Quinn sat in the small office feeling closed in. He didn’t like the offices. They were too small, too tight, and had too much stuff in them. Vincent was standing behind his desk, explaining the Texas case to them, and Quinn checked out. They would tell him what to do and when. He didn’t need to follow along with the weird human things. He would offer his own opinion when it was asked for based on his own observations.

“You did what, Vincent?!” Elijah roared. Quinn was startled enough to nearly fall out of his chair.

“I didn’t expect you to be so angry,” Vincent muttered.

“You picked the absolute worst night to do that,” Elijah stressed, and Quinn frowned. What had he missed?

“To do what?” Quinn asked, and Elijah sighed, looking down at him.

“He had sex with Sawyer last night,” Elijah said.

Quinn watched his friend for a long a time, viewing how Elijah was taking that. He had a clenched fist, a sign that he was upset or frustrated. His jaw was set, and he didn’t have any sign of the normal, jovial attitude he normally did. Quinn rested a hand on his forearm and tilted his head to the side, trying to pretend to be okay. He held back his own possessive growl, swallowing it before it gave him away.

“And?” Quinn asked, bringing his eyebrows together. He wasn’t in this fight. He wasn’t going to go there. Sawyer didn’t see him as that sort of male, a male worthy of her affection. He knew that. Modern, civilized females wanted strong and intelligent males, ones that understood them and vice versa.

Quinn was just starting to enjoy reading for the first time in his life. He was the definition of not fit for a civilized human companion. He already counted himself lucky to have a friend in Elijah, and Elijah was more rugged than most humans. He was lucky to have any of them as friends. Until them, he’d only had his brothers, Shade and Scout.

“See? Quinn doesn’t mind,” Vincent huffed. Elijah turned a glare on Vincent.

“You picked the worst night,” Elijah said again. “The worst. I was just fucking asking Zander last night how he really felt about this. He’s not cool with it, by the way.”

“I didn’t think he would be,” Vincent muttered, looking cross.

Quinn just looked between them and finally groaned.

“Is this that stupid, human thing where you seem to think sex and emotions are the same thing?” Quinn asked, rolling his eyes. Vincent coughed, and Elijah gave a small chuckle. Quinn wanted to mate with her, be claimed as hers, but he didn’t pretend to think it would be anything more. He wanted to be owned and used by her more than any female before her.

Nothing more.

He didn’t understand the feeling in the pit of his stomach or the ache in his heart. He knew what the concept of feelings were, but he had no idea how to identify most of his own. He knew he was insanely physically attracted to her, much in the way he was with Elijah. Quinn was friends with her in the same fashion as he was the rest of the team.

This was something else. The idea of not being worthy of her brought on a feeling he’d never encountered before. Humans were complicated, and the emotions Quinn was feeling were a sharp reminder that he was human.

He didn’t like it.

“Yeah,” Elijah reassured him with a small laugh. “Yeah, this is that stupid, human thing.”

“Get over it,” Quinn chuffed. He would try to as well. Privately. “You were granted the privilege of a strong female’s bed. Be happy. The other guys should figure out how to do it themselves instead of get on you for earning that privilege.”

“Well,” Vincent cleared his throat. “It happened in my bed, but life just isn’t that simple, Quinn. And I know Elijah told you that Sawyer can’t be referred to as ‘a female’.”

“I don’t see why not,” Quinn said with shrug. “Well, I do about the female. She’s a woman. Sawyer’s a woman, that’s the right word. I shouldn’t use female, even though she is one.” He knew better, he really did. He just slipped up every so often, another reason he wasn’t worthy of her.

“I wish everyone thought like you.” Elijah chuckled. “The world would be so much simpler.”

“I thought you were upset?” Quinn frowned at him. “Why are you upset? You don’t care about who beds who, I know that.”

“I’m upset it happened last night. I knew it was going to happen, eventually,” Elijah informed him. Quinn nodded slowly. “I don’t think a drunk fuck was best course of action.” He directed that part at Vincent.

“How do you know it was under the influence?” Vincent retorted, glaring at Elijah.

“Well, you just confirmed it.” Elijah grinned. “And I know you. You were probably drunk as hell last night. Did you pull out the old home movies?”

“Damn you,” Vincent growled. “Yes. We were drinking. We were telling each other stories. We didn’t think it through. She tried to kill me on accident when she woke up. It happened, and it won’t happen again.”

Quinn sat up straight at that, and Elijah choked on his tongue. Quinn hadn’t missed what Vincent just said. What had their leader done for Sawyer, the deadliest predator in the house, to try and kill him?

“She tried to kill you on accident?” Elijah sputtered out. “Back the fuck up. What?”

“She had a flashback when she woke up,” Vincent whispered, looking away from them. “She didn’t know where she… she thought I was Axel.”

“Oh, fuck,” Elijah mumbled, finally falling into his seat. “Oh, fuck.”

Quinn thought about that for a minute. Vincent did have a resemblance to Axel, and Quinn knew what Axel had done to Sawyer. Quinn could relate to it on a level that made him uncomfortable. A part of him knew exactly why Sawyer would try to kill someone who reminded her of Axel. He knew so well. He just didn’t know how to relate that to them or to her. He never could find the words to express the very real pain he felt at Sawyer’s past—at his own.

He did understand this feeling, the gut wrenching pain when he thought of the young boy. Young boys, in his dreams. That pain in his heart was the most human thing he’d ever felt. And that was without the thought of the pain at losing an animal bond. He couldn’t imagine what he would do to someone who took Shade or Scout from him.

“I woke up when she jumped out of the bed. I sublimated away when she came after me,” Vincent continued as Elijah rubbed his face. “That must have pulled her out of it. She… she left after that.”

“Jesus,” Elijah groaned. “Well, this was just fucked up for everyone. Wait until Zander and Jasper find out.”

“He what?!” Zander’s scream made Quinn’s ears hurt.

“Yup. Right on time.” Elijah seemed like he’d known all along. “You might need to do that thing to stop him from destroying our office.”

Vincent swung toward the door as Zander shoved open, making the door slam into the wall with a thud and crack. Quinn went wide-eyed at the anger Zander was showing. He understood wishing to claim a woman as his own, but Sawyer wasn’t the type of woman to be claimed. Even Quinn knew that.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Zander growled, storming towards Vincent. Quinn and Elijah both stood but their moves to separate the two weren’t needed.

Vincent grabbed Zander’s shirt and slammed him into the wall before Zander had a chance to make a move. Quinn knew Zander was a good fighter, but Quinn knew that one should never fight with that amount of anger. Vincent’s cool head prevailed and gave him the upper hand.

Quinn watched Vincent touch Zander, who was cursing, on the face. Then Zander stopped moving completely. Only the slightest rise and fall of his chest. Vincent had used his petrification, something he rarely did. It drained him quickly to hold it, especially without continuing to touch the victim. Quinn cast a glance at Elijah, who shrugged and sat back down. Quinn did as well.

Vincent’s petrification could do one of two things. Something called a soft petrify, allowing the person basic life functions, and even speech—if the Magi allowed it—and a hard petrify, which would effectively stop all functions. A stone-like petrify. Both could be broken. Hard petrification had lasting damage to brain function and the health of the victim. Vincent rarely used the power at all, and when he did, it was only soft petrifies. No one could move a petrified person, and it required physical contact to start. Its limitations made it difficult to make terribly useful.

Vincent straightened his shirt and looked toward Jasper, standing in the open door. Jasper looked between them all and shuffled in, looking pissed off, but didn’t make a move. Quinn glanced at him and noticed the new leg. Elijah had already shown it to him and explained what it was so Quinn didn’t make any inappropriate comments on accident. Quinn thought it was quite interesting, truthfully. A good way for humans to compensate for injuries where, in the wild, they would become prey to other beasts, or unable to fend for themselves.

“Now,” Vincent growled, stomping to close the office door. It made Quinn feel trapped, especially now that five large males were all crammed into the small office. “I’m going to leave you there, Zander, until I figure out exactly what you know. I hope you didn’t fucking behave that way with Sawyer. She doesn’t deserve that fucking nonsense from you.”

“She also doesn’t deserve to get screwed over by another Castello,” Jasper growled at him. Quinn’s eyebrows went up, and he gave Elijah another look. Elijah’s face turned sour and he stood up slowly.

“Don’t ever go there, Jasper,” Elijah growled. “Don’t you fucking do it.”

Quinn knew Elijah and Vincent had a long friendship, and Quinn respected Elijah’s protectiveness over his friends. It was something that made Quinn enjoy his company even more.

“I am not my brother, you fucking perfect piece of shit,” Vincent snarled. Quinn saw Vincent’s eyes flash with something dangerous. He decided it would be best if he kept his mouth shut for the time being. Nothing he had to say would change the situation. “And I don’t appreciate the fact that you would even imply I would hurt anyone the way he did her. Years. We’ve been a team for years, and you’ve never crossed that line before. Don’t fucking do it again.”

“You fucked her while she was drunk.” Jasper snapped. “You are her fucking CO now. We could lose her if the WMC thinks we can’t make this work.”

“Oh, yeah,” Vincent hissed. “I’m supposed to be the person who worries about what the WMC will think, all the while you and Zander pant after her like a couple of dogs trying to hump her leg. No offense, Quinn.”

“I’m a wolf,” Quinn reminded him. He knew Vincent knew that. Why would Quinn take offense to it? It wasn’t like Vincent was calling him a dog… right? “So are Shade and Scout.” Elijah snorted, covering his face. Jasper open his mouth to say more, but Vincent growled.

“It happened. It won’t happen again,” Vincent continued, and Quinn shrugged. “And I’ll also fucking remind you that I was completely hammered. It doesn’t fucking make it okay, but there it is. Calm the fuck down. We have a case that we need to get ready for. We fly out fucking tomorrow.”

Sweat was now beading Vincent’s forehead. Quinn’s nostrils flared as he realized Vincent was pushing himself incredibly hard to continue holding Zander, who was probably fighting back as best he could. Quinn stood up and walked over to Zander and looked him over.

“I don’t think our female will appreciate your behavior,” Quinn whispered to him. “And she’ll come to me later looking for answers I can’t give her because I don’t understand. I’m taking you outside to cool down.”

Everyone in the room was silent as Quinn wrapped a hand in Zander’s shirt and looked over to Vincent.

“Let him go. You need your energy for the case,” Quinn told him, readying to handle Zander. It happened immediately, and Zander began to fall. Quinn held him by his shirt and dragged him out of the room. Zander cursed and spat and fought, but Quinn didn’t really care, Sawyer had put up a better fight the morning he’d thrown her in the stream, and she had still lost. He got Zander out into the hall and through the backdoor.

Then he threw Zander nearly five feet off the porch. Zander rolled twice before he stopped, covered in dust and looking furious.

“I come down for a cigarette, and I witness this wonderful sight.” Sawyer chuckled darkly. Zander was still cursing as he stood up and brushed dirt off himself. Quinn inhaled her vanilla scent deeply, enjoying it. It was softer than any scent he would have associated with her, but it also suited her. “What happened, guys?”

Quinn looked her over and felt his cock jump a little. She was wearing one of those sports bras (that’s what Elijah told him they were) and a pair of low riding sweatpants that showed him all her strong abdominal muscles. He wondered if the sweatpants might have been a little too low, since he could see a piece of what amounted to string on one side above the waistband. He had the urge to find out what that string led to.

He didn’t blame Vincent at all for taking whatever advantage he’d had.

Quinn just wasn’t going to make his own move. He liked her. She was a friend. And past the strange fascination he had with her, he didn’t really know what to do. He wasn’t worthy of her, and he accepted that.

The ache returned in his chest, and he held back a growl at it.

“He tried to attack Vincent,” Quinn told her. He thought about it for a moment. He should offer his support of her decision, let her know he was okay with it. “I hope Vincent… handled your needs. He’s a decent male, and I hope he proved himself.” A coughing noise came from Sawyer and he watched her pat her own chest as if something was in her lungs. “I believe that you should… talk to Zander, however.” He pointed to Zander. He hadn’t been expecting her to be down from her room, but it worked out for him. Talking about these things was a good, human way to resolve conflict.

“I think I should, too.” Sawyer sighed, looking from Quinn to Zander. Quinn saw the sadness in her eyes. He didn’t know why it was there. He wanted to comfort her, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to comfort her about. He couldn’t fight Zander. She didn’t need protection from anything.

He didn’t know what to do.

“Nah, I’m good,” Zander growled. “I don’t need or want to talk about it. You want to screw Vincent? Fine. Screw Vincent. When he hurts you, because he will, I’ll be here, and I’ll try not say ‘I told you so’.”

“The only person who’s hurt me in the last twenty-four hours,” Sawyer growled, “is me. Though I’m about ten seconds away from adding you to the list for that fucking comment.”

Quinn looked between them and decided he should just remain quiet.

“Sawyer,” Zander stuttered, looking surprised.

“I was planning on apologizing, but no,” Sawyer huffed. “I won’t stand here and get chastised for what I can and cannot do with my own body. Not by you, not by anyone.” Sawyer pushed her cigarette into the ashtray and went inside. Quinn turned to Zander with a glare.

“You know, she’s not the type of female who appreciates this behavior. You know that. Even I know that.”

“Stop calling her a female, Quinn,” Zander groaned.

“Woman. She’s not the type of woman who likes it,” Quinn corrected himself with a snort. He needed to stop making that mistake before she realized that he was doing it. “I’ll stop accidentally calling her a female when you stop purposefully hurting her.” Quinn saw a flash of emotion he didn’t understand in Zander’s eyes. It looked a lot like a feeling Quinn had.

Looking sick to his stomach, Zander sat down on the dirt. Quinn walked down into the grass and sat next to him.

Together they stared at the woods. Two very different males and friends. Quinn counted them all as friends, packmates in this world. Packmates needed the support of their community in moments of weakness. He would be here for Zander, now.

“You hold a lot of powerful emotions.” Quinn sighed. “But you let them dictate your actions when you should be planning. A good hunter waits for his prey to be vulnerable or in a position where they cannot escape. This normally works for you with weaker women, and they enjoy being chased, those women you go meet with Elijah. But… she isn’t prey. Sawyer doesn’t enjoy being chased. She’s another predator. An alpha in her own right. She has the choice. You must earn her choice. You must be a male worthy of her.”

They sat in silence, staring at the woods longer. Quinn wondered what Zander would say. He didn’t know if he’d said anything that would make sense to the very human Zander.

“Thanks, Quinn,” Zander huffed, still angry. “I’ll think about that.” Without anything else to say, Zander stood up and left Quinn sitting in the dirt.

Quinn was beginning to realize that Sawyer might have been right about how bad it was for her to indulge in a male when she needed to. This was a disaster.

He thought about his advice to Zander. Quinn was already applying it to his own life. He was working hard to maybe, one day, be worthy of her. For her to look at him like she did them. When she’d stood in his garden, holding those books, he’d seen a courage he should have expected from her. She smelled of fear, but she showed none of it. She just held out those books like she knew everything.

And she wanted to help him.

So, he wanted to learn. For her to find him worthy and not just the odd wild Magi who lived in the woods and hated going into town. He was fine with his male friends thinking that about him, but not her.

And he wanted to learn for himself so he could stop feeling this odd, heavy, awful burn in his chest.

When he got back to his garden hours later, he packed the books for their trip to Texas.