Markus pressed into Sam’s back, cornering him against the counter he was wiping. His aura was one of restrained frustration and Sam fought a sigh, he just couldn’t get a week off from his mate’s bullshit, could he? He said nothing, waiting for Markus to make his complaint, he would probably growl about his sheets taking too long to dry or his desk having a little dust left behind from Sam’s polishing…

“What’s with that book?” Markus’ tone was even, his volume lowered, it seemed he really was trying to hold himself back, but Sam could read his wolf’s energy very well with so little space between them, something had pissed him off. He stopped wiping but didn’t turn around.

“Which book, sir?” He asked.

“The one with the cheesy note in from Charles.” Ah, there it was. He decided to turn the interrogation around before it could reach the point they seemed to be dancing around endlessly lately of ‘Charles is good, no he’s not, yes he is’ and so on and so forth.

“You opened it?”Maybe he was pushing his luck by asking something so brazenly, and without using a title for Markus… But he was feeling lucky that day.

“I just wanted to see what was so special about it that you feel the need to carry it just about everywhere you go.” Markus snapped. Sam rolled his eyes at the cupboard above his head and turned to face his mate, pressing their chests together tightly.

“It was a gift, sir.” He was trying to hold his exasperation back, truly he was, but it was very hard when Markus made him spell things out like they were on Sesame Street.

“For what? Is it your birthday?”

“No, sir.” It stung that his own mate didn’t know when his birthday was, he knew Markus’, even if he hadn’t ever gotten him a present, he always left a card for him. Sam only got cards and presents from Cassie, her family, and a couple of pack members who had helped raise him. He was grateful for what he had, but it was easy to feel jealous. “My birthday isn’t until the seventeenth, sir.” It was stupid to hope that by telling him he might remember when the day came, but it slipped out before Sam could stop it. Stupid, desperate omega, he thought.

“Seventeenth of what?”

“May, sir, this month.” He mumbled, his luck felt like it had been sucked out with a vacuum cleaner.

“Right, so he just got you this gift for nothing?” Markus huffed, “What is he, your sugar daddy now?” he looked almost amused but Sam knew it was an act, he was angry… and deep down a little hurt - his wolf was growling, trying to keep him from seeing the emotions it was trying to protect and using anger as a shield to keep people away.

“He thought I would like it since we like a lot of the same books, sir.”

“How thoughtful of him.” The alpha sneered.

“Yes, he’s very kind to me.” Sam whispered, almost more to himself than Markus who faltered, looking lost and anxious, Sam didn’t think he had ever seen Markus so devoid of confidence.

“I-” He began but his mouth got stuck around whatever the next word was going to be. He stepped back a little, giving Sam some breathing room.

“Yes?” Markus refused to meet his eyes but Sam continued to stare up at his, he would never get tired of them, like a flower so unique and bright you can’t look away. His ochre eyes were one of Sam’s favourite features his mate had, when they weren’t glaring at him. Markus didn’t seem to notice Sam’s ogling as he struggled to spit out the words he was choking on.

Finally, he blurted, “I’m sorry.” and Sam’s eyes almost popped out of his head, was he hallucinating? Had someone spiked the brownies he baked earlier? Markus… apologising… twice in one week? There was no way this was real. Markus apologises for the first time ever on Saturday and by Wednesday he’s dropped the ‘s-bomb’ again?

“Sir, with all due respect, are you feeling well?”

“Very funny.” He huffed. “I just… yeah, I’m…”

“Sorry.” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, that.”

“Thank you, sir.” He stared up at Markus with wide eyes. Reward the good behaviour, he thought, maybe it was working… just call him Pavlov because he was conditioning this dog… Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too ahead of himself yet. He pushed down on the counter behind him with his palms and lifted himself onto his toes, leaning forward with fluttering eyes. Markus hesitated, and it hurt, Sam knew he was worried about someone seeing them, that he couldn’t forget his status in the pack for just one romantic moment. Sam looked away, feeling thoroughly mortified, and began to pull back but Markus grabbed him, one hand at the back of his head and one round his waist and pulled him in for a far too brief kiss, their lips barely bumping together before Markus let him go, nodded awkwardly and slipped out of the kitchen as quickly as he had arrived.

Sam bit his lip, progress was progress, he supposed.

~

“Oh, Karliah, I love it.” Her mother cooed.

“It’s itchy and tight.” Karliah grumbled as she continued to try to pull at the fabric bunching in her arm pits.

“Beauty is pain.” Her mother said with a knowing smile. Karliah pulled a face into the changing room mirror in front of her and her mother raised her eyebrows warningly.

“I don’t want to be in pain at my bonding ceremony.” She huffed.

Her mother let out a sigh which developed into a groan, “I doubt Cassie’s mother had this problem picking her dress.” she grumbled.

“Cassie’s mother would have this problem trying to get her into anything that isn’t a dress,”Karliah said, attempting to lighten the conversation and redirect the conversation. “they’re the only things she wears, I’m starting to wonder if she knows how to put jeans on by herself.”

“But she always looks lovely, so what’s the problem?”

Karliah hesitated, “Don’t I look lovely?” she asked quietly. There was a tense pause as Karliah watched her mother in the reflection of the changing room mirror, her expression changing from surprise, to guilt to annoyance.

“Of course you do, but we can always look lovelier, darling.” She hissed through gritted teeth. Karliah pinched her lips together and turned, slowly, to face her.

“Why are you so obsessed with me being more feminine?” She whispered, fearing the eavesdropping ears of her fellow women on the other side of the curtain. “Am I not woman enough for you, mother?” She couldn’t tell if she was more upset or angry that she was on the brink of adulthood, mere years from taking over as leader of one of the largest packs in the county and barely over a month away from her bonding ceremony and yet she was still having to prove herself, to her own mother, no less.

“Don’t you dare try and imply that I don’t support you and who you are.”

“Then why do my clothes matter to you so much?” Karliah snapped. “Why must I wear a dress if I feel more comfortable in a suit, they do beautiful women’s wedding suits!” She had found a few that she really liked online but hadn’t had the courage to present them to her mother for fear of her reaction. If Cassie didn’t care how she dressed, why did it matter? There were plenty of women with bad style or ‘masculine’ style, not that Karliah fully understood what made pieces of fabric sewn together in certain ways gendered.

“I don’t understand why you don’t like skirts when they would be the perfect cover-up!”

Karliah froze, looking down at her mother with what she was sure was probably the most horrified expression she had ever seen on her daughter’s face.

“Cover-up?” She asked, her voice barely above a hard breath.

“Forget it.” Her mother sighed, waving her off with one hand.

But Karliah refused to let the subject drop, “You’re worried about the other alphas finding out about me, aren’t you?” she leant down closer to avoid being heard.

“When you take over it needs to be without scandal,” Her mother hissed, “I want to protect you, you don’t need any more work on your plate.” she kept her voice low too but with enough venom to get her point across.

“Scandal.” Karliah repeated. “Okay, picture this:” She lifted her arms up as high as she could in the straight-jacket-like dress and formed a rectangle with her fingers. “I’m thinking a lace bodice, puffy sleeves, sharp stilettos and a white leather mini-skirt just short enough for the tip of my cock to hang out.” She gave her mother a tight smile which the older woman scowled at, her cheeks turning a dark shade of pink.

“I am only trying to help.” She huffed, although Karliah could see the hurt she was trying to hide glistening in her eyes. “I love you, and I will always support you. People can be cruel and nasty and I don’t want that for you.”

“I know, mother, and I love you too, but right now what I need is a ‘yes woman’.” She crouched down beside her mother carefully. “Because if I wear something you pick I’ll be unhappy and uncomfortable, and if I wear something I pick but you’ve spent the next six weeks tearing it apart then I’m going to feel unhappy and self-conscious.”

Her mother sniffed, “I understand, I’m sorry for trying to make this about me.” she reached out to pinch her eldest daughter’s cheeks between her fingers. “I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“It is about you, your baby is growing up,” Karliah smiled up at her gently and took her hands. “but this is the part where you watch and enjoy. The happiest gardeners take time to actually enjoy the flowers they’ve grown once in a while.”

Her mother grinned and said, “And you are a beautiful flower, a gladiolus, I like to think.” she winked cheekily.

“Why a glad-a-la-uh-” Karliah tripped over her own tongue trying to pronounce the word but her mother flicked her forehead to silence her.

“Gladiolus.” She repeated. “They’re bright, beautiful, tall,” She tapped gently at Karliah’s cheeks with each word, “and they symbolise a strong and honourable personality.” and finished with another squeeze of her cheeks.

“What would Cassie be?” Karliah whispered curiously.

“A tulip, a black one.” Her mother beamed down at her with a wild grin. Karliah waved her along for an explanation.“Tulips can be given to someone to imply they have beautiful eyes, which she does, but black tulips symbolise a mixture of beauty and grace and courage, someone who is both effortlessly elegant and… what it is you kids say? A bad bitch!” Karliah almost knocked herself over laughing, hearing her mother swear was a shock in and of itself but hearing her quote ‘the youth’ was equal parts horrifying and hilarious. Her mother joined in and gave her a gentle shove.

“Go on then, take the damned thing off.”

Karliah sighed with relief and stood, turning to face her reflection again.

“Do you want some help with the zip?” Her mother raised her brows at her in the mirror but Karliah rolled her eyes confidently.

“I’ll be fine.” She laughed.

A loud ripping sound cut through the silence like a knife through cream cheese.

~

Markus knew he wasn’t supposed to be in his father’s private filing cabinet but it wasn’t as though he was snooping for information that he didn’t feel he had every right to know. He wasn’t looking for scandalous pack secrets or dirty deeds, he just wanted to skim through the alliance files.

There was something off about Charles, he knew it, but if he couldn’t prove it Sam would think he was just being cruel and vindictive. The file had to have something, any information he could find on the man would help even if it wasn’t a direct lead. Anything, a date of birth, an address, a photo of him… He found the pack of profiles near the start and it began with a list of contents that stated each of the alliance representatives names.

Markus froze as about a third of the way down, ‘Charles Godfry’ glared at him from the page, he knew it.