Heart's Price (MxM)

Chapter 66

"It's a supporting wall," Ian Foley explains for the fifth time. "You can't just knock it out."

"Why not?" Dane asks, crossing his arms over his broad chest with a stubborn scowl.

Ian sighs, and then slowly and patiently repeats what he's already explained four times.

"Because it will compromise-the-structural-integrity-of-the-house," he enunciates carefully, and waves a hand. "Mess a bunch of shit up, in the long term."

"Like what? Can't you... compensate?"

Dane adds a sneer and a nasty twist to the last word, and I mentally plant my face in my palm. He's been itching for a fight for weeks, and Ian—given his history with Julian—is the perfect target.

Fortunately, Ian's not an alpha. Instead, he has the patient, self-accepting air of a man who was once convinced he needed to be and has since outgrown that conviction through the rare and painful process of self-reflection.

"Yeah," he allows, brushing a hand through his short red hair—much lighter than Ambrose's dark auburn shade—and sighs again as he studies the wall. "If we replace the basic posts with heavier, load-bearing beams, reinforce the foundation and the roof structure, then sure—we can 'compensate.'"

"Good," Dane nods. "Do it, then."

I wince. Dane is both literally and figuratively 'poking the bear,' and while my five-year-old self might have been interested in who would win 'Grizzly vs. Wolf,' I'm currently more interested in preserving the furniture.

"Great!" I exclaim, clapping my hands with pretend enthusiasm. "I'm so glad that's settled. Oh, by the way, Dane—I think Grace has something to show you. Outside. In the yard."

"Oh yeah?" Dane grunts. "What?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "You'll have to go see."

He shoots me a look that says I'm not fooling him, but stomps away to talk to Grace anyway. When she visits, she always brings food.

Ian sighs, watching him go. "Shit. I almost wanna take his bait, just to let him blow off steam," he says, adjusting the black patch he wears over one eye. "Poor guy."

"Don't worry about it," I say, rotating a sore shoulder. "He gets plenty of exercise. He's just not great at the 'human emotions' thing. He misses Julian."

It's been almost three months since the night at the standing stones and, to be honest, Dane is doing better than he was.

For the first few weeks, he'd relapsed into the behavior he'd displayed the first time Julian disappeared, spending almost all his time as a wolf, and refusing to leave the site where our mates had vanished.

Freya, Chloe, Grace, and I had brought him food and forced him to Shift and talk to us, but eventually, we'd decided that an intervention was in order. Freya—brave woman that she is—took on the task, and whatever she said or did, it seems to have worked.

He'd returned to us, resumed his responsibilities, and thrown himself into his work and—especially—into the task of remodeling the cottage.

Ian's family owns the place and the land it's on, so Dane had needed his permission and blessing—readily given—and as Ian himself is a carpenter, it made sense that he'd take on the job. Unfortunately, when Dane's mood goes south, as it often does, Ian often ends up in the cross-hairs of his wrath.

"What about you, kid?" Ian asks, taking a swig of water from a reusable bottle and wiping his brow. "You doin' alright?"

I'm pretty sure Ian is only a few years older than me, and I wonder if anyone smaller than him is a 'kid' in his mind. Although, given that his own mate is quite a bit younger and even more slightly built than I am, I sort of hope not.