Fated for Two

The next morning, Brenton awakened and gave a big yawn as he tried to stretch out as he did every morning. He gave a groan when he couldn’t because of the body nearly on top of him and the one squished against his side.

Blinking his eyes open and allowing them to adjust to the darkened room, he looked down. He had started out the night before on the left side of the bed with Farrah next to him and Everard on the other side of her. Somehow during the night, he had ended up in the middle of them. Farrah was now laying mostly on him, with one arm and a leg hanging off the bed. Everard was just as close as he could get, his head in the crook of Brenton’s neck and his arm thrown over Farrah’s back, his hand cupping her butt.

Brenton had to snicker at where Everard’s hand was and as he watched Everard gave it a squeeze. Farrah moaned in her sleep and twitched slightly. Unfortunately, when she twitched, she hit a part of him that was begging for the bathroom and relief from the three glasses of tea he’d drank with his dinner.

“Farrah, I need you to get up, Darlin’,” Brenton groaned. When she continued to sleep on, he muttered, “I’m really thinking that having my own room is a wonderful idea and I believe my bladder will agree with me one hundred percent.”

Giving a huff, he began to lift her carefully over him until he could slide out from under her. Laying her down on the bed, he gave a sigh as he watched her push herself almost on top of Everard, who had rolled onto his back when Brenton got up. They both sighed and continued to sleep.

Brenton shook his head and raced for the bathroom. Once he’d finished his morning routine in the bathroom, he headed for the kitchen to start the coffee. He wasn’t a very good cook, but he could do eggs and toast. That would tide him over until later.

Humming softly, he moved around the kitchen with ease as he fixed his food. Then he stood gazing out the window as he ate.

“You should have gotten me up, I would have fixed you breakfast,” Farrah said from behind him as she slipped her arms around his waist.

Swallowing a mouthful of coffee, Brenton said, “It’s fine, Darlin’. I plan to have food at the pack meeting. I told Owen yesterday to have the women prepare it and for some of the men to put up the canopies and tables.”

“Ah, I didn’t know there would be food too,” Farrah murmured as she ran her fingers over his bare, and chiseled abs.

“That was the way mine and Brenton’s dad did it back in the day when we had group meetings,” Everard said in a sleepy voice behind them. “We didn’t all get together for meetings often, just if rogues had become a threat, but Alpha Philips always pulled out all the stops with the food when we did.”

Brenton turned, pulled Farrah into his arms, and put his chin on her head as he chuckled. “Yeah, Dad loved to feed people. Well, Mom did too, but mostly it was Dad. Those were good times. Wouldn’t you agree, my wolf brother?”

“They were,” Everard agreed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he grabbed a coffee cup. Pouring coffee into it, he gave a small yawn.

“Tired?” Brenton asked.

“Yeah, somebody kept kicking me,” Everard grumbled. “I think I finally got to sleep when she ended up on the other side of you about one o’clock this morning. How did you manage to sleep without her kicking you?”

Brenton laughed and explained, “She was on top of me, her face down one leg clamped between mine, and you had an arm over her holding her still.”

Everard chuckled and said, “I suppose that would do it.”

Farrah huffed and after kissing them both on the cheek, she fixed her own coffee. “I did warn the two of you.”

“That you did, baby,” Brenton agreed as he placed his cup in the sink. “I’m going to go shower now and get dressed. We need to be ready to leave by eight-thirty so I can stop by the pack house and check in before the meeting. Everard, do you need to check in with your beta?”

“I do,” Everard agreed. “I’ll just meet you and Farrah in the field. I think it best if I lead my pack there today.”

Brenton nodded his agreement as he headed for the bedroom. “All right, I’ll meet you there then.”

“Alpha, are you sure this is a good idea?” Mason asked.

Everard turned toward his beta and gave a soft huff before he answered, “Yes, Mason, it is. It is also something that has to be done because of the circumstances.”

Mason had been difficult all morning and it was beginning to grate on Everard’s already strained nerves. No, he wasn’t thrilled about leading his pack into what had been considered enemy territory for four years now. Did he really have any choice but to do it? No, he didn’t. Farrah had dropped into his life as his mate, and she was the mate of Brenton also. Was he worried that things could go bad? Yes, to the point his stomach was in knots, but again, he had no choice but to see this through.

Mason had seen Brenton at his house, had seen him when he helped with the roof on the pack-house, so he knew something was going on. However, he was acting a bit strange about the whole thing, and it had Everard worried that maybe his own beta was the mole.

Turning to look at Mason across his desk, he asked, “Mason, is everything alright? Is there something going on in your life I need to know about? You know you can tell me if there is.”

Mason shrugged but wouldn’t look his alpha in the eye. This action caused Everard to sigh internally as he watched his beta leave his office, his back stiff as a board.

Unlike Brenton’s beta, Owen, Mason was older than Everard. He was the same age as Warren, who if living would now be thirty-nine. Mason was Warren’s loyal beta first and often would tell Everard that the way he was doing something wasn’t the way Warren would do it. Usually, Everard would just mutter, “good thing I’m not Warren then,” and keep doing what he was doing. At first, it had really hurt when Mason had done it, but over time Everard had just grown indifferent and ignored it the best he could. No one needed to remind him he wasn’t Warren because he knew very well how big of a failure, he was without being told.

When Mason had balked at following Everard, after Warren had been killed, he had to wonder if Mason had wanted the pack for himself. If he had, all Mason would have needed to do was challenge him for the pack, but he’d never done so. So maybe that hadn’t been the heart of his problem.

It didn’t help that Everard had called on Brenton to help him because he was drowning in the unknown. Everard didn’t have any alpha training and really had no idea where to even begin. However, when Brenton showed up to help, Mason had hit the roof. Everard quickly realized that Mason was resentful of what he called, “Phillips’ interference”, and wanted him to butt out of their business. Mason’s continued resentment toward Brenton and his actions toward Everard, which weren’t always respectful, had caused Everard to wonder about things. He wondered if Warren had survived if he had become Brenton’s beta if both sets of parents had survived, would the two packs have stayed allies as time went on? Or would the hate that Warren seemed to hold for Everard have him turning against the Phillips’ pack eventually.

Warren had never had a problem with telling Everard how worthless he saw him. Of course, he never did it in front of their parents, but he somehow thought Mom had known. She always made sure the two weren’t alone a lot, even when Everard was little. In fact, she was usually the one to suggest him going to Brenton’s house, perhaps to keep him out of Warren’s way? He’d never know now.

He supposed it really didn’t matter at this point. So, with a mental shrug, he let it go and heaved another heavy sigh. At least Mason has stopped questioning my every move as he did in the beginning, but I still feel the need to keep an eye on him. Something about the way he has looked at me the last couple of days since Brenton stepped back into my life, doesn’t sit right with my wolf. Owen might be a loyal beta to Brenton, but I’m not sure mine is quite as loyal to me. I thought he was until now though, so maybe it’s just me being paranoid. Still, I’ll mention it and see what Brenton and Farrah think.

“I think the pack is all here now, Alpha,” Mason called from the doorway.

Everard gave him a nod and headed out the front door. Most of the pack had decided they would run as wolf. They felt safer that way and he really didn’t blame them because no matter what he said, he didn’t know how Brenton’s pack would react to them. He, however, was going in his skin because it took too much energy to shift. He’d be exhausted after the run and most likely not be able to shift back.

“All right, Steward Pack, let’s head out,” Everard called out as he marched down the pack-house steps. He then took off at a fast jog, his pack falling into line behind him, his beta next to him.

It took them only ten minutes to make it to the big field. The pack borderline ran just off the side of it, but it was on Phillips’ land. Looking out as his pack stopped at the edge of the tree line, he saw the huge crowd that was already there. The sheer number of people in the Phillips’ pack did make his pack look pathetic, but it was what it was.

So, taking a deep breath, he led his pack across the pack borderline and into the field. Feeling the shift in energy as they crossed, the Phillips’ pack stopped moving, turning almost as one to watch the Steward Pack as they moved closer. Everard had to give them credit though, despite their distrust, no one growled.

“Everard!” Farrah shouted as she came running from the left side of the field where there were tents placed over huge tables that almost groaned with food. Once she was just a couple of feet from him, she said, “You’re finally here. Brenton is just about ready to start, so come on. Question though, why are you in your skin when your pack all came as their wolves?”

Everard shrugged as he calmly, but very quietly, so not to be overheard, told her, “They felt more comfortable, better able to defend themselves in this form. I, on the other hand, am too weak to make the transition twice in such a short period of time.”

Farrah nodded her understanding and said, “Okay. So, Brenton wishes for you and your beta to be on the platform along with him.”

“Mason,” Everard said as he turned toward the wolf closest to him. “Shift and come with me please.”

The big wolf’s head nodded and in the next moment, he was in his skin form. He quickly pulled on shorts and a t-shirt he pulled from a backpack he’d been carrying. He then turned and handed it to another wolf, saying, “Make sure all the clothes are distributed when needed. I noticed they have food, so you’ll have to shift if you wish to eat.”

The she-wolf gave the beta a nod and took the backpack in her teeth.

Mason turned to face Everard once more. His face was blank, his body stiff as if waiting for an attack as he said, “After you Alpha, Lady Alpha.”