Page 131 of Roaring Flames

“You were moaning, brother,” Emery says in a singsong voice.

“I didn’t know you were capable of sex dreams,” Ethan adds.

“I didn’t know you were capable of even dreaming,” Emery says. “Do robots dream?”

“Apparently this one does.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Feeling as if I have myself under control, I swivel around in my chair until I can see the two goons who have encroached on my territory.

The twins stand in the doorway, so close their shoulders are nearly touching. The sight gives me pause, mainly because they haven’t been able to even be in the same room as one another in months, let alone stand near each other.

“Your father sent us upstairs to get you,” Emery explains when he notices my narrowed eyes. “The party’s starting.”

“And Desiree is waiting for us downstairs,” Ethan adds softly.

All of our lips curl downwards at the reminder.

“Do we really have to pretend that we’re in a relationship with Desiree the entire night?” Emery runs a hand through his spiked blond hair.

Ethan lowers his head in shame.

“Just get the girl a plate of food and call it good,” I say dismissively, already returning to my work.

“You’re not coming down?” Emery asks.

“I’m busy.”

“You really should consider it,” Ethan says softly. “They plan to release Minnie’s wolf tonight. You should be here for that. We all should.”

He’s no doubt thinking about our future—ruling on the Council and helping to shape decisions for all shifters. It’s what we’re being trained for, after all. No other pack compares to ours in dominance.

“Just… Just give me a few minutes. I’ll be down in a second.” I begin to drum my fingers against the top of the desk.

There’s a beat of silence behind me, and I imagine the twins are exchanging an eloquent look that makes words unnecessary.

Once again, that pinch in my chest returns.

When was the last time they did that?

Months?

I tried to get them to talk shortly after the accident, but all of my attempts were futile. There was too much hate, anger, and grief between the brothers. I feared they would never forgive each other.

What changed between then and now? Why are they suddenly acting like brothers?

Izzy.

It has to be her.

I curl my hands into fists and allow my nails to bite into my palms. The sting of pain grounds me, if only momentarily.

I need to stop thinking about her. Now. I made my decision, and I have to live with it. And consequently live without her. I pushed her away, made her hate us.

But what else was I to do? She was an unknown variable, and I couldn’t allow her to disrupt my pack. What if she was a spy? A murderer? A Hunter?

My father told me once never to regret my decisions, that I made them for a reason, and that reason won’t ever change. I’ve held true to that philosophy my entire life.

So why do I feel like a sack of shit?

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