He handed the phone to Dylan.
“Hello?” Dylan said, his voice shaky.
“Have they treated you well?” Ryker asked, his rumbling voice brimming with emotion.
“Yes,” Dylan said, making Marcus give him an approving nod. “They just took my phone.”
“How do you feel about Marcus’s plan?”
Marcus narrowed his eyes at him and Dylan swallowed.
“I like Steve,” he said, the only part of the plan that mattered to him. He didn’t understand enough about werewolf politics to know whether the rest of it was a good idea or a shitshow.
“That’s the important bit,” Ryker said. “Hold on, I’ll let you talk to August.”
Dylan didn’t get a word in before the phone had passed hands and August’s voice was in his ear.
“Hey, Dylan. How are you holding up?”
The question made Dylan feel like he was about to burst into tears, but he held it in. “I’m okay,” he said, wishing August and Ryker were there with him. Marcus seemed like his intentions were good, but he was altogether too terrifying.
He wanted his alphas.
“We’ll have you home in no time,” August said. “You just need to hang in a little bit longer while Ryker and Steve’s brother nail down the details.”
“I can do that,” Dylan said, feeling calmer. He took a deep, fortifying breath. “How are you and Ryker?”
August laughed, but it was an exhausted sound without any humor in it. “We were pretty worried for you there, but Steve assured us that Marcus wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
The way August spoke the words turned them into a question.
“He didn’t,” Dylan confirmed.
Marcus’s father had grabbed him and menaced him into submission, but he hadn’t harmed him.
“That’s good.” August hummed and then came back with a question. “Ryker wants to know, how often will we have to participate in pack runs?”
“Twice a year,” Marcus said. He rose to his feet and bent down, picking up the broken table and stacking the pieces on top of each other. “We have private jets, so it’s not as big of a hassle as you might think. Besides, our full moons are a lot more comfortable than yours, as I’m sure Steve has told you.”
August huffed derisively. “He might have mentioned something about heated cabins and bringing meat from the grocery store.”
The comment made Marcus laugh. “It’s true. We like our creature comforts.”
“Is your pack very rich?” Dylan asked, pulling his feet back when Marcus picked up a piece of the table by his chair. He didn’t really associate werewolves with private jets, though the house and town he was in now spoke of quite a great deal of wealth. He hoped that the question wasn’t inappropriate.
Marcus smirked, standing up and putting the pieces of the table on the counter before turning to face him.
“We own a number of businesses, including the company funding your master’s degree.” Dylan’s brow drew up in surprise. “We also have an investment stock portfolio worth almost a billion dollars. And to answer Ryker’s other question, no, he and August would not have to hand over their practice and investments, though they would be expected to contribute twenty percent of their income to the pack’s investment fund.”
“That’s normal,” August said, reluctantly defending Steve’s pack to Dylan as though he’d challenged the number. “A little on the high side, but not outrageous.”
“We’re very reasonable,” Marcus agreed.
Dylan heard Ryker talking to August in the background, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying.
“Dylan, can you put Marcus back on the phone?” August said, sounding distracted. “Ryker wants to talk to him.”
“Okay,” Dylan said. He handed the phone back to Marcus, who held it up to his ear with an expectant look on his face.
