“If they have space.”
“Not sure if they do. Might be better to stay here in the alpha residence until we can get you sorted.”
Mason had gone back to get his brother, both of their parents seeming too caught up in what the alpha had to offer to remember their youngest child. Zack’s hand wrapped tight around his as they walked inside to the grandest place they’d ever seen. The soaring ceilings, the subtle colour on the walls, the large framed paintings, the shining marble floor. Mason had brushed his feet extra thoroughly on the mat before they walked in and made Zack do the same.
“So, Mason and Zack?” the alpha said as they entered the main hall, slinking in behind their parents. “They look like good strong boys. Take after their dad, then.”
Bruce stiffened at that, looked over his shoulder at the two kids before facing down the alpha. “Zack’s mine. Mason’s dad was Jenny’s other mate, but I like to think of him as my own.”
“Ah, yes, Johnson said your mate was a nix. An interesting phenomena, nix. Well, come and meet the girls, then we’ll let the kids go and play and discuss your position in the pack.”
Mason learned an important lesson that day—you could always tell a lot about an alpha by looking at the women of the house. He hadn’t known it then, just seeing the alpha’s mate step forward, dressed impeccably, her hands and her voice smooth and polished, but it was her eyes that gave her away. She made very little eye contact, and when she did, it was for only seconds.
Her smile communicated little emotion, seeming like a well-practised thing she slid on when the moment required. When she ushered her daughter forward, a few years younger than him by the look of it, he saw what her mother would have looked like without the façade. Whilst very pretty, that was marred by the wary, caged expression on the child’s face. She didn’t smile, didn’t respond, just eyed everyone with wide blue eyes, only saying hello when prodded.
“She’s obviously over tired and excited about having guests,” the alpha explained with a hint of steel in his voice. “Kailee, take the boys upstairs and show them the playroom. We’ll be down here discussing things with the other adults and mustn’t be disturbed. Do I make myself clear?” The girl nodded. “Cook has made some sandwiches and put out some snacks and drinks in the playroom. Amuse yourselves until we call for you.”
“Yes, Father,” she said with a nod. “C’mon.” She waved to the two boys and then led them upstairs.
The quiet on the second level of the house was somewhat disconcerting. Mason was used to the whistle of the trees, the blare of the TV, something to fill the small space they lived in. Here, the house was huge, so big, it seemed excessive and yet nothing filled it. Like, there was stuff, he saw plenty of that as they passed, but there was something still, almost dead about the house. Kailee opened the door without making a sound, ushering them in, then closing it behind them.
Mason was sure Zack’s heart sank when he saw the playroom. It was a pink paradise, perfect for a girl. So much so, the two of them felt clumsy, too big by comparison. All across the floor, an elaborate tableau had been created with dolls and action figures, small furniture and plastic dolls’ houses. Kailee gestured to the dining table set off near the large set of French doors that opened out onto a balcony. The boys saw the food and drink and fell upon them with gusto. But as they ate, the girl sat down on the floor, her pretty cotton dress ballooning around her. She picked up her dolls and started to move them around the setup, telling a story.
Initially, Mason thought it was the same kind of princess and the pea bullshit that little girls used to love to play in the yard when he was younger. There were always these elaborate mating rituals conducted between the girls, where some would play the men, while the others fainted and wilted in turns at the sight of their true mates. But as he chewed a ham and cheese sandwich, Zack watching with rapt attention, the game seemed different here.
Kailee held a girl doll in a tight fist, her knuckles white, and with the other, she picked up one of a long line of Ken dolls or action figures or even tiny LEGO dudes. Without too many preliminaries, the couple met, then started to vigorously kiss. OK, kinda truncated, but following the same script of most of the girls Mason knew. But it was when that figure was discarded and another picked up, doing the same thing, over and over, until she’d worked through half the line, that Mason stilled.
No one talked about situations like that at home. One man, one mate, that was the whole problem with him, with his mother. The fact she’d had two mates always seemed to travel with them, and Mason could never work out why. He didn’t get much of a chance to, having to fight off bullies. But as he watched the couples meet, kiss, then be discarded, a sense of disquiet rose in his belly.
“Can I play?” Zack asked, sitting down on the outskirts of Kailee’s diorama. The little girl gave him a sharp look, then nodded, grabbing all the rejected male suitors and passing them en masse to his brother. Zack started to sort through them, look for superheroes or action figures he was into, but Kailee stopped him.
“No,” she said. “You have to bring them here.”
“Oh, did you want them back?” he asked, then collected them up, ready to hand them over, but she just shook her head. She grabbed an elaborate princess bed, placed it in the middle of the
