“You can come too as long as you divulge no more of my secrets,” I tell him.
Attie pouts slightly. “We can’t keep secrets here. You know this. So beware and be very afraid.”
I shove at him, and he chuckles as we make our way from his trailer toward the small path that leads into town. The first time I came here with Attie, we were both twenty-one. He was looking for a pack to take him in, and I was along for the ride. Attie has never made the best decisions, and I was there to make sure he wasn’t throwing himself to literal wolves.
After meeting everyone and going through an extensive interview process, they invited him to settle in. I stayed with him for a year, living in that small trailer, sleeping on the worn couch. At that time, I went through a few heats, fucked a few of the alphas, and got to know some of them as friends. But I knew I couldn’t stay here forever. I needed to leave.
And one day I realized my time was up.
My life was calling to me. My future. I couldn’t live with Attie on his couch forever. I’d been relying on him for too long.
After leaving, I only came back to see my brother and go through my heats. I got a reputation as a flash-mate, cutting and running after the first night.
It left the alphas wanting more, but I had none to give.
“Isn’t our town pretty?” Attie asks, looping his arm through Glenn’s and sweeping his other hand out in front of him. “It’s a work of art.”
I stare at the dilapidated buildings, one with just the bottom half of the siding painted. It’s never been much, and over the years, it’s fallen apart slowly.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” I say, and Attie grins.
“Fuck you. I painted that one, by the way. Look at those strokes. So even and nice.”
“They’re literally lopsided, and I see a handprint right there,” Glenn says, and Attie tweaks his nipple.
“Fuck off with that. It is perfection. People call me Picasso. I’m known as a bit of a visionary.”
I roll my eyes at that. “I know for a fact that isn’t true.”
Attie steps away and waves at someone lingering on a crooked porch. “Hey! Let! Admiring my work?” Attie turns toward us. “This is the town hall. See that paint job? All me.”
I see the drip marks on the wood planks and bite back a pained smile. Gods, Attie is a fucking mess.
Let ignores my brother, which makes him grumble under his breath, but he catches my gaze, and his lips turn up in a smile.
“That Arbor?” Let asks no one in particular and then stands up, moving down the steps toward me. I feel Glenn shift closer to me, his fingers curling into my hip once more.
“Sure is. My bro is here to visit me. And this is hislover, Glenndolyn.”
“It’s just Glenn,” Glenn murmurs, but Attie ignores him, humming under his breath as Let gets closer.
“You’re pretty enough to be a Glenndolyn,” Let says, his eyes moving up and down his chest.
That makes something inside me twist. Apparently, it’s my turn to feel possessive.
“Fuck off with the flirtation,” I hiss as Let comes to a stop in front of me.
“Yeah, all right, but good to see you,” he tells me, his voice soft before he meets Glenn’s stare. “Forest said he was bringing his brother this weekend. You the same as him?”
“’Course he’s not!” Attie cries out and stumbles into Let, who props him up with a hand to his shoulder. “Glenndolyn uses my bro as a hole. But I’m the same as Forest, Let. Just not an alpha. Just a sad little shaman with magical abilities who likes to bend over.”
I sigh, closing my eyes. “Gods, you sound desperate.”
“I am, so sue me.”
I shake my head in resignation. Attie has been nothing but unapologetically himself. I really have no reason to feel embarrassed for him. He can do that all on his own.
Let’s gaze pins me, sharp and searching. He glances at Glenn, then back to me, like he can’t decide where to land. He’s the quiet type, brooding. Always thinking too much. Always holding secrets in his mind.
