"Get on with it! We don't have a great track record for surprises," Wyatt called out.
Aver sat down beside me, and I leaned into him, snuggling under his arm as Branson pulled a sheet of paper from his back pocket.
"You all know that with Hollister's help, I opened the safe under my bed, finding stacks of letters my father had written me." We hadn't had an abundance of downtime for a while, but when Branson did have an extra moment at home, he could always be found reading from the stacks of letters he'd been gifted from the past.
"Is it true? You're adopted?" Nash asked.
"Hush, you two," Julie scolded her sons.
"This letter was different from the others," Branson said, letting his thumb rub almost affectionately over the white paper. "This one he mailed to himself. It was in the stack, unopened but with the words For my Son written on the back."
He flashed the envelope and the message written in neat cursive.
"But it wasn't really for me. Not only, anyway. It's for all of us. I think."
"All of us?" I asked with a frown.
He couldn't also mean me. Patrick Walker had died when I was a child, very near, if not on the same day that my biological parents had died. In the bustle of pack problems and relationship drama, we hadn't had a lot of time to wonder about the coincidences and similarities of how we'd each found the other. I wasn't alone in feeling like me being here had been predestined. The others felt the same.
"I think it will be easier if I just read it," he said, lifting the letter. "To my son, Branson, and his cousins, Aver, Nash, and Wyatt, I'm sorry.
"I watched the four of you play today, and I fear it is the last time I'll see such a thing. I know this pack will witness the end of me. Whether that day is in many years, or not, my time will come to an end, and every eye will look to you four.
"If only I could live forever and spare each of you the heartache that I know lies in your futures. But as the moon wanes, every Alpha must, one day, relinquish control. On that day, try to remember moments like the one I was lucky enough to witness today. You are family and each other's best friends. Though you sometimes prefer making each other cry more than anything else, you carry a bond, and though others in your life may try to weaken that bond, I pray that you will always recognize it. Turn to one another. No one will understand you like your cousin can." Branson took a deep breath. The words from his father, spoken aloud, had a spell-like effect.
Aver wiped the tears from my cheek. I hadn't noticed I was crying. I wasn't the only one. Julie's plate was forgotten, and she leaned into her son, Wyatt, one arm comforting his mother while he held his mate with the other.
"But you cannot thrive alone. When it comes time to find a mate, choose wisely, sons. But since I know better than most how difficult that can be, I will make a wish to help you along. I wish for you to not only find your souls but for your lives to be blessed. May your mates be honest and brave. May they be healers and capable of miraculous things. And, may they be fearless and bold. They will need to be to handle you four. Whatever you do, do not settle as I did. Find your soulmates. If you do nothing but that, you will have won. No one can harm the spark that burns inside each of you. You will go on to do amazing things, I know it. But you will also face hardships. When you do, remember truth, hope, faith, and love will always see you through."
Branson let the magic of the words linger in the air like a spell. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. "The letter is dated June twenty-first."
"Our birthdays," Riley whispered. "Can it be a coincidence?" Riley didn't sound like he believed it was.
I turned to Aver, his warm eyes waiting as he stared at me like I was the miracle. "Didn't he die the same day your parents did?" Aver asked gently. "Isn't that the day most of you remember experiencing your powers for the first time? Coincidence? No."
He sounded so sure. I wished I could sound as sure. Could Patrick have been the one to start this whole crazy ball rolling? Had the gentle wish of a man I'd never met be the reason I could do what I could do?
"It's unbelievable," I whispered.
"That may be, but I don't know how else to explain it." Branson went to his mate, sinking down to sit on the lawn. Bran climbed into his lap and sat so he faced forward.
A little Walker if I ever saw one.
"I wished there was a way to thank him," Kansas said, absently petting Mr. Boots. "Even though my powers felt like a burden, they brought me here, to you guys. I can only look at what I do as a gift now because of that."
Aver slipped his hand in mine. "We can," he said gravely. "We'll thank Patrick by helping to create the pack he always wanted. One without backstabbing and melodrama. One where anyone is welcome and all are accepted."
"Even Aver," Nash added as if he was being generous.
I smirked, glad that even in a moment like this, when we were faced with a cosmically insane scenario, they could still joke. I stood silently, retrieving Autumn from her crib. She didn't wake up for longer than it took her to snuggle back against my shoulder. I didn't normally like disturbing her when she slept, but right then, I'd needed her in my arms.
Kansas seemed to have felt the same. He retrieved Calvin, sinking back down to sit next to his mate. At the same time, Madison and Patrick noticed all the other children were getting attention, so they decided they wanted some too. Each took a lap of one of their parents, and for a few seconds, we just sat there, embracing the best things to ever happen to us.
"To Patrick," I whispered as the others repeated in unison.
"To Patrick."
The End
Hero: Wolves of Royal Paynes
Mercenaries. Outcasts. Alphas.
Knox knows all the five of them have left now is each other. That, and the driving desire to find who had slaughtered their pack and make that person pay.
But investigating a tragedy with only rubble as evidence requires money and time. Knox can find one and use it to buy the other. They may be the last remaining members of their once thriving pack, but they are no strangers to taking the types of jobs that would keep lesser men awake at night.
Finding and returning some young punk to his rich, asshole father shouldn't be all that difficult.
Jazz Whitten lives as he likes, always. Since leaving home when he was young, he's operated under a single rule, never stay where you aren't wanted. Using his unique ability and the sleight of hand he's perfected over the years, life as a fugitive isn't that bad. It's lonely at times, but freedom is more important than companionship.
But when Jazz comes head to head with the latest team hired by his father, he forgets his one rule. He knows it is money, not affection that keeps the team on his tail. Their leader, Knox, is merciless and focused,but there's something else about the man. It isn't his kindness—Knox is a brute and unfortunately for Jazz, he's smart too—but Knox radiates a type of pain that Jazz is all too familiar with.
Jazz is as slippery as he is sexy and it takes every trick Knox knows to catch up with him. But when he does, how will the stone-cold mercenary ever give him up?
Hero is the first book in the Wolves of Royal Paynes series. It is an action-packed, swelteringly hot, mpreg romance that introduces a world of intrigue, mystery and magic. For maximum enjoyment, this series should be read in order.