That explains the burning pain in my stomach.
“Where are the boys?” Elsie asks once she’s recovered.
Kitty lifts her nose, searching for a scent, but before she can respond, the energy shifts, the conversations stop, and everyone turns to watch the Crescent alpha and his beta enter the room.
They move in perfect sync. Steps coordinated, eyes scanning everything, radiating power so great I can feel it pressing on my skin.
For a brief moment, they appear rather formidable.
Damien, wider than a refrigerator and tall enough to grab a minotaur by the horns.
Elliot, dressed in his signature all-black outfit, sporting that lethal-looking stare.
Together, they more than justify their monikers—the Wolf and the Shadow.
If I didn’t know any better, I might be intimidated. But seeing as how I’ve watched them both strip down to their underwear and sprint into Lake Janua while laughing like schoolgirls, I have no choice but to boo as the surrounding heads bow.
“Booo,” I shout at them. “Boooo! Stand up!”
Kitty and Elsie join me, jutting their thumbs toward the floor.
“Booo!”
“Boooooo.”
Dame shakes his head, already wagging his finger at us.
“You’re not allowed to boo your alpha,” he says dryly, leaning against the counter.
“Good thing, you’re not my alpha,” Elsie fires back.
Dame blinks, seemingly confused by this response.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he is.
The way he mothers us all, you’d think Elsie and I were born with the Crescent mark on our backs, like the rest of them. But considering Elsie’s point, he redirects his irritation toward his sister.
“Fine,” he says, jutting his finger at Kitty. “But you’redefinitelynot allowed to boo your alpha.”
Kitty answers by blowing a raspberry in his face, and Elliot stifles a laugh, clearing his throat.
Dame’s hands clench into fists, and a low growl rumbles in his chest as Kitty squares her shoulders, a clear challenge in her eyes.
In moments like this, I’m reminded that Dame and Kitty aren’t just siblings but twins.
It’s easy to forget when they’re so different.
Not in appearance, of course.
They both share the classic Broussard eyes—wide and blue—and their coloring is similar. Dark, beige skin and tightly coiled sandy-blonde hair.
But since Dame always looks like he’s seconds away from tearing someone’s head off, and Kitty seems more likely to kiss everyone she meets, it’s easy to forget the close relation.
When it becomes clear neither of them will back down, Elliot steps between them, risking their wrath.
“Issue a challenge or shut up,” he directs.
To which they both snarl but make no move to recite the rites.
