There were a few more articles about him, but nothing sensational—and it was all in the local papers. None of the national news outlets seemed to have written about him.
Feeling masochistic, Peter visited his sister’s Instagram account. Neither she nor his uncle had contacted him after setting him up, and Peter was morbidly curious about what she was up to. Could she possibly be living life like normal after what she’d done to him?
Apparently, she could. The most recent post on his sister’s profile was just a day old, posted at eleven a.m., showing her on a beach grinning widely at the camera over the rim of a mojito.
She looked tan and happy.
What a bitch.Scrolling down his sister’s feed, Peter was faced with a whole litany of pictures of his sister on what seemed to be a never-ending vacation.
She was smiling in all of them—even one taken on the day that Peter was sentenced.
Peter had always known that his sister was a cold-hearted bitch, but he’d thought she loved him.
He was obviously wrong.
It wasn’t until he put the tablet away that Peter realized he’d been crying, and all of a sudden, Peter’s misery morphed into rage.
How dare she?
How dare she live her life like it was one big party after what she did to him?
Peter wished that there was something he could do to fuck up her life like she’d fucked up his.
But there wasn’t. Peter was far away from home, helpless, the property of two werewolves whom he was still trying to figure out.
Putting the tablet away, Peter turned on the TV and curled up on the couch. Mindless entertainment was just the thing he needed. Flipping through the channels, Peter eventually landed on a sitcom he wasn’t familiar with but that looked funny, and as he leaned back into the couch, he let his mind drift as he watched.
Some people volunteered for this, Peter thought with sudden incredulity. People who wanted to give up the responsibility of taking care of themselves in order to be mated to an alpha werewolf. Of course, they got to choose the alpha—or alphas, like in Peter’s case—but once they signed on the dotted line, there was no backing out.
Werewolves mated for life, and once they’d claimed an omega, that was it.
Of course, Peter hadn’t been properly claimed yet. He wasn’t sure exactly how it worked, but he knew that it involved biting.
Peter hoped that they gave him some warning before doing it. They wouldn’t just bite into him the first time they knotted him, would they? Peter couldn’t imagine that he’d enjoy that. Sex, sure—even if the size of Carver and Tex’s cocks was terrifying—but biting and blood and pain?
Those were not things Peter enjoyed.
Forcing himself to stop thinking about things that he couldn’t control, Peter let his mind go blank as he allowed himself to just watch the TV. The key to his new life, he decided, was to just go with the flow and take his pleasures where he could.
There was nothing else to it.
8
Tex
“So, what’s the plan when we get home?” Carver asked as they walked from the Chinese restaurant to Tex’s truck.
Tex climbed into his seat and put on his seat belt.
“I’m going to ask for a foot rub,” he said, knowing that the answer would piss Carver off. “I want to see if I can get him to suck my toes.”
“Tex, I’m serious,” Carver growled, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“I am, too.” Tex grinned at his mate. “Why? Do you think I should start with boot worship and then work my way up to bare feet?”
“You shouldn’t pressure him to do anything at all.”
Carver would have sounded more convincing if his cock wasn’t pitching a tent in his shorts.
