A/N: You should all know that his takes place AFTER 'Saved' (Dawson's story) and I will be completing that one first. So there may be some things that don't add up. Remember that 16 (sixteen) years have passed since the ending of Where He Belongs. Also: THIS STORY NEEDS A COVER. So if you know how to make them please do and send them to me and I'll pay you in thanks and smiley faces :) <--Just like that one.
On a serious note however, if you do want to make me a cover, PM and I'll give you my email. And lots of smiley faces (see above for reference.)
Also, my first task running through WHB and fine tuning it up a bit (get rid of the typos and weirdness).
So my tasks are as followed:
1. Edit the hell out of WHB
2. Write 'Saved'
3. Start WTB (WHB Book 2) while also editing 'Saved'
4. Start a new book
And I want to finish all this by... January! Is it doable? Maybe! Will I suceed? Probs not. But hey, I'm trying .-.
Lookit all the cute faces I can make. >.>
Aww.
Anyway, ENJOY and COMMENT but also VOTE and FOLLOW.
~Kate~
"He's growing up."
Colton frowned as he mixed more punch for his pup's twenty first birthday party. He had grown tall, strong, and handsome But...there was growing sense of sadness inside Colton. The things he'd devoted his life too were growing up right before his eyes and soon...soon her couldn't dote on them anymore. "Daddy, can I have some more punch please?"
Colton turned his eyes to look at his daughter. Little Phoenix looked patiently at his father. She was sixteen now, a bright young girl with ambition as big as the sky. Colton adored her. "Yes darling--don't spill it on your dress."
The young girl squealed, giving him a courtesy (a trick Aunt Xena had shown her when she was twirling around in her dress). "Aren't you fancy," commented Emory with a snicker.
"I am," agreed Phoenix with a toothy smile. "Are you having fun?"
Emory wasn't one who enjoyed a fuss being made about him, but he knew his father had put a lot work into it so he wasn't going to complain. "Wonderful. So much better than hiding away in my room or hunting." Emory realized his joke was badly placed as a look of hurt crossed his aging father's face. "I was kidding Dad. I'm sorry. I'm having a good time. I promise."
To say Colton worried about his son's...anti-social ways worried him was a huge understatement. He assumed it wasn't healthy for a wolf of his son's stature to hide away as meekly as he did. Thomas' personality was a prominent enough as it was--the sixteen year old was racing around after a much smaller white wolf. Hayden and Drew found it amusing but the distraught in Ayden's face showed quite clearly how comfortable he was with the two rough housing.
"Aww," Connie's voice whined, wrapping himself up in the provided blanket. "You got mud on my fur. You know how long I spent washing it for this?"
"You're such a baby," laughed Thomas pulling on his pants. "Hey dad--can I drink too?"
"No." Ayden replied immediately. So called 'adult beverages' were laid out on nearly all surfaces. A tasteless addition by Jeffery who found the human tradition the pack practiced to be especially amusing. Colton didn't think so. "Apologize to Connell."
"What? Why? Who're you trying to impress, Connie?" sneered his brother snatching a small cup of punch. "I don't see why we have to follow some stupid human law."
"Because I'm your father and I said so," replied Ayden shortly. "You really upset your brother Thomas."
Connie had a pout on his face as he collected his clothes from his father. "Fine, fine," sighed Thomas. "Look Connie I'm--"
"Save it," sniffed the omega marching off Colton's house to get changed. Phoenix gladly tagged along. The two had been good friends their entire life.
"I tried," laughed Thomas holding up his hands in mock defense. He hurried out from under the watchful eyes of his parents and found the birthday boy. "Hey man. What's up?"
Emory's blue eyes looked tired. "Oh good," he muttered seeming distracted. He took a chip from the bowl and popped it into his mouth with a crunch.
"Well good but I didn't ask how you were," retorted Thomas making Emory apologize. "Don't worry about it--what's going on with you?"
"Don't you think it's sort of weird?"
"What?"
"I don't have a mate yet."
"Oh that." Thomas was having plenty of fun watching the female's in class swoon around his very presence. "So? I hope I never find a mate."
"You don't mean that," said Emory with a dry laugh. "It's lonely."
"You'll find one," insisted Thomas realizing that was what Emory wanted to hear. But Emory shook his head.
"I'm not meant to."
He wandered off then and Thomas 'humph'ed under his breath. His brother was odd like that. He'd say weird things then walk away. "Thirsty?"
Thomas spun around with a grin. Jeffery was his favorite. He passed his a red cup with a wink. "I think the rule's funny but it shouldn't be followed. Besides, you're with rogues now."
Thomas grinned. He loved the group of rogues here--they were family to him. One hundred percent. He took a swig of the liquid--or maybe it was fire. He sputtered immediately, drawing the attention of his three very aware fathers who crossed the distance between them quickly. Jeffery laughed at the boy's dismay while he whimpered and spat the foul, burning liquid on the grass. "I told you no," snapped Ayden, swiping the cup away. He gave it a sniff then a small sip. "Hundred and fifty proof?" he laughed looking at Jeffery.
"I thought I might give him a real taste of alcohol."
Thomas' eyes and nose ran as he glared at Jeffery. He'd trusted him! "Want some more?" asked Hayden with a smile.
Thomas just stormed off toward the woods. His pride was hurting a bit but he knew it was all in good fun. He sat against a tree on the edge of clearing, flicking his jet black bangs from his eyes as the fire in his mouth was slowly soothed by the crisp autumn air. "Fuck," he muttered to himself, looking up at the colored dappled foliage above.
"So you're a drinker now?"
Thomas turned a glare onto his brother. "Shut up Connie."
"Make me."
"You know what--you're not even worth it."
Nothing hurt Connie more than that statement.
As an omega he constantly doubted his worth, especially to his future mate and Thomas knew it. Tears filled the pale blue eyes, the gold specks shimmering. "I can't believe you said that."
"I didn't mean it Connie," muttered Thomas, feeling his brother's pain. He didn't like it--he felt...insecure. An odd sensation for such a confident wolf.
"Then why'd you say it?" demanded Connie.
He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his over sized knit sweater. He slung off his body in a way that worked well, but also made him a look a bit feminine. His feathery blonde hair didn't help either. Or the leggings he wore that disappeared into a pair of tan boots. But Thomas didn't mind--it was Connie. His little brother by just about two seconds. No one dared say a word about Connie though. Thomas was quick to put anyone who said a mean word toward Connie in his place...or looked too long as well.
"I don't know. Because it's what big brother's do."
"Phoenix says Emory's never mean to her."
"Well Emory's not normal so--"
"Don't say that," muttered Connie. "He's...special."
"What? Do you have the hots for him, Con?"
"No," snapped Connie defensively. Thomas peeked up to see if he was blushing but he had the usual flush of pink on his cheek bones. "He's not my type, Tom. Although, if I'm being honest, no one in your class really is. "
"Good," laughed Thomas but he knew of the Selection and what it meant if no one picked Connie--which they would. Connie was attractive and had good Marks. There was no way someone wouldn't pick him. "I don't think he's anyone's type."
"There's always someone out there for everyone," replied Connie.
"You're a hopeless romantic, Con," laughed Thomas with a shake of his head. "Some people are just meant to be alone."
"Like Colton?" argued Connie in a hushed tone.
His past was misery to the pups and Emory never talked about it. But it was quite scandalous though--two pups by two different men.... And no Mark. If your mate died, your Mark would stay until another male bit you--like Dennisse. She was the only widow they knew of. Her mate had been the original Thomas, and Thomas and Connell put it. But he'd died protecting their father. From what, was never explained but they owed their lives to this man apparently. "I'm sorry for getting your fur all muddy." Thomas sighed a moment of silence fell between the two.
Connie's eyes sparkled. "It's okay. I'll just wash it again. It's sort of fun, you know. In case you ever want to get your mangy wolf a scrub."
"You kidding me? The ladies dig my black fur."
"Maybe underneath all the dirt it's white," teased Connell.
Thomas laughed. "Wouldn't that be a shocker for the Beta, huh?"
Connie frowned a bit. "Why?"
"What do you mean?"
"What does your fur color have to do with your job?"
"Oh please, don't start with all that 'omega power' bullshit."
Connie's eyes narrowed. Courses had changed a bit in the years their father had attended. They didn't teach obedience and cooking anymore. They had real classes. They talked about rights and how they should be treated. About support options and laws enforced in the pack and by region. But mostly, the encouraged omegas to think. And Connie just loved it. He loved writing and art mostly. He found housework (which they were still taught) to be tedious. Why couldn't a dominate wolf pick up a rag and dust for a while?
"You're an Oppressor," sniffed Connie, happily pulling vocab from his favorite book: From Alpha to Omega; A History in Unjust Power Exchanges in the Current Pack Hierarchy.
His father found a lot of it to be just crazy compared to the things he was taught but loved seeing the change nonetheless. Omegas weren't these shy, docile creatures anymore. They were making impacts, making a difference. They were blowing stereotypes and standards out of the water! Not everyone was pleased however. "You're part of the problem." accused Connie, placing his hands on his hips.
"The problem is that you've got those fancy books tell you that you shouldn't listen," argued Thomas. He was one of those who weren't pleased by his brother's can-do attitude. "You'll get yourself in trouble one day."
"Go get stuck in a bear trap...again," teased Connie.
Thomas' eyes grew dark. He had stepped in it and it had practically splintered his left hind leg. Thankfully Connie had felt his pain immediately and saved him before any real damage could occur. And for that, Thomas was grateful.
But the constant reminders? Those he could live without.
"Haha," Thomas muttered getting his feet. "Get lost mutt."
Connie poked his tongue out between his two plump pink lips. "Bite me," he retorted, reeling back with a squeal and his brother made a lung to do so. "I was kidding you freak."
"Get lost, pipsqueak," chuckled the eldest boy, rolling his eyes.
Connie huffed, stalking over to talk his father.
Thomas simply crossed his arms and noted Emory's disappearance.
Question: who else finds Connie to be unbelievably adorable? Cuz I do. (*.*)/