Beastly Desires(4)

By: Nikki Winter


“Why do you hate me?” Kaisal questioned. “Is this about me super gluing a trail of cans to your tail? Because we can work that out in therapy. I’ll allow you to hit me with a foam bat and everything if you just. Let. Me. Sleep.”

His brother grunted. “My plan of vengeance is larger than me interrupting your naptime, oh sibling of mine. You know that system we just put in a week ago for the Monahan pack house?”

Tugging at the hair at his nape, Kaisal waited for the rush of endorphins that followed. “There’s no way to possibly forget that we entered the gates of hell and were introduced to what Satan clearly had a hand in creating.”

“Are we talking about the pups again? Because really, you were warned that they had their fangs already.”

“I was attacked!” he cried. “I have scars! Wounds! Trauma!”

“One pup nipped you,” Naresh softly answered. “On the finger…playfully.”

“I required stitches.”

“You required an iodine pad and a Dora Band-Aid.”

“I feel like you’re trying to call me dramatic, and I don’t really appreciate it,” Kaisal replied as he got to his feet and stretched. Sleep was a distant memory now, and it was no surprise that work was the interruption. As a software designer for a security operations company that he, his brother, and their frightening cousin ran, he was used to late nights and long days. It was something he’d adapted to as a SEAL, and it was now something he had to adapt to as the leader of his pride and proprietor of a business that catered to the most irrational, emotional, animalistic species to ever walk the earth—shifters.

Pulling up the jeans he’d kicked off just four hours ago when he’d stumbled in from finishing up a meeting with advertising, Kaisal strolled to his kitchen, stopped at his coffee maker, and hit one simple button.

Just the way he liked his life—simple. As he waited for the elixir of the gods to brew, he dug around in a nearly empty fridge until his hand hit the cream he kept stocked.

“Have they called to tell you that pup had rabies and that I should get checked?” he asked as his coffee finished percolating. He pulled the pot off, poured half the container of cream in, and without further hesitation, gulped down the one thing that would keep him sane.

“No, they called to say that the left wing is malfunctioning and a slew of their canine progeny decided to escape and find something to hunt.”

Kaisal paused. “Did they?”

“Dublhainn says they found them poking at a dead squirrel in the backyard,” Naresh answered, mentioning the pack alpha.

“Lovely.” He swallowed the rest of his coffee. “I’m assuming your harassment is because you need to me figure out what went on malfunc and fix it?”

“If I could bake, I’d make you cookies—and probably tie you down so I could eat them in front of your face…off the crotch of one of your ex-girlfriends.”

“I truly admire your jaunty ‘I really want to die by my brother’s hands’ outlook on life,” Kaisal commented.

“Just make your way on over to the set of ‘Why the fuck do we have so many children in one house’ and let me know how it goes. Dublhainn knows it’s late but he’s willing to pay for the extra time to keep their spawn from running amuck.”

“Err…by myself?” The thought of taking on the hordes alone did something that not even the Roman-Catholic church, his mother, nor the first time he’d seen his father’s bare white ass after shifting could do—it put the fear of God in him.

“The last time I went I lost several locks of hair. Several. Do you not grasp that my lustrous tresses are a representation of my sexual prowess, and that every pair of panties within a twenty mile radius drops when I run my hands through them?”

“Do me a favor, Naresh,” Kaisal retorted as he headed for his bedroom, picking up strewn-about clothing. “Check between your legs and make sure there’s still a dick there.”

His sibling growled. “There is, trust me. I used it the other night to aim right at the tires on your precious Yukon when I relieved myself of the many shots Baz and I did.”

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