Chapter One
Aver
I kept to the shadows. Standing. Watching. Waiting. The black concrete glistened from the evening rain. The drops had stopped, but this was Seattle, so it was only a matter of time before they fell again.
Shedding the mask of my day-to-day life wasn't as difficult as it had once been. It dripped from me like blood from an open wound. At home I was Aver Walker, spineless son of two conniving parents. My cousins looked at me with pity. Their mates looked at me with pity. When I looked in the mirror, I saw only disgust. Who was this person?
What had started as vengeance had since transformed into something I didn't recognize anymore. My life felt like a huge mistake, like I'd gone to the store and had accidentally been given the wrong costume. When I was younger, I hoped the solution could be that simple as well. Just walk in and say, excuse me, I've been given the wrong life. My life is this one over here.
I wasn't young anymore. I'd observed enough of other people to realize they didn't have to pretend to be the people they were every moment of the day. That wasn't the status quo. Other people were who they wanted to be. Or they were stuck like me.
The person I really was, the Aver in my soul, had spent so long locked away, being set free was a process. There wasn't a personality switch I could flip. Transforming felt more like a series of locks, unboxing the real me took time. Like pulling out a favorite shirt that had gotten lost in the back of the closet. And once it was out, I couldn't wear two shirts. I didn't know how to take some of one and leave the rest. It was all or nothing.
Which was why I snarled when my phone chimed. I should have already turned the damn thing off—and I would—just as soon as I made sure there wasn't an emergency at home.
Branson, and everyone else back at home in Walker County, thought I was in Seattle to meet with a supplier. That wasn't a lie. I was. I had. Walker Construction officially had a new gravel, boulder, and stone provider and at rates that were cheaper across the board than what we'd seen with our original supplier. Today had been a successful day for the business Branson and I had built from the ground up, but right now, I didn't give two shits about it.
Still nothing, but then, my mother is too devious to leave the evidence needed to convict her laying out in the open.
Branson's mother had been taken in by the shifter council weeks ago. At first, it had looked like a slam dunk case. She'd been caught in the act of selling a blessed omega. Since then, Delia had done what Delia did best: wiggle out of tight spots. Ever since Branson had received a call from the representative tasked with presenting the case against Delia, he'd spent his extra time combing through the home he'd grown up in.
I found a floor safe under my old bed. Will the things I learn ever cease to freak me out?
It was an emotion the four Walker cousins shared. From the night we were asked by our parents to fight each other to the death, we'd ran and spent the following decade unpacking childhoods of baggage. When I was at home, in helpful, gentle Aver mode, I was all for listening and unpacking right along with him. But right now, that wasn't who I wanted to be.
Across the street, the entrance to the club had a line that wrapped around the block. This was the type of place where the young and sexy stood in line for hours hoping to get a taste of what was inside. I was at least ten years older than most the hopeful partiers, but that never mattered. Not for my purposes, anyway. I quickly typed and pressed send.
Crazy, man. I'll take a look when I get back.
Branson must have had his answer ready because he replied before I could turn the phone off.
I bet Nana would know the combination.
My heart squeezed like twisting the last bit of moisture from a towel. We all missed Nana, but she missed her dead son, and she wouldn't come back until she was finished with this stage of her grief. No one had thought we'd still be wondering where the woman was weeks after she'd left, but Nana wasn't as frail as most people were picturing. It was almost as if her absence had made people forget the tough-as-nails woman she'd been. I sent back a smiley face, growled at myself, and shoved my phone in my pocket after finally turning the damn thing off.
Yes, the conversation with Branson was important, but that wasn't who I wanted to be right now, and since I couldn't do both, I had to choose. Spineless, agreeable Aver was who I was most of the time, I could only be the alpha I felt within when I carved the time to get away. And that time was rapidly ticking by.
I rolled my shoulders back, shaking away the tension Branson's texts had tried to bring in. My breathing evened out, my lungs expanding and deflating at a steady, cautious pace. Normally, I kept my senses close to my body, but now, I let them run wild. The effect was like taking off sunglasses after a long day and realizing the world wasn't at all how you saw it.
I could hear and smell farther than that which was in my immediate area. There was a couple fighting in their apartment at the end of the block. At the far end of the street, a man ate a hotdog with relish and ketchup. I couldn't see him, but I could smell him.
Directly in front of me, the scents coming from the nightclub were enough to bring my alpha bounding out. Sweat-soaked skin, a relentless, pounding dance beat, and laughter.
I took the first step off the curb and crossed the street taking such wide steps I was on the other side before I finished exhaling. Those in the front of the long line eyed me. A few scowled, clearly upset that I believed myself more important than them.
I bypassed the line, stopping in front of the bouncer, Sai. The handful of times I'd been to this place before, Sai'd had no trouble keeping the masses back. He painted an imposing picture at seven feet with a body of solid muscle and a bushy beard as black as the waves of hair on his head.
"Mr. W, it's been a while." I never gave out my name other than Mr. W and always paid in cash. I didn't need anyone following a paper trail.
"Too long," I grunted. "What's it look like in there?"
He nodded. "Ripe. You picked a good night."
"Any night I get out here is a good night." I sounded arrogant, but I was fine with that. I wasn't back home where arrogance was a slippery slope.
I slipped Sai a folded hundred dollar bill. I wasn't stupid. I knew he was only so casual with me because I was one of the few people he'd met in his life who could kick his ass and because whenever I went out, I paved my road to a wild night with money.
I wasn't crying over it. The money was mine to spend. Walker Construction had been turning a profit for years, and there weren't a lot of home expenses. I didn't have a mate or child to spend my money caring for. I wasn't into fancy cars or any other habit—other than Lawrence—that would happily lighten my pockets.
This was my hobby.
I went out to the city, let loose, and blew a shitload of money in a single night. At the end of the night or the next morning—as the case usually was—I made sure to leave behind smiling, happy faces.
When it was time to go out again, I never chose the same lover twice, and I was always careful. Things were too messy otherwise, and no matter how much fun I had, no matter how free I felt, that part of me always needed to be shoved right back in the closet when the night was over. And, at least this way, I wouldn't accidentally get anyone pregnant—a worry we hadn't had to concern ourselves with until recently.