It had been a while since his youngest brother had popped by for a visit, but there was always a feeling of normalcy when any of them walked in. But Bel had that feeling at their homes as well. They were places of belonging.
Except for Winter’s.
Bel hadn’t been to many of Winter’s homes over the years. For a while, he preferred to just live with Marcus. And when he did strike out on his own, he was over at their homes so frequently, there really was no need to stop by his.
Winter’s words were so very true when it came to his twin, but they didn’t make him feel any better.
“I can’t understand why he’s having issues with them. It’s not as if they’d killed Philippe or me. They didn’t cripple him. He’s perfectly fine now. He was perfectly fine later that same night after the attack.”
Resting his hands on his hips, Winter turned where he was standing in front of a chair and frowned. He was wearing a pair of battered jeans and a plain black hoodie. He could have passed for a teenager with his young face and light, baby-blue eyes.
“I don’t think it’s the attack.”
“Then what?”
“You waited months to tell us about the wolves. You waited to tell him. When have you ever not told him something immediately?”
That stopped Bel cold. He and Rafe had shared everything important in their lives—and so much of the unimportant stuff—immediately. They had always said there were no secrets between them. That there never could be, thanks to their magical twin link, right? Well, Rafe hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with his feelings for Philippe.
And somehow, Bel had managed to keep something from Rafe. Sure, it had only been a short while, but Rafe still felt betrayed.
“Oh,” Bel whispered.
He hadn’t wanted to tell Rafe or any of his brothers because he hadn’t wanted to hear their concerns. He didn’t want warnings or to be called naïve. Wyatt and River weren’t out to hurt him or his family; that he’d been sure of from the start. Of course, he’d also wanted to keep the wolves to himself, locked away in their own little world for as long as possible.
Winter returned to his side and wrapped an arm around his back before ushering him over to the sofa. Once Bel was seated, Winter dropped into one of the chairs and toed his sneakers off.
“Relax, Bel. Rafe will get over it. You didn’t betray him. Philippe is undoubtedly talking some sense into him right now.”
“Is that why you’re here? To talk some sense into me?”
Winter smiled at him, not at all bothered by his sharp tone. “Nope. I was hoping to get another look at your wolves.”
Bel’s mouth dropped open, and he was speechless for a moment. When he could finally make his tongue work, all he could manage was a somewhat squeaky “Really?”
“What were you interested in, Mr. Varik?” Wyatt’s question drew their gazes to the hallway. River just behind Wyatt, his expression wary but a little curious.
“To be honest, everything. And please, call me Winter.”
“I don’t understand. Are you serious?” Bel pressed.
Winter huffed a little and his shoulders slumped. There was an almost embarrassed smile that crept across his lips and a sparkle in his eyes that reminded Bel of the playful boy he’d only gotten glimpses of when they were young. Winter had always been a serious child. Too serious. But then, for nearly all his life, Julianna had been a vampire…and incredibly dangerous.
“If you’ll forgive me for slipping into something more vernacular. Dude! They’re freaking werewolves! Shapeshifters! How do you not think it’s the coolest thing ever?” He waved both of his open hands at Wyatt and River while the biggest smile Bel had ever seen stretched across Winter’s face.
Bel laughed and shook his head. “Oh, then yes, I guess I do.” He looked over at the two werewolves, who appeared to be torn between confusion and mirth. “I do think they are very cool, and not just because they’re werewolves.”
“Stop!” Winter held up one hand in front of Bel while rubbing the other over his face. “I get more than enough needless updates on Rafe’s sex life. I don’t need to know about what freaky things are going on here.”
“What? I didn’t mean—”
“Uh-huh. I’ve seen enough starry eyes from Rafe and Marcus. I don’t need it from you too. Let’s just focus on the werewolf part of things.”
“Maybe we should sit,” Wyatt suggested while River snickered softly.
As Wyatt and River approached the couch where Bel was still sitting, Winter pushed to his feet and extended his hand to the older man.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get the best first impression of our clan,” Winter apologized.
Wyatt smiled as he took the vampire’s hand. “It’s understandable, considering our shared past and that we were not meeting under the best of circumstances.”