Then, as though just remembering something: “I have two more fathers. Al, I call him dad, owns a construction company and is the one who taught me to make furniture.” He pauses, a small smirk pulling at his mouth. “And then there’s Daniel. We all just call him by his name.”
“Why?” Lark asks.
“If you meet him,” Silas says, “you’ll understand.”
Yeah, she will. Unless it’s with his omega, Daniel Caron is not the warm, fuzzy type.
“Do they live nearby?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Silas says. “Just down the road. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take you.” He hesitates for half a second. “I just thought it would be best to wait until…”
He doesn’t finish it. Doesn’t have to.
Bonded.
The word drops into my gut and stays.
I focus on my food. Trying to forget I ever thought that word. To pretend like I’m not here. It doesn’t work.
“I know a little about your family,” she says gently.
My grip tightens around my fork. Here we go.
“But… what was she like?” she asks softly. “Your mom, I mean.”
Something snags in my throat. Fuck. I’m not going to cry around the kitchen island.
I cough. Buying myself a second. “She was my mom,” I say, shrugging like it doesn’t matter. “Not much else to say.”
That’s not true. There’s a lot to say. She worked doubles so I could play sports. She learned to cook every cuisine because I got bored of the same meals. She drove four hours round trip to every away game until I told her it was too far.
She went anyway.
I keep my eyes on my plate. “I didn’t have it like these two,” I add, nodding toward Graham and Silas. “Money was tight. School had to waive my sports fees half the time.”
No trust fund. No safety net. No backup plan. Just me and her.
I keep my eyes on my plate. “Worked out fine.”
I can feel her watching me. She wants to ask more. She doesn’t, though.
Good.
Graham shifts the attention away before it lingers too long. “What about your family?” he asks her.
She brightens again. “My parents had a smaller pack than Silas’s,” she says. “My mom, Vivian, was the omega. They were scent-sensitive, like us. Moved in together the first day they met.”
Silas huffs a quiet laugh. “That tracks.”
“My dad and Mama G, Gisele, were both alphas. They ran a shrimp import business.”
“Shrimp?” Graham makes a gagging face. He hates them so much that Silas and I had to promise to never eat them when he was around.
Lark chuckles. “Not my favorite either. I ate so many as a kid, I can hardly stand them now.”
Graham nods like that was the only acceptable response she could have made.
“But they were good to you?” Silas prods.
