The Vow (Black Arrowhead #1) - Dannika Dark Page 0,26
old enough to be traveling on your own, I should warn you about Breed bars. What goes down in Austin isn’t the same as the rest of the world, especially not in the backwoods. You don’t have a pack to protect you, and an unfamiliar face only titillates Shifters who’ve been staring at the same people day in and day out. Don’t invite anyone into your space. Wolves can scent a fresh bitch. Not everyone out here plays by the rules, and you need to know that. I’m surprised Lennon and Hendrix let you come.”
“They miss you,” I said. “They were asking about their fishing buddy just the other day.”
Lakota laughed heartily and showed off his megawatt smile. “We’re too old for fishing in the river. If you put all three of us in a canoe, we would sink to the bottom.”
I laughed at the mental image. My brothers had grown into strong men, and it seemed like just yesterday they were playing games and climbing trees.
Lakota’s laughter faded, and he stared at his chips. “Have they thought about starting a pack?”
I cracked open the can of root beer and washed down the sandwich. After a small burp, I wiped my mouth and set the can between us. “It’s too soon for them to become Packmasters. Plus… it’s hard for them. It means they’ll have to split up, and they’ve never been apart.”
“They’ll make a strong alliance if they choose the right men for their packs.” Lakota crunched loudly on a potato chip and then licked his finger. “Have you thought about joining with one of them?”
I lowered my eyes. Lennon and Hendrix meant the world to me, and while neither of them had brought up the topic, it was one I felt strongly about. “I would have to choose,” I said. “How can I choose between two brothers I love equally and not expect one of them to take it personally?”
“Your old pack is growing,” he pointed out. “More children will come. Do you think they won’t want to join? Packs are stronger when family members are a part of them. The trust is already there. It’s not a matter of choosing sides. Family forges a stronger loyalty.”
“I know, but still. It’s not the same with their cousins. I’m their sister, and it feels like I’m choosing who’s the better brother.”
“Admit it,” he pressed. “You’d join one of their packs in a heartbeat if they asked. There’s a sense of security you’ll have with your brother being the Packmaster. He’ll look out for you and protect you like no one else will.”
“True. But the perks wouldn’t be worth hurting someone who loves me. They have another destiny to follow, and I have a feeling I’m not going to be a part of it. I wouldn’t hesitate if I just had one alpha brother, but instead I have two. Something I’ve learned over the years is how alpha twins are especially sensitive to favoritism. My family tries to stop them from small competitions. No matter how much they love each other, they have an innate desire to stand apart. People might try to make me feel guilty over not choosing, but no one has walked in my shoes.”
“True,” he agreed, steepling his fingers in front of his face. His gaze drifted to the side. “But choosing neither is also making a statement.”
A question sat on the tip of my tongue. I pondered whether I should ask it or let the silence build between us. Lakota was speaking from a position of inexperience, having not grown up in a pack. I wouldn’t be able to understand his remarks without learning how his upbringing had shaped his point of view. His adoptive parents weren’t even Shifters, let alone the same Breed, and even though he’d often traveled down to visit with his birth mother, he didn’t have a clue what it was like to live in a pack. Yet he so freely gave advice on it.
I mustered a little courage to speak honestly with him. “What was it like not growing up in a pack?”
Lakota fooled around with a small radio sitting on the table. He rolled the dial until the static cleared. “Time After Time” came on and dissolved the tension between us.
“I had a fortunate life,” he began. “Two fathers, two mothers, and more family than I could hope for. If my chosen parents hadn’t saved me from the black market, who knows where I’d be now. A slave—of that