Page 33 of Marked

Whether he knew it yet or not.

Marcus managed another hour of work, though his signature grew progressively more aggressive on each document. The quarterly reports from Stone Industries’ Seattle branch blurred before his eyes, his mind constantly drifting to honey-rain scent and sharp comebacks and delicate wrists.

He was gathering his things to head home when he remembered.

Caleb. Dinner. With their mate.

Their sneaky little brother had managed to wrangle alone time with Kai. His growl echoed off the antique wood panels as he stalked to his car.

The drive home took half its usual time, his wolf’s agitation making him press harder on the accelerator. The Stone estate appeared through the trees. Inside, the house hummed with evening activity. Tía Maria, their great-aunt who’d helped raise them after their parents’ deaths, directed the household preparations for dinner with her usual efficiency. Jorge’s cooking filled the air—their cousin was apparently stress baking again, if the towers of cookies cooling on racks were any indication. Next to them sat a separate tray of his special homemade dog treats, made with beef and herbs from his kitchen garden.

Shadow, sensing his master’s mood, appeared from nowhere to pad silently beside him as Marcus stormed inside, the massive black wolf-dog’s usual dignity somewhat undermined by the herb-flecked crumbs around his muzzle.

Derek lounged against the kitchen island, coffee in hand, watching the controlled chaos with amusement. His tactical gear was splattered with mud—and probably other things Marcusdidn’t want to identify—from his earlier “discussion” with the rival wolves.

“Seen Caleb?” Marcus demanded, not bothering with hello.

Scout’s guilty tail-tuck and immediate retreat behind Storm’s larger form answered before Derek could. The golden wolf-dog had always been terrible at keeping his master’s secrets.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you ask about Caleb?” He took a slow sip of coffee. “Usually, we’re trying to keep track of where he isn’t supposed to be.”

Maria tutted as she passed, muttering in Spanish about alphas and their tempers. A maid scurried past with fresh linens, giving them both a wide berth.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew their attention. Caleb appeared, and Marcus’ growl returned full force.

Their youngest brother was dressed to kill: designer jeans, a fitted button-down that emphasized his lean muscle, and that leather jacket he saved for special occasions.

“Going somewhere?” Marcus’ voice could have frozen hell.

Shadow positioned himself regally by Marcus’ side, while Storm maintained his guard position. Scout, caught between loyalty and self-preservation, attempted to make himself look smaller behind a potted plant that was clearly inadequate for the task.

Derek straightened, finally catching on. His own growl joined Marcus’. “Yeah, little brother. Hot date?”

“Just some business to handle.” Caleb’s attempt at casual was betrayed by their pack bond thrumming with anticipation and guilt.

“Business.” Marcus stalked toward the living room, expecting his brothers to follow. They did. “In your date night jacket?”

“The one you only wear when you’re trying to impress someone,” Derek added, closing the door behind them.

Caleb had the grace to look sheepish. “It’s just dinner. As thanks for fixing his car.”

Marcus’ eyes flashed crimson.

Derek’s snarl was impressive. “While I haven’t even gotten close to him yet? Just watching from the woods like some stalker?”

“Hey, I helped when his car broke down,” Caleb defended. “What was I supposed to do? He wanted to do something as a thank you.”

“You could have mentioned it to us.” Marcus advanced on his brother.

“Like you mentioned your plans today?” Caleb shot back, then caught himself at Marcus’ expression. “Wait, what did you do today?”

Derek’s laugh was dark. “Oh, our alpha brother had quite the day. Want to tell him, Marcus? About the coffee accident and lunch and lawyer visit?”

“You what?” Caleb’s jaw dropped. “When did—how did you—”

“Some of us are more efficient with our time,” Marcus said smoothly.

“Efficient?” Caleb sputtered. “That’s what we’re calling manipulation now?”

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