Page 148 of Feral Alphas

Colt tells Kye to get into position so they can lift the solid desk out and maneuver it through all the hallways to his bedroom, and I not-so-subtly enjoy the muscles bunching in their shoulders.

Later, when I’m snuggled into Rose’s hip on the couch, with Zane on her other side and Uno spread over Colt’s lap while he tends his bond mark, Kye comes tearing out of his room, waving some sheet music. “What’s this?”

The moment I catch sight of the hand-written music scores, I smirk. “Probably some of his grandfather’s composing,” I reply, holding in my laughter.

Kye’s voice gets screechy in the way I quite enjoy. “This says Rephnelium on it.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh frick!” He goes pale under his dark skin. “TheRephnelium Nesters?”

“Colt’s grandfather,” I confirm with a grin. “Wondered how long it would take you.”

“Noisy bastard he was,” Colt says with disdain, taking a swig from his beer before stroking Uno’s head. “This house and the old furniture are all he left me.”

Kye screeches and rises on his tiptoes, both hands digging into his black hair. “This house? The one we tore apart to renovate? Holy fricks in gravy! This place is a heritage house, and we ripped walls out! You can’t sell that furniture! Ever!”

His voice shakes like he’s going to cry about it. “No one knew where he lived! We could restore it and give tours and—” He sticks his head out of the room to look at the iron bars of Uno’s cage and the half-mended hole in the wall and swears again.

“Still hating on the orange carpet?” I ask, sucking on the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing.

He drops his gaze to survey the disgusting carpet and his face goes through a range of emotions, from disdain to forced awe. “I mean, it’s growing on me,” he mutters.

“That’s probably the mold in it cos it’s so old,” Rose chimes in with a grin.

All I can do is laugh.

Kye paces like he’s got too much energy and shakes his hands at us. “For real? Did I pack up withtheNesters family?”

“And you’re getting his name. How’s that for a bonus?” Colt asks smugly.

Kye’s eyes widen, and he sputters squeaky noises without words. Suddenly he holds his hand out and lightly flaps the sheet music. “Guys, wait. I’ll flip out about the house and name later, but the desk has sheet music in it.”

“Makes good kindling,” Colt says harshly.

A spasm runs through Kye, and I swear he’s a millisecond away from levitating. “Go wash your dirty mouth out with soap, you fine-arts Grinch!” he demands, indignant.

Even Colt laughs at that. “Fine-arts Grinch? I like that one.”

I grin. “I’ll get you an ugly sweater with it, Sir.”

He chokes with laughter.

“Heathens!” Kye fumes. “You don’t understand. This is an unproduced composition! I mean, it’s not even finished.”

“Then you better finish it,” Colt says, going back to his beer.

Kye’s head snaps back. “What? Me?”

“Who better than the finest cellist in the world?” Colt says, not bothering to look his way. I can’t be sure because of the shadows, but I think Kye blushes at the compliment.

“But I can’t add to his work. He was a master!”

“Why not?” Colt throws him an arched-brow look. “I’m the executor of his estate, or what’s left of it. Maybe we can make some money off it since the bastard gave everything else to charity.”

“Some money?” Kye groans. “Do you really have no idea the cultural significance of this? The royalties alone will go through the roof.”

Kye looks like he’s gonna cry for real, so I jump in. “He’s perfectly serious that he wants you to finish the composition, Kye. Rephnelium raised Colt after his father skipped out and they had a love-hate relationship that Colt maintains after death as a source of pride. Please finish the composition in both your names and we’ll make a public announcement. Next year will be the thirtieth anniversary of his death, right, so how about you plan a memorial tour on behalf of the Rephnelium estate as well?”

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