Crean leaned against his car, peeking at his belongings through the back window to make sure they were still safe. The little Rav 4 was barely hanging on to its last life, with every handle wrapped in duct tape and an engine that had more quirks than an old farmhouse. Hopefully, it would last the rest of the trip.

“Hey! You can’t park there like that.”

Looking toward the shout, Crean rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, letting out a long sigh. It had only taken the store owner six hours to notice him.

“I’m just leaving. Sorry.” He patted his car as the man got closer, a black apron wrapped around his bright red shirt. From the guy’s appearance, they’d had about the same amount of sleep.

“There’s a hotel a few minutes from here if you need to rest, but my lot’s not a truck stop.” The guy put his hands on his hips but seemed to soften as he took in Crean’s appearance.

Do I really look that bad? He was about to meet three strangers and his brother, who he hadn’t seen in years, and he probably looked like he’d just crawled out of a trash fire.

“Sorry. I didn’t know. My phone died last night so I followed the signs to the nearest place. It was either here or across the road, and your place looked way safer.” He glanced to the other side of traffic to what looked like a car graveyard. “I’ll be on my way.”

The man waved him off with a grumble as Crean reached for the handle on his car door. The tape stuck to his fingers, a bit of dirt tucking under his fingernails. Jerking his hand away, he tried to pick it out from under his nails as the man disappeared into his store, but it refused to budge.

Just five more minutes. His legs were aching, and his back was beyond help from the night he’d spent cramped in his driver’s seat, trying to catch a few winks. He circled around the back of his car, fiddling with a rust patch on the fender as he shifted from foot to foot to ease the pins and needles racing through his limbs.

He could still remember the day he’d pulled into the driveway back home and his mother had scowled at the car like it were better suited for a scrap yard than their neighborhood. They had a reputation to uphold as one of the most powerful shifter families in the province, and junkyard scrap didn’t jive with that.

Still, it was the first thing he’d bought with his own money. It had barely limped along then, and his neglect hadn’t done it any favors.

Is it still neglect when I have no idea how to change a tire? He’d had great intentions when he’d bought it, but keeping the interior clean and tidy didn’t do much for the engine—that, and the fact that the door was held together with a healthy portion of duct tape, courage and a small touch of magic that he hoped no one would notice.

Magic was also responsible for helping the engine start on even the coldest winter mornings when his breath crystalized on his eyelashes. A little extra edge for the igniter was worth the risk.

But magic was something he wasn’t exactly supposed to be able to do. Witches had been pushed to the brink of extinction during the Middle Ages and had died out completely by the sixteenth century. He knew because he’d heard about it dozens of times, sneaking tidbits of conversations when he was younger when he was supposed to be sleeping.

Vampires, were-animals and faeries all thrived in secret droves alongside humans like himself, but there wasn’t a drop of pure magic left in the world. If anyone ever found out…his magic would be the least of his problems. People didn’t tend to react well when they were faced with something they believed was long dead.

A were-animal was expected to be able to shift at will, but if things started flying around the room, the house was suddenly possessed, and they had to hire an exorcist and move. He’d had one slip-up when he was younger, which his mother had blamed on ghosts. She’d ordered the house burned after she’d dragged the entire family to a new city.

Vampires were a whole different level of weird—and faeries? Well, he didn’t want to think about those winged bastards anymore. Every one he came across was a conceited, self-centered, beautiful monster. Or a murderer.

Stretching his arms over his head, he cracked his back, blinking away the sleep from his eyes. Three days of endless roads and late summer wind buffeting his hair through his cracked window without a shower or a decent sleep were taking their toll.

The road trip would hopefully be worth it. He hadn’t been able to pass up the job opportunity in one of the highest-paying cities in the country, even if it took him away from the protective shroud of his family. Everything he owned was packed away for the drive that had pushed his car to the limit.

Pulling out his cell phone that he’d been charging all night, he brought up his mom’s contact info. She’d been texting him twice a day throughout the entire journey, calling him if he didn’t answer right away. It had taken years to convince her to let him move out and make a life on his own.

Well, not really on his own.

I’ll be at the house in a couple of hours.

His phone buzzed immediately as his mom answered. She’d probably been hovering over the screen for the last hour, counting down until the next time he would text.

Between crying so much that her eyes had been completely bloodshot and accidentally shredding his shirt when she’d partially shifted into her panther form when trying to give him a hug goodbye, their parting hadn’t gone too well.

I’ll call Rian now to let him know. His roommates should be there to help you unpack so you can rest after your journey. Call me as soon as you get there. Drive safe!

Cracking a yawn, he ducked into the car, starting the engine then pulling onto the road.

It was the only downside to the ‘moving out’ ordeal. He was thirty-five years old, and by human standards he should have been married with kids, a house and one-point-five cats. But shifter families didn’t really work like that for the eldest children, especially panthers. Even though he’d been born without a drop of panther in him, his mother had still tried to arrange his last six girlfriends, who’d had claws instead of fingernails.

He still hadn’t mustered up the heart to tell her he was gay. He’d been half hoping she would figure it out on her own.

It was a miracle that he’d been allowed to move out at all, but he’d been given one condition. His mom had insisted that he move in with his brother and his three roommates, refusing to let him get his own place. Even if three-quarters of them weren’t panthers, it was better than him flying solo.

It wasn’t so bad. The city was pricey, and splitting expenses five ways was sure to help him get ahead.

But three days of driving was as close to hell as he’d ever gotten, and he’d almost turned back after the first night of shivering in the car. Most truck stops didn’t mind him camping out for the night, but his seat didn’t fully recline, and the weather seemed to get colder every night.

It’s worth it, though.

“Wow.” He blinked in the bright mid-morning sun, letting out a low whistle as the first wisps of mountains came into view. When he squinted, they almost looked like clouds instead of the perpetually snow-covered peaks. The hills back home had nothing on them.

They disappeared out of view as he took a ramp into the city, diving between rows of fresh buildings. As he pulled onto Ridge Street, he perked up for the first time in days. The houses were exotic and nothing like the cookie-cutter versions of subdivisions he saw all the time back home. Most of them were tall and skinny, unlike the sweeping bungalows that he was used to.

There! He spotted the number plaque stamped into the house. It appeared to be two stories from the outside, with a red metal roof and deep green siding. The windows were clear and new, along with a porch, and he caught a hint of the backyard as he pulled into the driveway.

Grinning, he slid into the lot, parking next to his brother’s familiar blue Honda pickup. There were three other cars in the wide and shallow driveway, all of them putting his trusty car to shame.

“It’s going to be okay.” He shifted the car into park before leaning heavily into his seat. His heart had picked up at the first sign of mountains and hadn’t calmed since, his palms sweating against the steering wheel. “Change is good.”

He knew a little about his new roommates—enough that his brother vouched for them, at least. One of the roommates was in university classes, apparently, while the other two had day jobs like his brother, but that probably didn’t stop them from partying like animals and making out with their girlfriends on the couch.

Yuck.

He’d seen enough straightness to last him for a lifetime.

Swallowing, he killed the engine, popping the trunk as he stepped out. The sound of rushing traffic greeted him, along with the distant laugh of someone down the street. The neighbors were stacked right next door, with nothing but a flimsy fence between the properties.

So no naked sunbathing… His bucket list was going to end up the shortest in history at the rate he was going. A new town meant a new start, leaving his old ways and the majority of his family behind him. That meant the magic, too. I’m done for good.

“Maybe I’ll sunbathe anyway.” He nodded to himself, treading a few paces so he could peer into the backyard. There was a lawn chair and everything, and he’d packed lots of sunscreen. There was bound to be a nice day or two left in the season before the hornets came out in full force.

Grabbing one of the lighter boxes from the trunk, he hefted it up on his shoulder, wrapping his arm around the broad side to hold it tight. The cardboard edge scraped against the inside of his arm where his sleeve had ridden up, a strand of unstuck tape flittering as he moved toward the deck.

The deck itself was large enough to fit five or so chairs and had a second staircase leading into the backyard. Beyond it was a stainless barbecue paired with a smoker, the small silver bucket swinging back and forth in the wind. There was only one tree, but it was massive, its looming branches filled with leaves that were just starting to shift from green to rusted red. With a strong enough gust of wind, the entire backyard would be buried in them.

He stared at the welcome mat in front of the door, a single stray stone tucked between the thick fibers. He’d expected a frat house with beer cans strewn about and broken windows repaired with duct tape and hope.

Do I knock? It wasn’t exactly his house—at least, not yet. Maybe he’d fit in in his own way in a few weeks, but for now, he was a long way off. Being with his brother would probably help because Rian had never been shy a day in his life.

Pinning the box against the door, he freed one hand and tapped out a few knocks against the stained wood. A shout sounded immediately from the other side before a loud whoop came that should have been reserved for a hockey game. He winced at the pounding footsteps that rattled the frame, the vibrations even traveling along the deck.

He looked back at his car as he bit his lip. It’s not too late.

The lock clicked a second before the door was flung open, the glass catching the sun and blinding him for a moment. The heaviness of the box hit him at full force as his door support disappeared and he caught a flash of blond hair and blue eyes before the earth started to tilt.

He scrambled to catch himself, but the box was too heavy, gravity sending him tumbling through the frame and over the box in a mess of limbs. His elbows hit the ground first, then his hands, the tip of his nose stopping just shy of a faceplant. As the corner of the box struck his solar plexus, air whooshed from his lungs, hair prickling on the back of his neck as danger loomed closer.

There’s something in this house.

“Holy shit, I think I killed him.”

Rolling to the side, Crean peered up as he struggled to catch his breath, blinking at the change in lighting from outside. His chest ached, his gut still spasming from the hit.

The man above him was definitely not his brother—not unless his brother had gained a few inches and a shit-ton of muscle with the smell of wolf clinging to his aura. He’d only met a select few werewolves in his life and never one with the sense of danger stuck to him like glue.

Hot damn. Wolves tended to be on the sleeker side, but this man was built, with crystal blue eyes and a jawline he could cut grass with. But that feeling— His skin prickled, his eyes watering as he struggled not to blink.

He shook his head. The full moon must’ve been looming closer than he’d thought. If Rian trusts him, he can’t be too bad. The house was big enough that Crean could always avoid him if he needed to.

Despite Rian being determined to move in with people who weren’t panthers, their mother had warned him about them…repeatedly. Wolves were different.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t think you’d be leaning on the door like that. You okay?” The hulk loomed down at him, holding out one hand when Crean didn’t answer. His nails didn’t look all that sharp, but that could change in an instant with a shift. A panther would win against a regular wolf, but not a shifter—especially one built like this guy. And I’m just a human.

“Yeah.” His voice came out as a strangled mess as the hairs on the back of his neck stood. The wolf wasn’t the only dangerous thing in the house.

Thumping footsteps reached them, and Rian appeared around the corner. His smile dropped as he rushed ahead, pulling Crean to his feet. “What the hell did you do to him, Conner? You okay, Crean?”

The familiar warmth of Rian soaked into him, pushing away the danger of everything else. His little brother had grown since he’d last seen him, but he was still the same person who had chased a ball of string around the house as a kitten and who had gotten stuck in an actual tree one day.

Their mother had been so pissed about the latter. It was hard enough to keep secrets from the majority of the human population when it came to shifters. They couldn’t hypnotize anyone like a vampire or faerie could, so they had to rely on stealth alone. Calling the fire department because of a baby panther stuck in a tree was the opposite of stealth.

“Yeah.” Crean let out a huff before pulling his hands free to rub at the back of his neck. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

He looked down the hall to the other curious onlookers that had appeared during the ruckus. His mouth went dry, and he cleared his throat. This is going to be hell.

All of them had to have been over six feet, leaving him the sole one in the five-foot club. And although he’d spent most of his life hanging out with people much stronger than him, he was way out of his league.

“No problem,” said Rian, throwing his arm over Crean’s shoulder. “Guys, this is my bro, Crean. Crean, this is Conner.” He pointed to the blond wolf. Conner sent him a small wave and a smile, apparently oblivious to Crean’s panic. “Then we’ve got Nate and Tristan.”

Nate was the shortest of the three strangers and maybe a bit leaner, his dark hair pulled back into a ponytail that was resting on one shoulder. His hair was silky and straight, and his skin glowed with a fierce unnatural paleness.

Tristan was the opposite, with light brown hair that was buzzed short. There was a speckling of dust on his hair and clothes, some of it sticking to his skin like it had painted itself to him while he’d been sweating.

Crean tried to keep his face passive as his magic touched them inadvertently. Rian was at his back, the same calmness that he remembered, but the other three were something very different. He tried to rein himself in, mustering a breath of control before it snapped.

Fuck. I promised myself it would be different this time. His magic surged beneath his skin like a wild animal, soaking into the house and the people around him against his will.

A metallic tang slid over Crean’s tongue as he shook Nate’s hand. He had to be a vampire, with life and copper clinging to him like a virus. He shook as he took Tristan’s hand next, trembling as the wrongness of the touch creeped in.

Faeries were dangerous, even more so than any other person in the world. They flitted through existence, lying and cheating unsuspecting folks who were just trying to get by. He hadn’t believed the rumors until it had happened to his own family. During a disagreement between families, one of his uncles had been murdered.

Then why is Rian living with one?

He took a half-step back, ducking closer to his brother. The familiar presence of family engulfed him in an instant. Crean gave the others a small wave before pointedly focusing on Conner. He was probably the safest bet out of the three. At least wolves were loyal.

“Nice to meet you,” said Tristan, brushing a bit of dust from his hair. His hands were thick but paler than any faerie he could recall. Usually, they were tanned and glowing from spending so much time in the sun and immersed with nature. At least he had the decency to keep his wings tucked away.

Maybe Tristan was mostly human, like a shifter who couldn’t turn into their animal but growled a little and got excited around a full moon. Or like me. It had been a shock to his family when a human had been born among them, but his mother had still cherished him.

“I’m gonna hit the shower, but I’ll order pizza before I jump in.” Tristan caught his gaze, before ducking his head and turning away. Crean shuddered, smoothing the front of his shirt as he fought the urge to fidget.

Fucking faeries. Always thinking they can have anyone or anything they want.

“Trying to get out of the real work, as usual,” said Rian with a snicker as he flipped Tristan off behind his back. “Crean, why don’t you look around, and we’ll bring your stuff in? We’ve got you set up on the second floor just past the bathroom.”

Rian gave him a pat on the back before nudging him into the house. He was gone before Crean could protest.