Cursed Wolf

Blake wasn’t around when Tate got home. He was glad. Having Blake in his house had been distracting him from his comedy routine. He and Dalia were making so much progress in their relationship, he felt utterly inspired. The hike up the mountain had been tons of fun. He loved watching her find little moments of beauty with her camera.

She saw the world in such a fantastic light, despite everything she’d been through. The greatest inspiration of all was his mate. The way she persevered through difficulty—how she maintained her sense of herself and of life.

How she opened her heart to him even though she’d been hurt. He wanted to give her all his love and support. He wanted to build a life for them where they could both be safe and happy, pursue their dreams, and build new ones together.

He went to his room and found the notepad he used for writing jokes hidden in his bedside table. Blake would just look at him blankly whenever he tried to tell a joke, and it got under his skin. He didn’t need Blake’s negativity interfering with his process.

Soon he would perform at open mic night. He wanted to bring down the house, like Jake.

Tate began pacing the room, telling his jokes and listening to his timing. He had crossed words out and added new ones, had lightbulb moments for completely new jokes, and made himself laugh quite a few times.

When he was done with the writing and practice, he felt so good about what he’d accomplished that he wanted to share it with Dalia. He picked up his phone and noticed that he’d missed a text from her.

“I was so inspired I finished my painting.”

There was an image she had taken of the painting that had been unfinished on her easel that morning. It was now completely done. The moody oceanic landscape gave a sense of the tumultuous weather and the broody undercurrent of the tide. But at the same time, there was a lightness in it—a sense of hope and a way through adversity.

Tate wasn’t sure how he saw all of that in her painting. He didn’t know anything about art. But when he looked at his mate’s work, he somehow knew exactly how she’d felt when she painted it. It was a strange and wonderful sensation and he savored it. He wanted to delve even more deeply into her heart.

He sent her a text back, telling her that he’d finished his comedy routine.

“When are you going to perform it?” she asked with a winking emoji.

“I hope soon. I think that I’m ready.” He let out a long breath.

“Want to share it with me?” she asked.

“Why don’t you come over?”

The sun was starting to set but Blake hadn’t returned. He had no idea where his younger brother had gone, but his backpack and things were all missing from the living room. Maybe he had decided to go stay with Damien and Venus.

Tate texted Dalia his address and tidied up while he waited for her to arrive. Worried about her being on the road alone at night.

“How was your drive?” he asked, taking her coat. He hung it up in the hall closet and they walked into the living room.

“It was fine.”

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, car*essing the skin of her cheek as their k!ss deepened. He loved every bit of her, every inch, every nuance. She was beauty personified, and it melted deep into his heart. His life had changed when she came into it, and Tate never wanted to go back to how it had been before. Just as he was about to pull her even closer, his front door swung open.

“Blake? What are you doing here?” he asked with alarm.

“I’m staying here,” Blake said grumpily, trudging forward with his backpack slung over his shoulders. He collapsed onto the couch beside them, completely breaking the mood.

“Blake, this is Dalia. My mate.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Congratulations. It must be amazing to be matched with one of us,” Blake said sarcastically.

“Tate is amazing,” Dalia said, looking up at him.

Blake rolled his eyes, and Tate grimaced. This was exactly what he had hoped to avoid.

“I thought you went to Damien’s house,” Tate said.

“I went for a walk and then got lunch. And then I hung out on the docks for a while.”

“Well, at least you got out,” Tate said.

“What are you two doing besides making out? You’re not going to end up like Damien and Venus, are you?”

“We were just celebrating our creative wins,” Tate said. “I finished my routine and Dalia finished her painting.”

“I came over so Tate would perform it for me.” Dalia grinned.

“Right,” Tate said, glancing at his brother.

“You don’t want me to hear your comedy routine?” Blake asked. “Is it that bad?”

“I think it’s really good,” Tate said defensively.

“Why don’t we order a pizza and chat before Tate practices his routine for us?” Dalia suggested.

“Good idea,” Tate said, grabbing his phone to order a pizza. His heart raced with apprehension. Before Blake showed up, he had been on cloud nine. Now he was agitated and confused.

He called the pizza restaurant and ordered several large pies with all the toppings, dessert, and sodas.

“Isn’t it amazing that we can just order food to come to our door?” Tate said, as he tracked the driver on his app. The order was almost there.

“If you like that sort of thing,” Blake said, crossing his arms.

“Well, you don’t have to have any,” Tate said.

He opened the door for the delivery driver, he took the pizzas. Tate placed the boxes on the table and opened everything up. Blake walked over and gathered several slices on his paper plate.

“I thought you didn’t want any,” Tate said with a laugh.

“I never said that.”

Tate sat down with Dalia on the couch. Blake sat in the armchair, shoving pizza in his mouth.

“Such a short time ago we had no idea pizza delivery even existed. We had to hunt for every meal we ate, or we would starved.”

“I know the point you’re trying to prove right now, Tate, and you can just save it.”

Tate’s stomach turned. He was so tired of Blake’s negativity. He wanted to enjoy his new life and his time with his mate. He knew he shouldn’t antagonize Blake, but he was tired of his mopey behavior.

“Who doesn’t like to eat?” Tate said, finishing up his pizza.

He didn’t feel any more relaxed than before. He wanted to tell his brother to go take a hike. But after a hundred years together, his sense of loyalty outweighed his annoyance. Instead, Tate stood up in front of the TV and cleared his throat.

“Okay, wait till the end to tell me what parts you liked and didn’t.”

“Absolutely. I’m so excited.” Dalia set down her plate and gave him her full attention.

He glanced over at Blake and saw him roll his eyes. This was not going to be an easy audience, despite his lovely mate being there. They were so close to making their commitment to each other, and Tate didn’t want anything to get in the way of that.

He started with his routine, getting a laugh out of Dalia when he came to the punchline of his opener. Blake made a grunting sound, which Tate decided to take as a laugh.

He smiled to himself and then went into the bulk of his routine. His theme was shifter life and finding a fated mate. He knew it was a niche topic, but the people of Selkie were predominantly shifters.

Dalia laughed all through his routine. Blake laughed at this final joke and Tate was elated that he’d made his bitter, gloomy brother laugh out loud.

“That was wonderful,” Dalia said, before he even asked.

“What was your favorite part?” he asked, hoping to gain insight into making it better.

“I loved the intro. And the jokes about shifter dating were spot on.” She giggled. He’d made a joke about human women’s exes, which was based on her challenges with Hank.

“I’m glad you were okay with that. I was worried it might offend you.”

“No. I think it was good.” She took another bite of pizza.

Tate felt like Dalia was growing stronger as they spent more time together. Not that she needed him to be strong—she’d already done so much on her own. He was so glad she trusted him after everything she’d been through. He hoped that he deserved it.

“What was your favorite part, Blake?” Tate asked reluctantly.

“The end.”

Tate screwed up his l!ps, but then smiled. “So you liked the last joke the best. Fair. What was your least favorite part, Dalia?”

“Hm. I didn’t like it when you talked bad about yourself. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t funny.”

“Note taken,” he said, giving her a big smile. “Blake?”

Blake sighed. “I don’t know how you can make jokes about mating when we’re in the middle of a war with an evil witch.”

“Eh. War? Witch? What?”

“The Snow Queen is on our land. And we just left it. We left her to do whatever she wants.”

“That subject didn’t seem to make for very relatable comedy,” Tate said, smirking.

“I’m so done with this,” Blake said, springing to his feet. He grabbed his jacket and backpack and started for the door. “I’m going to Damien’s house.”