They laid like that for hours, Izzy crying and Kane doing what he could to comfort her and her unborn babies. Several times he begged her to let him go get Chris, but she wouldn’t allow it. She didn’t want her mate to see how bad her injury was, which was f**king ridiculous since everyone in the goddamn mansion knew how bad it was.
It wasn’t something that Izzy could hide, not with the way that she walked, the strain of pain around her eyes or the muffled cries that she tried to hide from all of them. Izzy wasn’t fooling any of them with the brave façade that she put on everyday. This pain was killing her and Kale honestly didn’t know how she was going to survive the next one hundred and seventy years left in her life like this. Hell, he didn’t know how he was going to survive seeing her like this for another minute.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Izzy said softly, speaking for the first time in hours.
After a slight hesitation, he decided that arguing with her would be pointless. She wanted to keep pretending that no one knew and for now he would allow her that delusion. “I won’t.”
“What in the hell is going on here?” the voice laced with murderous rage demanded, taking them both by surprise, which was saying a lot since he was an Alpha and nothing should be able to get by him.
As one they looked up and found Chris standing at the foot of the bed. The muscles in his arms and neck bulged as he glared their way, but a little to the right. Unable to help himself, Kale shot a look over to the right just as Izzy did, and took in the large pile of junk food and empty wrappers and knew that Izzy was in deep shit.
“It’s not what it looks like!” Izzy said, almost desperately as she tried to shift away from the evidence of her binge, but there was nowhere to go.
“Tell me that you didn’t feed my precious babies all that sugar,” Chris demanded as he crossed his massive arms over his chest, his glare shifting to Izzy, whom Kale suspected was trying to climb out of the bed and make a run for it, but her damaged hip and the twins she carried hindered her efforts to escape.
“I didn’t!” the little junk food addict lied.
“Then why are you in his bed?” Chris drawled, his glare never wavering from his panicked mate.
“For sex?” Izzy said, sounding hopeful as both men rolled their eyes.
“I cannot believe that you went behind my back and did this,” Chris said, sounding truly pissed as he moved around the bed and carefully scooped her up in his arms, throwing an accusing glare towards the massive pile of wrappers and junk food as he did it.
“B-but, I didn’t!” Izzy protested even as she wrapped her arms around her mate’s neck. “It was all Kale! He needed the energy for our marathon of sex!”
“Uh huh,” Chris said, clearly not believing her as he focused his attention on him.
“House meeting after patrol,” Chris simply said, obviously expecting to be obeyed, which was really f**king sad.
“Can’t,” Kale said, leaning over to pick through the remains of Izzy’s junk fest.
“Oh, I think that you can,” Chris drawled lazily.
“And why is that?” Kale asked, already planning on leaving in an hour for the job in Ontario that would bring him one step closer to his goal.
“Because we need your help hunting down the other Pytes.”
Chapter 2
Townson, Massachusetts
Cloe couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed as she parked in front of the pharmacy and took in her surroundings. When she’d accepted this job she’d pictured this quiet southeastern Massachusetts town a little bit differently. Something along the lines of the colonial era came to mind, maybe a pilgrim or two roaming the streets¸ but alas, there was nothing special to set this town apart from the dozen or so other towns that she’d called home over the years.
With a disappointed sigh, she climbed out of her small SUV. Fighting a yawn, she opened the door and walked inside and headed straight to the back of the pharmacy. After waiting in line for ten minutes she handed over her prescription and information. Once she’d played twenty questions with the pharmacist and he felt that she wasn’t a drug lord hellbent on turning his quiet little town into her own personal drug empire, she was gestured to the waiting area that consisted of three long park style benches lined up against the back wall.
A young couple sat on the first bench. The woman, who was obviously pregnant, was quietly reading a gossip magazine while the man next to her openly checked Cloe out. Okay, that was just creepy and made her want to slap him upside the head. Ignoring him, she shifted her gaze to the next bench where two, grumpy, old men sat looking less than welcoming.
Finally, on the last bench she spotted just one man, a large man, well over six feet tall if she had to guess, sitting at the far end of the bench. The hood of his grey sweatshirt was pulled over his head, effectively shielding his face. He was leaning to the side, using his fist as a pillow and leaving a large portion of the bench empty. With an inward sigh, she walked over and sat down. She was aware of the shocked expressions from everyone around them, but ignored them as well, too tired to really care.
Their eyes shot from her to the guy sitting next to her as if they couldn’t quite believe that she’d sat there or that he’d let her. Whatever their problem was, she didn’t care. She wasn’t here to get involved in small town drama. She had a job to do and as soon as she had her prescription she would go start it.
*-*-*-*
This young woman was……odd.
He watched as she stepped in line, noting the way that the rest of the customers stopped what they were doing to watch her every move and listen to every word that she spoke as though they had every right in the world to do it. She seemed completely oblivious of their welcoming glares as she sat down next to him. This town had a knack for scaring young women away.
They’d been going out of their way to do it since they’d decided over thirty years ago that he was no longer welcome in their town. Thanks to their drama he no longer had to worry about women approaching him. It was the only part of the small town bullshit that he actually appreciated. Well, that and the fact that he never had to wait in line since no one in town had the balls to come within ten feet of him.
After a minute, she raised a challenging brow in his direction. He ignored it as he looked her over out of the corner of his eye. Her flannel shirt was open, revealing a tight gray tee shirt that ended right above her belly button and a rather shapely athletic stomach. Her chest was good size too, he realized, reminding him of just how much of an ass**le he truly was. A surge of guilt had him looking away from her chest to take in the rest of her. His gaze shifted to the thick, black watchband on her wrist and then up to her face.