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Walden stalked out of the restaurant.

“How did you know?” Lloyd bumped his hip with Pan as we followed.

My head spun. I’d barreled over all the red flags with Fenella. Her refusal to remove her jacket, and the strength of its scent in the material should have tipped me off. But I’d explained everything away, wanting to find the perfect person to help our pack.

I’d done nothing but create more cracks. Pan accused me of being desperate and he wasn’t wrong.

“I got hard the minute I smelled her. Only an omega can manage that, or Walden. Especially when he’s angry.” Pan slid Walden a look.

I shoved my hands in my pockets as we waited for the valet to bring the car around.

“Well, I guess home it is.” Lloyd’s eyes widened, not disappointed at all. His hand twitched over his pocket where his phone was.

“Pry yourself away from your catfish. Please.” Walden carved his hand through his black hair with a frustrated noise.

Pan clapped his hands, and a sardonic grin cut a sharp line across his face. Our beta liked to listen before he opened his mouth and measure his words carefully. His friendship with Pan baffled me, because Lloyd was so relaxed, like a soft breeze, and Pan was a gale.

But they balanced each other like the eye of a storm. There was very little that could ruffle Lloyd. But Walden’s sharp comment was his limit. Salt hit the back of my throat as Lloyd hiked his shoulders back.

“Not here.” I frowned, aware of the sifting crowds searching for shelter from the brisk winter breeze. My nose was cold with it. Walden ground his teeth and pressed his phone to his ear.

“Sybil? No, it was a disaster. Du Monde, of course. I want anything negative suppressed. Yes, including private videos. Yes, Pan was seen drinking. It was nothing like… you know. A minor incident, smashed glass. No more date suggestions from you, by the way. Say hello to the other two and try to mitigate their disappointment. You won’t be getting a sister-in-law soon.” Walden tucked his phone into his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest.

“How are your sisters?” I asked.

“Fine. Busy. Having them run our PR is such a load off.”

I hummed with agreement. Trying desperately to stave off the confrontation I knew was coming. Lloyd, our mediator, had checked out and was staring at his phone.

“Did I embarrass you, Walden?” Pan pouted.

I tugged on my brother’s arm as the tension in Walden’s jaw turned to steel. His temper was like frayed rope, and Pan was a flickering flame burning the edges. Pan wrenched his arm out of my hold, glaring at Walden, who found something of interest in the inky sky.

Walden had been my friend before he’d been Pan’s lover.

We bonded over our love of history, and the Starhaven Historical Society I founded had been a joint effort for a little while. When Walden and I connected in college, it was like finding a soul that understood mine. I saw underneath his facade, to the alpha who managed perfection I could only dream of. He was my brother by fate. Sometimes I thought I knew him better than Pan should have, considering their relationship.

Pan liked to push Walden. Sometimes the Baylark heir needed it, glued to his work and the pressure of legacy. But not right now. Walden rarely snapped, but when he did, it was explosive.

“Come on, guys, let’s not do this here,” Lloyd sighed.

“Why are you angry at me? I saved us the embarrassment of being used.”

“And I thank you for it.” Walden crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh, I understand. I made a scene, the unforgivable sin.” Pan’s voice cracked, the only sign that Walden’s silence bothered him. “It wasn’t as bad as last time.”

Last time.

We all cringed, and Walden’s shoulders lifted to his ears. Like he wanted to block out the memory and Pan’s voice. The concierge brought the car to a stop, and Walden slid into the driver’s seat without replying. Nobody wanted to go back to that night. When Pan snapped in public. If he told us why, it might be easier to move on, but he remained defiantly thin-lipped.

“Get in the car, please.” Walden stared straight ahead.

Lloyd jumped into the back, leaving Pan and me alone. Pan stared at Walden with red-rimmed, glassy eyes. His breath smelled like spirits. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. His shoulder was bony, and it didn’t yield to the comforting touch. It felt strange for both of us.

Pan and I were close in age, barely two years, and growing up, we’d been thick as thieves. The Mythos brothers against the world. Swinging our imaginary swords and conquering gods.

If only we could have stayed in our daydreams.