I Just Kidnapped My Twin Alpha Mates

Chapter Four (Part Three): When An Army Shows Up At Your Door...

There is nothing I love more than when Elliot and I move in perfect, harmonious synchrony. After the blast had finished shaking the street, Elliot, mate or not in my room be damned, threw open my door, tossed me my magical umbrella, and we were off to the races. Katrina tried to help, but despite her good intentions, she mainly just got in the way: Elliot and I had several precautions in place for the inevitable existence of a home invader. Many of those revolved around thrown things with bad aim and looking impressive. We kept the serious magical juju to ourselves just incase something happened to really fuck us over.

Pumped up on magical stimulants and armed with the finest pair of weaponized googly-eyed earnings the world has ever seen, Elliot and I burst through the doors of the main house to our sanctum, looking through the glass at the assembled army of werewolves not quite close enough to trigger the protective enhancements. Instead, they'd blocked off the entirety of the street with West Side Story style cars, on top of which, the leadership had set up a large stage. And on top of that stage, the werewolf I'd stabbed with my epipen stomped around the edges with a megaphone clamped in his hand, occasionally stepping so hard a chunks of the stage fell right off.

In pure agreement, Elliot and I exchanged a look of disgust. I readied a tranquilizer crossbow I found in one of Marcell's many closets.

The werewolf began to talk. "Give us back our beta, and come with us, then we don't attack."

Elliot raised an eyebrow at me. "You want me to handle this? You're not so good at the diplomacy thing..."

"Eh." I waved his hand away, already bursting myself with the runes on my umbrella. "My mates, my screaming match." So that the werewolves could see me, I disassembled the invisibility charm around the sanctum and clambered up onto the table where just two nights ago, Elliot and I had been fighting over ravens and chocolate. Speaking of ravens, Bel swooped in and joined me on my shoulder, giving me what I thought was a very majestic elven Druid brand of badass. I raised the umbrella, already enchanted with a voice magnification. "You want him? You take him. He's hiding upstairs in a closet."

"I don't believe that," my second mate roared. "Xander would never hide from a fight." The werewolves around him shifted, their fur bristling. Underneath their muscle backed arms, I saw a few of them holding knives, and even one clutching some kind of very scary looking gun.

"Well, he's there, and I want my room back." I elbowed Elliot not so subtly in the ribs, who elbowed Katrina. To them I muttered, "Go give the guy six table spoons of St. John's wart, like seven kilos of Chamomile, and you know what, Elliot, you're better at exact quantities than I am, just make sure he's too stoned to cause any trouble."

"And none of those ingredients are going to blow me up?" Elliot asked me, eyes narrowed.

As subtly as I could, I shook my head. "Just give you a really large headache so don't snort any."

"I don't snort anything anyway." With that, Elliot slid down from the table and fumbled his way to the door, managing to knock over my phone, which was still balances on a bookshelf in the process. This time, I heard the shatter. One of the werewolves in the assembled ranks shifts uncomfortably, mouthing to me: "Is your phone ok?"

The pained smile I gave only portrayed a fraction of the untold agony sitting in my heart. Katrina patted my head like a puppy.

The werewolf holding the megaphone snarled again. "Get out here. Now."

"How about no?" I offered. "You can dispel the army, and then we can initiate this hostage transfer like civilized werebeasts."

"Or I could knock down that glass, and bring you kicking and screaming to where you need to go while I find my brother and burn your house to the ground."