Open the fridge, then check the phone. Brush my teeth, then check the phone. Go to the meeting… and check the phone. I was in a vicious circle. My rational side screamed at me that it was too dangerous and that I could endanger the entire pack with a single message. However, the side that had longed for a mate all my life begged me with every thought to contact him. I was faced with a difficult decision.

I knew that eventually, I would have to choose – either text Tobias or Liliana or delete their numbers so they wouldn’t haunt me. And while I normally had no problem making decisions, in this case, it was almost impossible. Maybe that’s why I decided to delay it for as long as possible.

I needed to clear my head which meant it was the right time to visit my family. Jacob was currently in the interim period when he was home for a couple of weeks, so we all tried to spend as much time as possible with him. If we got on his nerves, he kept quiet about it and let us continue to annoy him.

Cora on the other hand. Fresh sixteen often took its toll on her mood. Like most of the teenagers in the pack, she had alternate classes. She went to school in the closest town two days a week. All the subjects she could take in the pack were taught by wolves who were accredited to do so. There weren’t many of them, but still enough for the wolves to go to the town only minimally. Of course, they didn’t like that very much. They got a taste of the world outside the pack and had to come to terms with the fact that they couldn’t live in it all the time. In reality, it wasn’t so bad, the pack was ideal for wolves, but I understood that they might miss their friends, cafes, or cinema. Moreover, they had a hard time explaining to their friends why they couldn’t invite them to their house. People often thought we were weird, and it was all the more difficult for us to fit in. Cora’s friends were no different, but luckily, they eventually got used to our family living differently than they were used to.  However, not everyone was equally understanding and there were always some idiots who picked on her. And she was still upset that she couldn’t just throw them over her shoulder. With how she liked to solve problems by force, I was surprised that she decided to follow in our mother’s footsteps and not our father’s.

Today was one of those days when she was home. And according to my calculations and the shift schedule in the pack house, our father should have been home as well. Chaos was guaranteed which meant a perfect day to visit.

As I mentioned last time, the fam lived just down the street from me. And even if you didn't know it, all you had to do was come to the neighbourhood and follow the sound. Or rather noise. Wolves were temperamental by nature, but in our house, it was doubly true. Three children and two parents working in places where there was no time or space for conversations? Yep, noise at home was guaranteed.

When I moved out a year ago, at first, I thought the sudden silence would drive me crazy. Perhaps I need not say that I visited them more often than I should have. Not that it would bother them, with one son always on the go and the other finally back from college. Each wolf family was a small pack in itself. In ours, I held the position of peacemaker and surrogate parent most of the time. The destiny of the eldest sibling.

As the middle child, Jacob somewhat conformed to the stereotypes. He was always independent, so he had no problem traveling the world on his own to fulfil his dream. However, the moments when he was at home were irreplaceable. You know what they say, the middle child is the one who secretly keeps the family from falling apart. This was certainly the case with Jacob. He and I were inseparable as children. As an older brother, I took him everywhere with me and all my friends always loved him because he was such an adorable kid. As he started to grow and hit puberty, I had to admit that he was smarter than others his age, making our four-year difference seem much smaller. That's actually what he still has. Although he was only nineteen, he was working harder on his future than some adults.

And then there was our little sister. Which I didn't have much time to think about, as she opened the door in front of me and snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Oh no, you're here again." That little monster. Of course, we both knew she was actually enjoying my presence, it would just hurt her ego to admit it out loud.

"Oh no, you're still a pain in the ass," I mimicked her tone. She gave me an ugly look, but still threw herself into my arms and wrapped hers around my waist. I held her close and hugged her back. I think this moment captured our relationship perfectly.

"Where's Cobe?" I asked her after she let go of me and stepped away from the door. You see, our mom had a minor obsession with C names. And although the brother's name was Jacob, no one at home called him anything but Cobe. That is if he wasn't in trouble.

“Helping mom with something,” she muttered, answering my question. So, mom was home too. Considering that everyone was at home, it was surprisingly quiet here.

"You're doing it wrong!" Never mind. Forget that I said anything.

"I do it just like you!" I heard my dad contradict her. I had no idea what they were doing, but obviously, they were doing it again in their own way.

"Right,” my mom had her ironic tone on which was made to tell you that you just weren't going to win. “All the muscles, but no patience! I'd rather do it myself."

I followed their raised voices into the garden. From what I was looking at, it seemed like they were planting vegetables. Or at least they tried to - that is, in my father's case.

"I can't even help you anymore?"

They didn't seem to notice me in the heat of the argument. To someone who didn't know them, it might have seemed like a serious argument, but I knew they were both just too stubborn to admit they were wrong. They were a rather interesting couple. Arguments were common for them, but neither of them took them seriously. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever heard them actually argue. They always fought over the little things, but when it came to the things that mattered, they were always on the same page.

"Not when you're doing it wrong!" It looked like this feud was going to be a long one. I honestly had no idea why dad decided to pretend he understood gardening when mom was clearly an expert at it. But they seemed to enjoy it, so why would I spoil it for them?

"Where's Cobe?" I asked loudly enough before dad could think of another nonsensical argument. My voice obviously disturbed them, and they finally noticed my presence. Mom immediately stood up and ran to me.

"Finally, someone who’ll agree with me,” dad stated, and mom immediately lifted her head from my chest where she was hugging me to give him a nasty look.

"Try again. This one is always on my side." I won't lie, I was a mama's boy. At least until I grew up. Now that I was working and living alone, I spent most of my time with my dad.

"I mean, you're the one who decided to garden and think you're better at it than mom, so you're on your own," I argued. A triumphant smile lit up mom's face, while this time it was Dad who frowned.

“See, my kid.” Speaking of kids, I still had no idea where their middle one was.

"Where's Cobe?" I was starting to sound like a broken record. Fortunately, this time they seemed to listen to me.

"He gave up after five minutes. Traitor," dad grumbled. I couldn't help but laugh. I could totally imagine Cobe leaving moments after they started arguing and neither of them noticing until they wanted support on their side. Months or years could pass, but my home never changed.

"I thought we were supposed to be extra nice to him when he was home. Your words, not mine," I reminded him.

“That was before he decided to leave me on the battlefield.” My mother's hands left my waist and moved to her husband's. She snuggled up to him playfully, and the corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. Suddenly, there was no more arguing. It never lasted long, and they were all the more cheerful afterwards.

"Do you wonder at him when the other side was outnumbered?" I teased him. Everyone in this household knew that winning an argument against mom was impossible. If she decided she was right, everyone had to admit she was. And if, in the end, it turned out that she was in fact wrong, telling her was a dangerous move none of us could afford to make. It was a losing battle.

For dad it meant sleeping on the couch and for us extra housework. And I don't mean regular housework. I tried washing the car when it was raining, Cobe still has trauma from measuring, as he not only had to fix all the cabinets according to the spirit level, but he had to measure the distance between all the pictures in the house with a ruler so that it was the same on all sides, and Cora knows exactly which lid fits which pot since she had to take them all out, pair them and put them back in the cupboards separately. When it came to ridiculous punishments, our mom could write a book.

"This is exactly why we should have another child. There will definitely be at least one on my side on the fourth try." Mom looked at him like he was crazy. She liked to remind us all how happy she is that she has practically grown children and doesn't have to constantly worry that we will eat something off the floor that we shouldn't. Well, at least in my and Cobe's case, in Cora's she relaxed her demands, and our sister knew how not only sand but also earthworms taste. Of course, we never forgot to remind her. Every argument we had ended with the reasoning "at least I didn't eat earthworms."

"You can try that on your grandchildren. My factory is closed for life."

…

For peace of mind, I decided to spend the night at my parents' house. My room was still furnished so that I could stay the night at any time and not have to bring anything with me. The only change that had taken place in it in recent years was that the door between mine and Cobe's room was bricked up. Our parents made this decision after I turned sixteen and didn't want my poor little brother to be traumatized. Evidently, they expected that girls from the neighbourhood would take turns in my room, and my brother could enter at an inopportune moment. I won't lie, no woman has ever seen my room. I didn't say I was a virgin, but bringing anyone home was like a death wish, and I wasn't going to die of shame. I could picture it exactly - mom would pull out the photo albums, dad would tell every story he thought was funny, and my siblings would do anything to embarrass me.

That's exactly why I decided to come out only after I left for college. Not because I was afraid of their reaction, but because I would have to leave the door ajar every time some of my friends were over. To this day, when I decided to bring Sam to our house, my mom kept yelling at us to leave the door open, and I quote her "don't do anything she wouldn't do with her parents in the house". 

I always wondered what it would be like to bring my mate here.

One thought and my mind was back in stress mode. Being at home helped quite a bit so I didn't totally panic, but still. All I could see now when I closed my eyes were the hickory irises absorbing intensely into my thoughts.

Maybe it was an intrusive thought, or my brain was burning from all the blushing, but my fingers quickly moved over the phone's keyboard, and I typed out a message. Without a second thought, I clicked send, and my fate was sealed.

“Wanna grab coffee sometime?” was the message. Simple, but to the point. Nothing too binding, but she will surely be pleased. And if she agrees, that meant I would be able to learn information about my mate without having to meet him.

Despite the late hour, the answer came almost immediately.

She said yes.