him. He’s my mate just as much as Havoc is, even if Havoc is… different.
I’m not playing God, but the world is a better place without the Fallons.
“I’m glad that we are Pack, though,” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood before our other two mates get here. “He’s scary.” Fucking understatement of the year, but I can’t pretend I don’t love that about him.
“We’re finally complete,” Thorne mutters, a smile gracing his perfect pink lips. “But there’s one more thing.”
“Now what?” I try to laugh, but he’s laying it on thick this morning.
“Hockey.” The word makes me more surprised than Havoc’s murder spree. “What’s going on there?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, playing dumb. It’s not a conversation I thought we would have so soon.
“Last game, shooting when the goalie is down. You know better than that. And when you were on the bench, you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.”
“Not just anywhere. I want to be here. With my Pack.”
“Maybe in the stands instead of on the ice.” His voice sends a chill down my back. “You’ve been disconnected from the game for a while.”
“But we worked so hard–”
“And accomplished so much, Silas, I love you whether you’re on the ice with me or not.” Thorne slides the pancake he’s finished on top of the stack and stops as he faces me. “I’ll say it for you, if you need me to. Retire.”
“I’m twenty-six.”
“And you’re tired.”
“It’s still early in my career.”
“But you don’t need a career. At least not on the ice. You can followyourdreams now instead of mine.” His words ring in my head like a ping-pong. I loved hockey. I started playing hockey because of him. How many mates go pro together? Hockey was our love.
Hockey was always our dream. But now–I sigh, looking around the kitchen, avoiding eye contact, but those damn green eyes compel me. I don’t need hockey to have Thorne. I fear I never did. “What would I do?” I say. Who am I without hockey? I… hockey and my Pack is all I have.
“You’ll figure it out; you always do.”
“Good morning,” Noa says, her voice all low and soft as she and Havoc enter the kitchen. She’s dressed in one of my shirts and, hot damn, she’s all ours.
“Good morning, hotcakes,” I say, grabbing her arm and slamming her into me. I need a hug more than anything right now. She’s already tilting her head to meet my lips, and I graciously accept her lips against mine.
Breaking away, Havoc tries to slide past me, but I grab him, too. He’s too much of a mountain to slam into me, so I go to him. Kissing him, hoping he can tell through my kiss where we stand with everything that went down.
He’s mine just as much as Thorne and Noa are. I need him to know that. His brown eyes peer down into mine, freaking giant, and I see the tiniest smile known to man grace his lips. It’s enough for me to let him sit on the other side of Noa’s seat.
He should know that, through the bond, we don’t think any differently of him.
“Feeling better?” I ask Noa, who slides onto the island stool next to me.
“Exhausted, but so happy to have spent my heat with you guys,” she says, a light blush taking over her face that I just want to bite off. She’s just so damn cute.
“I loved spending your heat with you. I’d do it allagain right now, if I could,” I say, kissing the tip of her nose.
