To undo their bond.
I shake my head, not wanting to think about that. I wasn’t around a lot, working far too much at the time, but I remember how sick Skye was after it, how much I hated this pack and the people in it for allowing him to go through with it. I know it was ultimately his decision, but still.
It angers me that it was even allowed. A fucking dangerous practice, if you ask me.
I drive us down the unpaved road, Forest perking up more the farther into the compound we get. His eyes swivel back and forth, landing on the alphas that step out onto the creaky patios as we pass.This place is a shithole, I think.
Not anywhere I want to be.
“Who’s the pack leader?” I ask Forest, wondering if they’ll appear to greet us.
“Never met him. Name’s Zed, though, so if you run into him while you’re here…”
“I’ll make sure to let you know.”
He rolls his lips between his teeth. “Just so you know, everyone here has a three-letter name, so it can get confusing, but…” He lets out a soft exhale when he sees someone jogging alongside the car. “Sometimes…some make more of an impression than others.”
“Who’s that?” I ask, taking in the lean man with shaggy hair and ripped jeans.
“Jex.”
“Seems to like you. Can’t stop staring.”
“Yeah,” he says and then points his hand forward. “Anyway, Attie’s place is just up here.”
Attie? That name rings a bell, and I try to figure out why, but as I approach, I see a familiar car and those butterflies I had earlier when thinking about Arbor take a slight nosedive.
“What the fuck?” I murmur as I park the truck, and Forest hops out.
Jex, the alpha who was pacing us as we drove, moves in on my brother, pushing him up against the car and running his nose up his neck. Forest’s cheeks redden, but he doesn’t push him away.
I turn my head away and glance at Arbor’s car sitting right there in the drive, next to the small trailer on the far end of the compound. As I approach, I see odd little trinkets hanging in trees. Runes and doll heads, and I’m pretty sure that’s a dildo.
Why the fuck is Arbor here? Did he follow me?
I ponder that when I hear a laugh from inside. His laugh.
My feet carry me forward, and I push the door open to the old trailer. The laughter stops, and I catch sight of him. Radiant, glowing. And he’s sitting right near the shaman.
Attie.
Oh.
Attie.
The stepbrother. No, the foster brother. The one he told me about.
My eyes take Attie in—backwards baseball cap, shirtless, a large wolf tattoo across his right pec, and a moon over the other.
Well, at least he’s wearing pants. I stop in the doorway, unable to speak, but needing Arbor to know I’m here. His gaze turns toward me.
“Oh!” Arbor says, his mouth opening and closing, as surprised as I am. “Why are you here? Did you follow me?”
“Thought the same thing,” I murmur, my gaze moving to Attie, who is sipping on some beer, his lips twitching slightly. “But then I realized this is your brother.”
“Damn right I am,” Attie says and then stands up. “You must be Glenn. The alpha Arbor hasn’t shut up about.”
“Oh my gods, Attie. Fuck you.” Arbor looks at me sheepishly. “I wasn’t talking that much about you.”
