Patrick didn’t even look at him. “Bye.”
Riordan didn’t move, didn’t speak, until he heard the elevator descending toward the lobby. “Wade suggested I stay in the bedroom. I told him I wanted to meet you.”
Patrick never moved, staring at him with an intensity that Riordan, who’d lived for centuries, found mildly disconcerting. He knew Patrick was a mortal who’d fought against the gods of all the hells, championed by the ones in heaven, and survived the end of the world. But the world’s savior wasn’t who he stood before.
It was Wade’s pack, his family, his older brother.
And Riordan knew a thing or two about older brothers and siblings in general and just what they’d do in defense of their loved ones.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t toss you out the nearest window and see if you’re as good at flying as you are at swimming,” Patrick finally said in a tone of voice that didn’t—quite—promise murder, but it was close.
“Because I gave him my skin, and he keeps giving it back to me without hesitation, and he’s the only one I’ve ever trusted to do that. I don’t want to stop giving it to him.”
It was more than fixation at this point, and Riordan knew the only person who deserved to know that was Wade, but Patrick needed to know he didn’t mean Wade any harm. He’d sooner give up his skin forever and suffer all that entailed—the loss of his magic and the sea and his clan—than willingly hurt Wade.
He would never,everdo that to his mate.
Patrick finally blinked, and it felt as if Riordan could take a breath. The coffeepot beeped, signaling it was finished brewing, but neither of them moved.
“Wade told me about his past,” Riordan said quietly. “About the god that held him prisoner and what was done to him. You need to know I will never hurt him. I just want to keep him safe.”
I just want to love him, but Riordan didn’t say that out loud.
“I don’t know you, so you’ll have to deal with the fact that I won’t believe a word coming out of your mouth for, oh, let’s go with a few years if you stick around.” Patrick shoved away from the island and went to the coffeepot, casually putting his back to Riordan in a way that was utterly dismissive in seeing him as a threat, and Riordan decided to not take that personally. “Wade can make his own choices when it comes to relationships. We’ve always supported that.”
“But?” Riordan asked carefully.
Patrick found the mugs on the first try, taking one down to pour himself a cup of coffee but not bothering to pour one for Riordan. “You’re the first one he’s had since we took him in as pack. So you can bet your ass no one will find your body if you hurt him.”
If it was coming from anyone else, the threat would be melodramatic and laughable, but Riordan had no doubt that Patrick would commit murder for his pack and never feel anything but satisfied. Because that’s how Riordan would feel toward a threat pointed at his own siblings and clan. He was relieved that the New York City god pack appeared to operate in the same way. “I wouldn’t even fight back.”
“You wouldn’t get the chance.” Patrick turned around and leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee. Riordan wondered if he’d survive getting his own mug and then decided maybe waiting for Wade to return was the better option. “Wade knows better than to fly like he did yesterday, so you’re going to tell me what happened and if there’s any leftover threat I need to take care of while I’m here.”
Riordan knew Wade had been updating Patrick and his pack about what was going on in Boston, but he didn’t know all that had been said. So he started at the beginning, with Saoirse’s stolen skin and everything that had happened since. He was justfinishing up about how they’d all agreed to meet at the Boston god pack’s home that morning when Riordan heard the elevator rising. The doors pinged open a moment later, and three people exited it.
“Look who I found in the lobby,” Wade said as he made a beeline for them. He held three boxes of donuts in his hand, with a carton containing three to-go cups balanced on top of it. “Witnesses.”
“You act like that would stop me,” Patrick said.
“Benice. I like them.”
Saoirse and Donal trailed after Wade, both of them looking clean and well-rested after what Riordan hoped was a good night’s sleep. His siblings had bunked up with some of the clan who had returned to their homes now that the threat from Niall was taken care of. They still didn’t have a home to go back to, and that was a headache Riordan wasn’t looking forward to.
“Hello,” Saoirse said, tone a little questioning as she stared at Patrick.
“Saoirse, Donal, this is Patrick, one of Wade’s alphas,” Riordan said.
Saoirse’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Wade didn’t say you were coming.”
“Ididn’t know Patrick was coming,” Wade grumbled as he set the drinks and donut boxes on the kitchen island.
“I would have flown home to New York if we didn’t have to deal with a dragon sighting in Boston.” Patrick glanced at Wade before taking an interest in the array of donuts left after Wade had clearly snacked on most of them. “General Reed is suppressing the news stories.”
“I’m not telling him thank you.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to. Hand me the old-fashioned donut.”
Wade passed one over, then picked up the chocolate bar that was Riordan’s favorite and walked over to hand it to him. “Here. I saved you this one.”
