Prologue
Sunshine
Nothing says family bonding like a corpse parked between the china cabinet and a dessert table.
No one speaks as we pick at our lukewarm food. You would think it’s because we’re in mourning, hence the dead body in the room, but really, it’s because my mom threatened my brothers and me with a wooden spoon if we couldn’t stop fighting. But I swear to the gods, if Chad kicks me under the table one more time, I’m going to lose it.
Uncle Jeremiah, a.k.a. the corpse in the casket, was my father’s only brother, and the family’s only omega other than me. That’s why we were dragged all the way across the country intothe buttcrack of Louisiana to some gargoyle lawyer's house for the reading of the will.
This is all such a waste of my time.
I just finished my supervised apprenticeship, and I need to go out and look for a job so that I can make money and build a future, not sit in uncomfortable silence mourning a man none of us ever met. He never called, or wrote, or acknowledged our existence at all.
However, Dad is ahardcore traditionalist. Blood is blood, apparently, so now here we are.
Why he forced all of us to come with him, I’ll never understand. It’s not like anyone but my oldest brother has a chance of inheriting anything. Somewhere along the line, someone decided that the eldest alpha inherits the legacy while everyone else politely rearranges their lives around them without complaint. I am no alpha, so… yeah. No point.
My oldest brother, Joseph, is the only one whomightneed to be here. Even that’s a stretch, because my dad is still alive and healthy, with his Botox-filled face and box-dyed hair.
Got to keep that image perfect. Can’t have people judging us for any reason other than the perfect funerals and raises we make happen.
I know I sound like an asshole, but it’s late, and there’s no coffee. Sue me.
My family isn’t actuallythatbad; they’re just… emotionally stunted and completely unsure of what to do with the omega runt.
Hi. I’m the omega runt. In case you missed that small detail.
All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is to get out from under my father’s thumb. Start a career I love and know I’m good at. Preferably, one far enough away that my family can’t interfere while I figure out who I am. I don’t need everyone standing at the edges of my life, silently judging my choices.
So, yeah. Either my dad will get everything, or Joseph will. My other brothers and I congratulate him with fake smiles.
Except for Chad. He’s an asshole to everyone except Dad.
Twenty-two minutes into dinner, the grey lawyer clears his throat obnoxiously, effectively interrupting nothing. Just Chad and his pointy foot connecting with my shin while my mom glares at us to cut it out.
My dad’s heavy silverware clinks against his plate. He rises elegantly, dabbing his mouth with a white linen napkin. My mom looks up at him as if he personally hung the moon and arranged the stars.
I choke back a gag threatening to break free.
Dad divorced his first wife after he met my mom. They were fated mates. Romantic right? Except he already had five sons. Five sons who vividly remember their mother crying at the dinner table while he broke the news.
I was born into the fallout about four months after their mating ceremony.
You do the math.
My half-brothers don’t take it out on me much, though I wouldn’t blame them if they did. Their mother didn’t deserve what happened any more than I deserved to be born into the fallout.
Fate can be cruel. Constantly playing jokes on us for the enjoyment of the all-powerful gods who adore the drama.
Chadwick Michael Graves trips me, and I catch myself on the edge of the casket. He chuckles while Mom glares.
I take it back. All of my half-brothers, except for Chad, are fine. He is the biggest douche to ever douche in the history of douching. Even my dad doesn’t trust him to make good decisions. Chad’s sole responsibility is digging graves while he lives at home with mom and dad. They had the basement remodeled after he got kicked out of his last apartment.
Chad sneers as we all take our places. I’m squished between Mom and my brother Gray.
“You may begin,” the gargoyle lawyer states, adjusting the video camera to record the raising.
My dad nods, always formal and polite. “Please join hands,” my dad commands, his emotionless voice booming.
