Tiger's Mate

Chapter 44

•Ethan•

"I'm here," I growled, standing across the clearing of the road side. "What do you want?"

"A drink to start," Kallen answered, "Come, I know a spot." He turned and walked, expecting me to follow, as always. I hated him for it, but I went along, not having much choice. I kept several yards between us as we walked, keeping my eyes trained on his long velvet coat in front of me. He walked at a casual pace, hands in his pockets, and scent tinged with the same smokey hearth as our father; I could feel his smile. He looked put together, clean, and favourable. I looked little worse for wear.

It had only been yesterday, but it seemed all remnants of our fight were gone. That or I just didn't leave a scratch — whereas I still had scabs not quite yet healed on my forearms and head.

I thought Kallen would take the woodland route towards town — but he kept walking the side roads. I wasn't going to ask him where he was going. He wouldn't tell me either way. I watched the sun sink under the cluster of dark clouds painting the sky, like an omen for how spectacular this meeting with my dear older brother would go.

Twenty minutes later without exchanging a single word between us. I shouldn't have been as surprised as I felt when I saw he had taken me to a bar; found in the 'late night' part of town, reserved for the bikers, the gangs (the meagre ones only a small town could have), and the wolves of our pack that looked to start bar fights and make it look like an accident. Shocking as it may seem — I had never been here. At least, not this far into it.

Kallen seemed to know exactly where he was going; every street, every corner.

HOUSE OF VENOM, I read off the wood made sign hanging from the black walled bar. Charming, I thought. And just the kind of place I didn't expect my brother to go to.

He was supposed to be the good son — the pride of the family, the future Alpha, blah, blah, blah...sure he drank, just like 90% of the pack, but since when did he go out to places like this? Since when did he go out at all? I figured playing the perfect asshole was all time consuming.

The perfect asshole walked right in like he owned the damn place and took a seat at one of the more private corner tables. Not that the place seemed very lively to begin with. I sat across. He only had to send the bartender to our side a slight smile and before I knew it, two glasses filled a quarter way with scotch were place in front of either one of us.

Kallen smiled and lifted his glass to his mouth, looking completely relaxed as he sipped the liquor. His eyes flashed to me and he smirked, "Not going to enjoy?"

"I'm still underage," I answered, receiving a mild scoff in turn.

"Don't start playing the good-two shoes now. You've broken worse rules."

Fuck you, I wanted to respond. Instead, I sat back in my seat and tried to look as unbothered as he did.

"I see why you like this place, it dark and dreary, like you."

He only smiled into his glass.

"Goddamnit, enough of your games," I said, slamming my fist against the wood table and making it shake. Any harder and it would have spluttered to bits. "Why did you call me to meet you instead of tearing out my throat?"

"Such imagery. I only came here to talk, for now."

I swallowed back the snarling curl of my mouth. "So talk."

He put the glass down. "Ethan, you are my brother. Blood. We weren't always at each other's necks, I know you remember that. So, I'm giving you a chance; turn the werecat over to me of your own accord, and I will keep silent about any correlation you may have had with it."