“Wow, I’m just going to be a big disappointment for you,” Fox said with a kind of forced cheer that he doubted River picked up on.
Winter clenched his teeth. His every instinct was demanding he pull Fox into his arms and just cuddle the wounded little witch, but that was a bad idea. He didn’t need to cuddle Fox. He didn’t need to take care of Fox. The man was plenty capable on his own. Winter needed to do enough to make sure he was comfortable. That was just basic compassion.
But he still couldn’t completely hold his tongue. Fox was already insecure about his powers, and now he was being accused of threatening people he’d never met.
“Fox is a young witch and still learning his powers,” Winter added.
“Oh, that’s cool.”
“Don’t worry, River. We’ll schedule a playdate for you and Fox,” he teased.
“Har. Har. Asshole,” River snapped, but it at least got a snicker out of Fox. The wolf and the witch spent the next thirty minutes talking about clothes, sizes, and most importantly, what food needed to be picked up.
When the call finally ended, Fox was looking more relaxed. Contacting Bel had been the smart choice, if for no other reason than talking to River. The young man—though even that was a misnomer since he was supposedly over fifty years old—had an engaging way about him that put other people at ease.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Fox turn in his seat so that he faced Winter as he drove. There was a wide grin on his face—like he was barely holding in all the questions bubbling inside of him.
Winter lifted a hand and waved his fingers at Fox. “Come on. Let me have it.”
“Bel, your brother, has two lovers? Boyfriends?”
“Yes.”
“Are they both wolves?”
“Yes.”
“Whoa…that’s cool. I didn’t think vampires and werewolves liked each other. I thought you were more like mortal enemies.”
Winter snorted. “More like we really didn’t know each other existed until recently. Apparently there’s a long history of wars and violence I’m still learning about, but we’ve largely kept away from each other. Beltran has always been different. His power is to speak to and understand animals. It created a unique bond between him and the wolves.”
Well, there was way more to that story than he was giving away, but if Fox met River and Wyatt, then he was sure the witch would get all the details from the people actually involved in all the drama.
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Three. All older.”
Fox winced. “That had to be a pain in the ass growing up.”
Winter nodded. “Very overprotective brothers.”
“Yeah, I got that impression. Should I be worried?”
Keeping his eyes on the road, Winter reached across and placed his hand on Fox’s shoulder, squeezing. He couldn’t stop himself. Or rather, he was tired of fighting this damn urge to protect the man. But something about the idea of anyone hurting Fox made his fangs ache and burn. “You’ll be fine. We need more answers.”
“It’s not like I’d blame your brothers. They’re just trying to protect themselves and the people they love. And this whole prophecy is so damn vague. It’s obvious that if it is me, it’s not because of my magic. But what if it’s something I do, not meaning to hurt anyone, but it still destroys your family?”
“Then we figure it out,” Winter said more sharply than he meant to. He gritted his teeth for a second, waiting until he was sure he could speak a little more evenly. He put his hand back on the steering wheel to keep from balling it into a fist out of frustration. “We can sit here and list all the reasons why it’s smart for me to pull over and kill you now—”
“Let’s not,” Fox muttered.
“Or we focus on getting to a safe location so we can start researching all this prophecy nonsense. We find a way to keep my family safe and you alive.”
“But if killing me is the only way to keep your family safe…” Fox whispered.
Winter couldn’t say anything to that. He would kill the man. He didn’t want to. Just the idea of it was making his stomach churn and his palms sweat.
“We’ll figure this out.” It was all Winter could think to say.
“Thanks,” Fox murmured. “Brothers might be annoying, but it must have been nice growing up with built-in playmates. Were you always close?”
“Yes. We all tend to be relatively inseparable. Always in each other’s business. Kind of surprising after all these years.”
Then again, maybe it wasn’t. For the longest time, they’d relied on each other to watch over their mother. After close to two centuries of performing that duty, Winter was sure that not one of them thought they could suddenly stop checking in on each other. It was an ingrained part of who they were now.