Brothersong (Green Creek #4) - T.J. Klune Page 0,57

Even with everything that separates you. Holding on to that last thread even though the truth is right in front of you. It can’t last, Carter. It won’t. Something has to give.”

There was a hole in the base of the tree. It looked like an old den for a small animal. Dead leaves and grass littered the inside. I leaned over and reached in, steeling myself in case the hole wasn’t empty and I was about to get bitten.

I didn’t.

I touched the leaves.

The grass.

And then I felt it.

A thin, stiff piece of… plastic? It was—

I pulled it out.

Three smiling boys stared up at me from the photograph.

Joe said, “Mom wants a picture.”

Kelly groaned. “What? Another one? Why?”

Joe shrugged. “It’s my first day of high school. And the first day of your senior year. And Carter’s leaving tomorrow to go back to Eugene.”

I said, “I can’t wait. Get the hell out of this town.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I bet. That’s why you come home almost every single weekend.”

I put him in a headlock. He laughed as he tried to get away from me. Kelly watched us, smiling. “Gotta keep you in check. Make sure the whole Daddy-said-I’m-going-to-be-an-Alpha thing isn’t going to your head.”

“It’s not. I don’t care about that.”

“Right,” Kelly said as I let Joe go. “Because you only care about Ox these days.”

Joe flashed orange eyes. “I do not.”

“You loooove him,” I said, my voice high and mocking.

“Fuck you, Carter!”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” another voice said.

We looked toward the doorway to my room. Dad was there, arms crossed over his chest, and his lips were twitching.

Joe groaned. “Carter started it.”

“Carter started it,” I mimicked. He glared at me when I pushed him off my bed. “I don’t know, Joe. You don’t sound like an Alpha to me. Just a whiny little brother. Maybe Dad made a mistake.”

“Many mistakes,” Dad agreed. “Three of them I regret more than others, especially if they don’t get their butts in gear. Your mother is waiting.”

Joe grumbled under his breath as he left my room, pausing only to stand on his tiptoes and kiss our father on the cheek.

Kelly patted my hand before he left too. Dad wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, leaning forward and whispering, “I can’t believe how grown up you are.”

Kelly blushed. He said, “Stop,” but he didn’t mean it. And then he was gone.

I stood up from my bed. My duffel bag was packed and ready to go. I was already looking forward to getting away. I loved them, my pack, but I was free when I was out of Green Creek. I was finding myself.

Dad was watching me.

“What?”

He shook his head fondly. “Just thinking, is all.”

“About?”

“How little you used to be.”

I flexed. “Not so little anymore.”

He laughed. “Glad to know your ego is in check as always.” His smile faded. “I miss you when you’re not here.”

I frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Things are as they always are. You would know if they weren’t.”

“O… kay. What’s with all the feelings, then?”

“I’m a father,” he said dryly. “I tend to have those.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. I picked up my bag, hoisting the strap over my shoulder. “Have at it, then, Pops. I gotta get on the road.”

He came into the room and stopped before me. He reached up and put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently. In my head, I heard him whispering along the bonds that stretched between us, and it was SonLovePack i love you i love you i love you.

He said, “I’m very proud of you. I can’t wait to see what you’ll do with your life.”

“You’re being weird.”

He jostled me a little. “Being retrospective isn’t being weird.”

“Yeah, well, you’re making it weird.” I grinned at him. “Must be an Alpha thing. Make sure you teach Joe all about that. Should be easy, seeing as how he’s already weird.”

My father said, “Joe will be Alpha. But you and Kelly… your job will be just as important. Because you will be his pack. And an Alpha is nothing without his pack. I know I… I’ve put a lot into him. Spent more time with him these last few years, and it took me away from you and Kelly—”

“Oh, hey, Dad, no, that’s not what I meant. You don’t have to—”

“Listen.”

I did.

“You are a Bennett, a name with meaning. With responsibility. They will look to Joe to lead them, but he will look to you for guidance. For hope. Because you are