Page 51 of Feral Alphas

I slump against the glass, strangely relieved to hear her voice. “I said no to the West brothers after the concert. Rather publicly.”

“Oh damn! Really?”

“Yeah.” I trace a raindrop as it merges with another and slides down the glass in a wobbly trail. “Are you going to give me shit about it too?”

Rachel hesitates, then sighs. “No. You’ve always known your own mind. I was surprised you hesitated this long, honestly.”

Yeah, that’s what being the heir to a conglomerate will do to you, mess up your compass. Ex-heir. “He said he was cutting me off. In some ways, it’s almost a relief.”

She snorts. “Well, if it means not coming back to exist under this black cloud, yeah, I bet it is. But no wonder he’s fritzing out, if he has no heir.”

“Is he really going off the deep end?”

“Yeah, but I called Scott and he’s with him now.”

I lean my heated forehead against the glass. Scott’s one of only two of my dad’s pack who stuck around after Mom died. It never seemed right to me, a pack breaking up, even if they were traumatized over their omega passing away. To me, a pack should live and die together. But Rachel always said I was a romantic living in an alternate reality thanks to too much study.

“He still has you,” I mutter.

She laughs thinly. “He’s not passing his pride and joy to a beta.”

My gaze follows the trails of car headlights blazing smudged paths on the streets far below. I know she’s right, because Dad’s an obnoxious prick. “You need somewhere to stay?”

Rachel whistles. “Wow, you’re being considerate? Maybe you really have grown up!”

“Shut up!” I scoff, and she laughs.

“Thanks, but I’ll hide in my room tonight and I’m heading upstate tomorrow.”

I close my hand into a fist. “Damn, I forgot college is restarting. Do you need me to drive you?”

“Um, seriously, who are you and what have you done with Kye?”

I snort. “Should I go back to being an asshole?”

“Yes please, you’re scaring me.”

The chill seeping through my forehead gives me a headache, so I jerk away from the window and move to the kitchen, flipping the glass kettle on. “Alright. You were clogging up the town anyway.Piss off back to your fingerpainting.” Actually, she’s a pretty good painter, and it made our dad mad beyond belief that both his kids pursued art. We take after our mother more than him.

She laughs properly, but for some reason the sound makes my heart squeeze. “Better. How was the concert?”

“Bit late to be asking now, isn’t it?”

“Better late than never.”

I snort with amusement. “It was good. Despite their ridiculous name, Cloud Nine barely stuffed up. Although apparently, we bored Brian witless.”

“Boo! Brian West can go take a long walk off a short jetty. I’m sure you were fabulous.”

A laugh escapes me. “I was.”

The line goes quiet, and I pull out a peppermint teabag and lift the kettle off the base at the first sign of a simmer. The mint fragrance hits my nose as the hot water stews the leaves.

I twitch when she speaks because I kind of forgot I was still on the phone. “You gonna be alright, Kye?”

I cup my hands around the mug. “I always am, Rachel.”

“I heard Dad say last week the Wests matched with an omega. He was sure you’d pack up after that news.”

---