Bruce and Cain stepped back, nodding at Marcus before turning around and leaving Dylan to his fate.
“Come inside,” Marcus said, opening the door wider and gesturing for Dylan to step through. “Shoes off, please.”
Dylan hesitated, looking through the doorway and peering into what looked to be an apartment. He couldn’t see the source of the jovial baritone, and somehow that was more intimidating than if he’d been standing in plain sight.
“This way,” Marcus said, a little more firmly. Dylan stepped across the threshold, leaning his hand against the door as he kicked off his shoes. Marcus grabbed his shoulder to steady him, but he lifted his hand away when he felt Dylan flinch.
“Has my brother mentioned me?” Marcus asked, taking a step back. Dylan shook his head, too frazzled to remember whether or not Steve had mentioned anyone in his family beyond his father.
A younger brother, maybe?
“Oh.” Marcus looked disappointed, and Dylan almost felt bad. “It’s been a weird time for him, I guess. Follow me into the living room. My dad wants to speak to you.”
Dylan walked with him down the short hallway, turning right into a large living room where a man was waiting for them on the couch. He had one leg propped up on the coffee table in front of him, a laptop balanced on his thigh, his attention wholly focused on the screen.
He held up his hand. “Just one second, guys, I’m almost done.”
Dylan and Marcus stood by the door, waiting, giving Dylan the chance to study the man who had to be the alpha of the Northwestern pack.
He didn’t look old enough to be Steve or Marcus’s dad. There was a touch of gray in his hair and in his beard, which was clipped short to show off the shape of his jaw, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and on his brow were too deep for him to pass as being in his twenties, but Dylan wouldn’t have guessed that he was older than his late thirties.
He didn’t look that much older than Ryker, which made Dylan wonder how old Ryker and August actually were.
He’d never asked. He’d just assumed that they were in their thirties.
“Three more seconds,” the man said, typing one-handed and looking very focused. Then, with a wide grin, he slammed his laptop shut and tossed it on the couch next to him, rising up and advancing on Dylan like he was his long-lost friend. His grin was wide, his arms open in welcome, and he looked every inch the welcoming host. “And I’m done. Now, let me get a look at you.”
He grabbed Dylan by his shoulders, ignoring his flinch and holding him at arm’s length as he looked him up and down.
Like his sons, Steve’s dad was tall – standing at least six-foot-nine – and built like a stack of bricks. He was wearing jeans and a button-down shirt, and Dylan had to keep his eyes up to avoid staring at the prodigious bulge snaking its way down his thigh.
“You’re just adorable, aren’t you?” Steve’s dad said, enthusiastic and terrifyingly sincere. He ruffled Dylan’s hair. “I can see why Steve wants to keep you.”
Dylan cringed, though he tried to suppress it, and Steve’s father sighed.
“I know, I tricked you into coming here.” He rubbed Dylan’s shoulder, putting a hand on his upper back and steering him to an armchair next to the couch. He pushed him down, making him sit. “And I’m sorry about that, I really am. When William told me that Steve had an omega – and an omega he shared with two alphas who aren’t in my pack – I knew that I had to act fast.”
“You could have acted a little slower,” Marcus said, his tone annoyed. He shot Dylan a pained smile. “Dylan, this is my father, John Miller. He’s the alpha of the Northwestern pack. Dad, this is Dylan, the graduate student you had Bruce and Cain kidnap.”
John frowned. “I have been remiss, haven’t I? Not even introducing myself.” He held out his hand and grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Dylan.”
Dylan stared at the offered mitt, reluctantly reaching out his fingers and placing them inside John’s grip. John’s hand was huge, wrapping around Dylan’s fingers and squeezing down gently.
“Can I go home, please?” Dylan asked, the question slipping out before he could think better of it.
John smiled. “Of course you can, once we’ve sorted everything between Steve and your other two alphas. Ryker Sterling and August Schaffer, right?”
Dylan nodded.
“They’re an impressive pair. In fact, I was quite surprised to learn that the Phoenix pack had let an alpha like that slip through their fingers. He would have been a contender to take over as pack alpha. Do you know why he decided to leave instead of staying and trying to take over?”
Dylan shook his head. Ryker and August hadn’t talked much about their pack, but they didn’t seem to have any bad feelings toward it.
“No, they never mentioned.”
“Well, I’ve done a little digging and I’ve been assured that there’s no scandal. It’s a strange situation.”
Dylan didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed quiet.
