Page 28 of Cupid's Pack

I carefully pick my way across the creek behind them. I could rush across faster than all three of them, having done this crossing more times than I can count, but I wait to let them all cross safely first instead.

I’m steps away from the pack’s side of the bank when the sight of two familiar figures picking through the tree line toward us catches my attention. It only takes half a second for my hazy brain to realize who is pulling to a stop, taking in the sight of us.

Their surprise appearance startles me, though, making me lose my balance on a particularly precarious rock. I go splashing sideways into the water, spluttering as I get a face full of dirty creek water. I stand, shaking the water from my fur in agitation—the creek smells sulfurous due to the years of coal mining in the region, and I hatesmelling like it.

Quinn shifts into human form and scrambles toward the creek, eyes wide with something between shock and concern. “Are you okay?” she asks, breathless as she crouches and reaches a hand toward me.

Stay back, I warn her. I don’t want her panicking and ending up in the water as well. The water itself isn’t so dangerous, but one wrong fall in here could leave you with twisted limbs, a broken leg, or even a concussion—it’s easy to go down hard in the creek and get seriously hurt. Under the wrong conditions, I’ve watched it take out a few wolves who were experienced in crossing it.

I shift into human form since I’m so close to the bank. Luckily, I’m okay aside from a couple of scratches on my arm. I toss my bag onto dry land, and then Quinn’s. Thankfully, they’re only slightly damp; I would be mortified if I soaked all of her things after insisting on carrying them for her.

Still, I’m pretty damn embarrassed, and my gut churns with trepidation as I climb out of the muddy water and turn toward the two people I was hoping to delay a face-to-face with. They strike an imposing picture, the muscled Alpha and his softer Luna staring at a humbled group before them.

“Hi, Dad. Hi, Tia,” I start, fighting the urge to dig my heel into the soft earth of the creek bank and rock back and forth. I gesture toward the others as Tia’s eyebrow arches toward her hairline. “Do you think my friends could stay the night?” I ask jokingly as if I’m still a kid.

For a long moment, Dad studies Mason. I know he recognizes him on sight, but he doesn’t say a word. He does offer him a nod, which feels about as good of a sign as we can expect to get after a surprise like this. He looks at me again, his eyes taking in my soaking wet hair plastered to my head. He throws his head back with a groan and turns on his heel, disappearing into the trees that lead into town.

Tia shakes her head, gray-streaked brown hair bouncing around her shoulders. A small smile pulls at her lips as she jerks her thumb over her shoulder in the direction Dad left in. “It’s a good thing I like your father’s gray hairs. Welcome to the Cross Mountain Pack, everyone.”

TWELVE

QUINN

It’s weird feeling comfortable here.

Mason’s hand rests on my leg under the table as he regales his dad and stepmom with stories about being raised with his mom’s pack. From what I can tell, Ian and Mason’s childhood stories seem to be pretty similar.

Nature seemed to win out versus nurture when it comes to the twins.

Willem sits on my other side, his chair pushed so close to mine that our sides are plastered together and I rub my arm against his every time I reach for my drink. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol in the sangria Tia made for us or the physical contact that’s making me hot under the collar of my shirt.

Mason finishes a story about crashing his bike—which I’ve barely paid attention to—and slides his hand another inch up my leg. He’s starting to creep awfully high up my thigh. Heat builds in my belly, and I fight the urge to twist in my seat.

What are you doing?I ask silently, careful to keep my facial expression blank so no one suspects us of mind linking.

Ian carefully dodged his dad’s questions about who I am and where I came from. I know the man is suspicious because every few minutes he frowns at me like I’m a troublesome crossword puzzle. There’s a part of me that knows he must have figured out about at least one of my mate bonds—it would be impossible not to—but I think the truth might be that he recognizes all three and likely doesn’t know what to think of the situation or how to address it.

Their dad has been a perfectly kind host, with Tia easing the most uncomfortable lulls in conversation, but I’m counting down the minutes until it’s polite to get up from the dinner table. I’m grateful to them for feeding us good, Southern food for a very late dinner, but I’m worried about slipping up.

And Mason’s hand on my upper thigh isn’t helping matters.

I fake an exaggerated yawn and give Ian a pointed look.

“I know there’s a lot still for the four of us to talk about,” Ian sidelines the casual conversation while indicating to his twin and their parents. “Do you think we could put Willem and Quinn up for the night in the guest cabin? It was a long trip to get here. Mason can join them after we’ve talked.”

“Of course!” Tia pops up out of her seat before their dad can respond. The dark-haired beauty is elegant and graceful in the way you expect of Southern women, but there’s something comforting and… homey about her too. She’s soft with Ian, and she dotes on their more stern father. It’s easy to see how they fit together, though I can’t help but wonder how they found one another. “Come with me, you two. I’ll get you all sorted out.”

Mason squeezes my thigh one more time before releasing me. Willem stands first, moving his chair out of the way before he offers me his hand to help me up like a gentleman. It’s a good thing, too, because I wobble on unsteady legs for a second before catching my balance. I’m feeling off-kilter from the strong drink.And hormones, my wolf adds helpfully.

Willem releases my hand once I’m stable, and I find myself missing his touch immediately. Being touched with casual affection and care is beyond nice. It’s not something I’ve ever had before, and I’m getting too easily used to it.

My entire dating history involves a few embarrassingly bad double-dates with Indie that she begged me to go on. Nothing more, nothing less. There’s never been a spark, and I’ve never been interested in anything other than the potential of finding my fated mate. And now I’m in the Appalachian Mountains with three of them.

On top of that, my wolf feels as alive as she ever has when one of the guys touches me. It’s a far cry from her reaction to Jakob, and that makes me want to lean into rather than question it. Our judgment can’t be too skewed as long as Jakob doesn’t appeal to either part of me.

That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.My wolf sniffs, offended I could ever doubt her certainty of the bonds.

I think tiredness is also kicking in. As Tia leads us out of the main house, it takes me a minute too long to realize she’s talking to me. “I’m so sorry,” I apologize, looking at her expectant expression as she slows on the threshold.

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