His phone rang.

Markus glanced down at the device, startled out of his thoughtful reverie. He sat in his bedroom even though it was the middle of a beautiful day and any other 23-year-old would have been out enjoying the weather. All sorts of papers littered his bed, which he had chosen in lieu of his desk to have more room to spread out.

Most of the papers were covered in fragments of map, which themselves were covered in little squiggles and notes. Markus occasionally couldn’t read his own handwriting, not that it mattered very much as he knew what he thought about particular locations.

For the past couple of weeks, he had been subtly patrolling various locations he found to be of particular interest. He checked for signs of peculiar activity, searching for some hint which might tell him what the next step in his investigation should be. Most of the time, he found nothing and his scrawled notes reflected this. However, he sometimes overheard snippets of conversation about a strange event on a street, or over at this beach; he was never able to do more than catch a glimpse as to the meaning of these observations but he took them to heart. At this stage, anything and everything was important.

Brock had at first been suspicious of what he was doing, only to pull a complete 180 degree turn when Markus explained. After that, he had his brother’s full cooperation and support. Conveniently, Markus neglected to mention that he was doing this to assist Destiny, who was running the other half of the investigation.

As a pack leader, Destiny had the right to do things more directly. He could ask his pack members questions without them becoming wary and guarded. He passed on any news that he heard, and Markus did the same with his own information. Between the two of them, they had managed to nail down exactly zero leads. That was disappointing for Destiny.

To Markus, each negative result only meant they were taking steps towards uncovering the truth. After all, if there was nothing to be found in a location, there was no reason to go back there again. Whoever was doing this would run out of places to hide sooner or later. When he finally cornered them, he was going to punch them as hard as he possibly could.

Until then, it was just a waiting game.

His phone gave a second ring as he picked it up. His phone had been ringing quite a lot recently, though less in the past couple of days. Brock would call him several times per day to check up on him, to make sure he hadn’t succumbed to a sudden blood clot or fallen prey to seizures or anything else the doctors suggested he watch out for—as if he wouldn’t notice such devastating things going on.

However, he had visited his regular doctor again, and the man had told him that he was pretty much in the clear as long as he didn’t go around headbutting things. Concussions typically weren’t a life-changing affair unless they were a repeated event. After receiving that news, Brock had really toned it down. As much as he loved his brother, Markus was thankful to be left alone to do what he pleased.

So, he didn’t look at the name of the person calling. He just answered, then tucked the phone between his cheek and shoulder. “Hey, bro. What’s going on?”

“I have bad news.”

The voice didn’t belong to Brock.

“Dusty? What’s going on?” Markus repeated the question, trying to get his mental footing. His ex-boyfriend, his recent lover, spoke those four words as if each one of them was incredibly heavy. They were boulders, tumbling roughly down the side of some terrible, jagged mountain.

“I have bad news.” Destiny also repeated himself, causing another avalanche. The sense of unease in the air increased. “Are you alone?”

“Yes. Are you okay? Dusty?”

“Bad news,” Destiny said, yet again. This time, he only muttered, a clattering of stones that following the thunderous collapses from before. “Stacy is dead.”

“Stacy? Holy fuck.”

Markus knew who Stiletto was, had followed along with her case like everyone else in the city. After she was released from the mental hospital, Destiny had taken her into his pack. A few media outlets reported on her induction into a motorcycle gang, although there had been no further follow-ups. The public lost interest in her, in favor of more sensational topics.

Markus hadn’t forgotten. He remembered thinking at the time it was just like his ex, to want to try and save someone like that.

He didn’t need to know the rest of the story, didn’t need to know what Destiny had been doing for Stiletto throughout the years, to be able to understand how terrible this was.

Destiny hadn’t said anything else. The only sound coming through the phone was breathing, painfully focused and steady.

“What happened, Dusty?”

“I think we need to meet up. Can you do that?”

Uh-oh. Oh, no.

Destiny had said Stiletto was dead. The real meaning of his words seemed to be that she was murdered.

Markus immediately started grabbing all the papers up off his bed, shuffling them into a stack. They might be useful, depending on where Stiletto died. “Yes, I can. Where do you want to go?”

“Sanders Beach.”

“Again?”

“It’ll be busy. We’ll be lost in the crowd.”

Returning to the same place together made it more likely that someone would see them together and rumors might get started, but Destiny made a good case. Rather than keep talking about this and wasting time, Markus nodded in agreement. He realized Destiny couldn’t see him and said aloud, “I’ll be there as fast as I can. If you get there ahead of me, just find somewhere to sit and wait for me. Okay?”

The line went dead as Destiny hung up without saying goodbye, leaving Markus listening to the faint echoing of his own breathing. He pulled the phone away from his face, then shoved the device into his pocket while hopping off the bed. He crossed to the door in only a few bounds, dashed down the hallway, and grabbed his keys off the hook by the front door.

His motorcycle was nothing special by itself, just your average, everyday, barebones cruiser that was a favorite of hardcore gangsters and amiable, adventurous grandfathers alike. He had infrequent bouts of affection for the bike, where he tweaked it using what he had picked up from other club members. Most of the time, it mattered as little to him as any other vehicle. It got him from point A to point B in a reliable fashion, and that was all he cared about.

Starting up the bike, Markus rode off through the neighborhood as fast as he could. The lonely roar of his engine disturbed the peace of the street, causing a few children to stop and stare at him.

“Slow the fuck down!” someone shouted. An adult voice, alternately irritable and terrified.

On an ordinary day, Markus would have flipped them the bird or something else equally as juvenile. Today, he just leaned over the handlebars and urged the bike faster.

The last time he went this specific route was when he traveled through with Destiny. He had specifically avoided going this way, to keep himself from dwelling on things that should be better left alone, and he was surprised now by how clear his thoughts were. The situation demanded focus. There was nothing to reconsider or doubt. Destiny needed him. And if Destiny needed him, he was going to be there.

Maybe that was wrong, or improper, a holdover from the past. No matter what, he didn’t care. Some things were more important than expectations and order.

He made it to Sanders Beach in record time. The journey felt like it took far too long anyway, despite all the corners he cut and lights he ran. Several other people yelled at him as he blazed past, even daring to honk. The sounds were insignificant, barely registering. As long as he didn’t hear a police siren, he figured he was golden.

The beach was packed together, the parking lot filled to brimming with all manner of vehicles, from other motorcycles to enormous RVs. One such RV released a vast quantity of children right in front of him, completely blocking off the entirety of the lane. After the children came an equally surprising amount of adults in various stages of beachwear. One-piece swimsuits could be found right alongside men in speedos so small they might as well just have been going around naked.

Markus could have shared a bit of wisdom with those men, that sand was going to find its way into all sorts of crevasses before the hour was up.

With utmost care, he urged his bike forward and wove his way through the teeming mass of children. A few of them came over to try and touch his bike. What little patience he still possessed finally snapped. He swatted those reaching hands away. “No,” he growled.

A pair of curious, offended eyes bored into him. He almost felt bad for his actions. He didn’t personally have much use for children, hadn’t really thought about anything related to family life since his breakup. All the same, he wondered how he would feel if some grumpy man shooed him away when all he wanted to do was satisfy his curiosity.

“Hey!”

He looked up, feeling like his sympathy had been dashed against the ground. Stomping towards him with a face the color of a tomato—sunburn or fury, he couldn’t tell—was a very large woman in a tiny yellow bikini. She jabbed a finger in his direction. She gave the impression of someone who was often very miserable and used to taking it out on others.

“Don’t you touch my child!” she bleated.

Explaining the situation to her would be useless, especially since she was still at a distance. The abundance of children were halting her progress, too.

A gap opened up in front of Markus, and he took it, revving the engine loudly. Small bodies darted out of his way like startled fish, and he slipped cleanly through the path they left behind in their wake.

There were no open parking spots, so he took his bike into the middle of one of those odd, yellow-striped gaps whose function he had never quite understood. He dumped the motorcycle, not bothering to properly park it, and grabbed the bag he’d brought along with him. Turning around, he nearly ran into Destiny.

“Dusty!” he exclaimed and acted without thinking. He tossed his arms around the alpha’s neck, hugging onto him as hard as he could. Destiny’s hair draped over his wrist and the sensation was all wrong, dry and scraggly rather than perfectly groomed.

After a moment, Destiny lifted his own arms and held onto him in return. Comforting warmth surrounded Markus; he relaxed into it with a feeling that was a little like guilt, knowing he should be the one who was giving comfort right now. Destiny should be the one receiving it.

To that end, Markus moved his hands to Destiny’s shoulders and leaned back so that they were looking right into each other’s eyes. Those mismatched gemstones, blue and brown, were clouded and sorrowful.

“Destiny, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“No,” Destiny replied truthfully. He lifted one of his own hands, passing it over his face to shove hair out of the way. Markus had never, ever known Destiny to have a single hair out of place before. “I just can’t believe that this has happened. Especially not to her. She was coming so far.”

“I know,” Markus said soothingly, figuring that a little white lie in this scenario wouldn’t hurt. He would never be able to know what this sensitive, dedicated alpha was feeling about the death of someone he had worked so hard for. He would never understand all the hours put into the baby steps of progress, the days of worry and planning spent on something that would now never be. All he could know was that this was an injustice that never should have happened.

Destiny’s shoulders slumped. He looked as if he was a Russian nesting doll, a much smaller version of himself revealed after layers had been shed in grief. “We should go talk about this. What’s in the bag?”

Markus stroked his fingers gently over the other man’s shoulders, trying to provide what reassurance he could. “I brought along my maps. I thought they might be useful. Depending.” He dropped his hands away from Destiny and opened the bag, lifting the papers out to show the other wolf.

“Smart. That’s a lot more paper than I was assuming.”

“I’m very thorough.”

“For once in your life.” The corner of Destiny’s mouth quirked upward with a shadow of amusement. “You’re going to park here?”

“I am.”

Destiny shrugged, apparently unbothered by this. He started to walk off in the direction of the beach, zigzagging through the parking lot to avoid running into other people. “You’re probably going to get a ticket. I’ve seen some cops around.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Since before I called you. I couldn’t think of anything else to do. Isn’t that pathetic? The fucking pack leader leaves the police station, where he’s just finished giving his statements, and instead of going home to comfort his pack, he runs away to the beach.”

“That’s not pathetic,” Markus said. He reached forward, caught Destiny’s hand as it swung back with his walk, held onto it tightly for a moment before letting it drop again. At least, he tried to let go. Destiny kept holding on.

Hand-in-hand, they went down the same path they had walked a few weeks ago, past the bathrooms and the food huts and into the dunes. The sun was high overhead, a golden globe in a cloudless, postcard-perfect sky. Tourists clustered everywhere, trying to eke out some enjoyment from the crowded conditions. There would be no privacy in the midst of so much chaos. At the same time, there were so many people around that no one would give their conversation anymore thought than they would to any other overheard snippet of business talk.

They found a dune near several other beachgoing families who were close enough to provide cover, while also being far enough away that they wouldn’t care about what the two random men behind them were discussing.

Destiny stopped on top of the hill, looking out across the ocean. Markus turned to follow his gaze, seeing a beautiful landscape horizon where glassy green met pure blue, and knew it wasn’t the same sight Destiny was glimpsing. The alpha sighed and lowered himself down, his legs folded neatly. When he rested his hands on his knees, he looked like a monk contemplating the very purpose of the world.

Markus sat down beside him, stretching his legs out in front of him. Reaching out, he placed one of his hands on top of Destiny’s. When the other man didn’t pull away, he folded his fingers down into the gaps and held on tightly. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. He had no right to say this, just as he had no right earlier to say that he understood when he really never would be able to, but he felt that it needed to be said all the same. He believed it.

He wished Destiny would believe it, too. For once, the alpha needed to stop thinking so much. It was one of his best traits, his ability to understand absolutely everything that came his way by stripping it all down to the bare parts. It was also one of his worst, simply for the exact same reason. Some things couldn’t be understood. They couldn’t be dissected. They just were. A person had to trust in some things, and Destiny just wouldn’t.

“It’s not going to be okay,” Destiny replied, exactly as Markus had known he would. “She’s dead. I couldn’t save her. I failed her.”

“You couldn’t save her because you didn’t know this was coming.”

“I should have known. There must have been some sort of sign that I missed. I’m responsible.”

“What sign? You and I had all of this covered forwards and backwards, top to bottom,” Markus insisted. He gently squeezed Destiny’s hand then stroked his thumb over his tense knuckles. “There was nothing that we missed.”

“How do you know?” Destiny demanded, voice sharp and rough all at once. A few of the others around them glanced over, then went back to their own business. Destiny didn’t even seem to notice their momentary attention. “There are always signs. Always. If I had seen them, I could have done something to prevent this.”

They were only going to go in circles if they kept this up. Markus tried a different tactic. “But so far, it’s only been members from LF who were attacked. Pockets. Jacob. Reuben, and me.” He ticked off each name by lifting a finger from his free hand. Destiny stared resolutely out to sea, not even seeming to notice this gesture. “That was the established pattern.”

“Yeah, and I was foolish to think for even a second that was going to stay the pattern. Whoever is doing this wants conflict on both sides. If they kept attacking you, everyone would assume it was SC. I should have predicted that my own pack would be targeted. I shouldn’t even have needed to predict it, because we agreed on that at the very start! I should have started laying down rules, letting everyone know what was going on instead of acting in secret.” Destiny thumped his fist in the sand at his side, a spasm of grief crossing his face. He struck at the sand again, then abruptly gave up and slumped forward. Sunlight caught in his hair, making it look glossier than ever.

He always kept his hair so rigorously perfect. This untamed, one-day-unwashed look was quite a bit more natural and appealing. It made him look like a wild man. Markus felt a slow, guilty tingle of warmth deep in his groin. Wild man or not, Destiny had been so gentle with him when they were having sex. He was so attentive, so patient. Now he was in pain, and there was nothing Markus could do for him in return to make this situation any better.

This was not the time to agree with him, to tell him that he really did need to start relying more on the people around him. A leader was not a dictator. Destiny wasn’t an island. He was part of a system that would gladly support him to the very end, if only he would allow it.

If Markus said that, if he gave in to Destiny’s opinions of himself, he would only add fuel to the fire of despair. Rather than do that, he leaned over slightly so their shoulders settled firmly together. “What happened? How did you find out?”

“I got a call very early this morning, from the police department. A woman was found dead a few blocks away from the library.”

Markus knew the place. Pensacola Library, the only library in the city. The building was only one of many down that road, but it was difficult to miss because of its enormity. Fashioned of good-old red brick, the front doors were entirely glass, surrounded on either side by enormous windows. Inside, there were a number of staircases and entryways that all led to various rooms, some of which were themed.

The library actually managed to hold his interest more than a person might have thought, being that his attention span was usually so short. All the different themes, the abundance of things to see, was what really drew him to the place when he was younger. That wasn’t to say he’d been an avid reader, though.

Destiny continued, speaking mostly to the sand. “Her body was already removed, taken to the funeral home. To the morgue.”

I never realized how ugly of a word that is.

“They said that I was her contact. They wanted me to come down and identify her.”

“How did they know that you were taking responsibility for her?”

“There’s a card in her wallet. It has all my information. And she has this bracelet that I gave her. I don’t think she ever realized that it had my name and number engraved on it. So, easy to tell that I would know who she was. And even though she had all her other cards in her wallet, they still wanted me to come down and take a look. Just in case. I agreed. So, they had a cop there waiting for me.

“I looked at her, muffin. It was real damn bad. I followed her murder trial closer than anyone else did, and I remember the pictures of what she did to that abusive fuck. I haven’t let myself forget. Because she’s still capable of that. Was. She was. I knew she wouldn’t get a second chance if anything ever happened, so I had to remind myself of what she could do so that I could protect her from herself.”

It was at this point Destiny moved, leaning slightly over against Markus. They were propping each other up, relying on one another.

“But those pictures they showed during the trial were just nothing compared to what was done to her. It was brutal. It was savage. It was just…It couldn’t have been quick. And she didn’t deserve that.”

Markus didn’t even need to hear any details to understand exactly the level of devastation that must have been wrought on poor, unsuspecting Stiletto.

“But, she was still…her. Those fucking pigtails. The mismatched clothes. And her face. Whoever did this didn’t touch her face. She looked so confused. As if she was asking me why, why, why, wondering why I wouldn’t answer.” Destiny abruptly covered his face with one hand. His fingers trembled, nails pressing against the skin along his cheek, temple, and jawline. Glimmering tears tracked their way down his cheeks, which were covered in prickles of stubble that looked so out of place.

Quite suddenly, Markus hated the wild man look. It wasn’t attractive at all, because it wasn’t Destiny. That made him angry, a knot like a ball of writhing snakes forming around his heart. Whoever was doing all this was going to fucking pay.

“Markus, she was doing so much better. Still more bad days than good ones, and if she was aware of her surroundings at all, it was a miracle. But she was happy. She said she was. She was keeping her journal, just like she was supposed to for therapy. I was going to see if she could take another step back into society. If not living somewhere else, then a real job for a few hours every week instead of plodding around the garage looking for things to do. She was going to get there. Someday. Now she won’t ever have that chance, because they took it from her.”

Lifting up his other hand now, Destiny held both of them over his face. He lowered his head as if trying to hide, but the tears he shed still seeped down and dripped off his chin. Where the droplets landed, the moisture was quickly evaporated by the sun.

“Look at me,” he choked out, his voice a ragged sob of despair. “The fucking alpha. The goddamned leader. Crying. Acting like a stupid baby.”

“Stop it!”

Destiny turned his covered face slightly toward Markus’ direction, then made as if to look away again. Markus wasn’t about to let that happen. He grabbed onto Destiny’s face, hands and all, holding them in place. He moved onto his knees, bringing his forehead close to Destiny’s so the alpha could feel his nearness.

“Stop it!” Markus commanded again, his tone growing a little softer. “You’re the fucking alpha, the goddamned leader, but you’re also just a man. You can’t expect to be invincible all the time. You’re going to drive yourself into the ground.”

“How do you do it?”

Markus blinked, a little taken aback. He didn’t understand the question, didn’t know why it was asked in such a sudden and commanding manner.

“How do you do it, Markus?” Destiny repeated. He dropped his hands down from his face, revealing mismatched eyes drowning in tears. Despite their flooded nature, those eyes were still so searching, reaching out, wondering if help would come in time. “You’re always so goddamned positive. Two members of your pack dead. You were badly hurt. And after our breakup, whenever I saw you, you seemed just fine. How do you do it? How do you keep going?”

Markus kept his hands around Destiny’s face, kept their foreheads together as if he was about to share a secret between the two of them. Maybe he was. Maybe what he was about to say was genuinely something that Destiny had no idea of.

“I keep moving,” Markus replied, softly, slowly. “Even when I shouldn’t. You give so much of yourself. And you give and you give, and you never take. You never do anything for you.”

And I do too much for me.

“You never ask for help. You never rely on anyone. You never take a break. You never just stop. You’re never in the moment, always ten steps ahead of yourself. I just do whatever I want, even when I shouldn’t.”

“I came to you when I needed help, didn’t I? When Brock wouldn’t listen to me? That’s how I do it.”

“You make it sound so easy, and it’s not. I’m an alpha. We aren’t supposed to act that way.”

“Who gives a fuck?” Markus snapped. He felt a fierce gaze drilling into the back of his skull, warning him to watch his language. Probably some mother, trying to protect her child from the ugly side of the world. “You alphas think about things so weirdly. Going it alone isn’t being strong. Pushing yourself until you’re all gone isn’t strong. Knowing what your limits are, knowing that you aren’t alone, that’s strength. Knowing you aren’t in control, instead of just pretending you are when everything’s falling apart, is strength. And courage. And all the rest of the things you macho idiots like to think you have a plethora of.”

Destiny seemed to think about this declaration for a very long time, as if the words he’d just heard were clever and wise. Markus had no idea if that was the case. He’d only said what his heart felt, giving voice to the thoughts he’d been having about Destiny for ages. “And what about omegas?”

“I don’t know about other omegas,” Markus replied truthfully. “But I know I’ve been stupid in the past.”

“You sure have.” Destiny gave a small, wretched sound, then scrubbed his face with his hands. He seemed to be trying to pull himself together, though his grief couldn’t have been anywhere near spent.

You stubborn piece of work, Markus thought affectionately.

Destiny was so strict, so firm in his beliefs.

Markus knew that he, himself, was too flexible. His flaw as an omega was that he was too willing to go along, whether that was because he had been told that was his place in life or if it was a result of his own personality. He had given in, switched tactics, followed a different path the moment this one grew too hard.

Together, they might have balanced each other out if they had only known how to do so. They were so young still back then, so stupid.

If they were going to learn these things, it was better late than never.

Markus closed his eyes, made a silent and solemn vow that he would see this through to the very end no matter what happened.

When he opened his eyes again, Destiny had mostly put all his pieces back together. His cheeks were still marred by tear tracks, his eyes red and watery, but he looked more like himself than he had during this entire conversation.

Destiny pulled in a deep breath, then let it out through his nose. His nasal passages must have been clogged from crying, the air whistling as it exited. Markus found himself smiling a little at the funny sound, taking comfort in this harsh world wherever it could be found.

“After I told them that it was definitely Stacy, the cop followed me down to the station and asked if I knew anything about what had happened. I told him pretty much everything and what I thought the reason for all this was. He showed me some pictures of the crime scene, asked if anything in them jogged my memory.”

“And did they?” Markus held his breath, feeling like he was right on the cusp of some grand discovery for some reason.

“Most of the pictures were of nothing. Stacy’s belongings that she had with her, the same stuff she always took when she’s out and about. The ground. The walls. I think they were the control photos, because nothing struck me until the picture of the switchblade. Did you know that it’s illegal to manufacture those, now? They make assisted-opening knives now, but they aren’t the same thing. That’s what the cop told me.”

Faint, tingling alarm bells started ringing in the back of Markus’ mind. “What switchblade?”

“Black handle. Golden blade. It looked very old, very loved. What? What is it?”

“Was there a long scratch going down the length of the grip? From screw to screw, pretty much?”

Destiny shook his head. His eyes were abruptly dry, focused and narrowed with interest. “I couldn’t tell. It was just a photograph. They take them before moving around the crime scene. The lighting might have been bad. Or the angle. Or…there was a lot of blood. You know something.”

“I know who that blade belongs to.” His thoughts felt like they were going numb, the alarm bells having morphed into a sort of white noise that slowly filtered forward until it was all that he was aware of. “That’s Isaac’s knife. Isaac Reed. Remember when I told you about the meeting, he was the only one who supported me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Surer than I’ve ever been. Hard to miss a knife like that. He was always cleaning it, was so proud of being able to flaunt it around because of how old it was. I guess the age is what made it legal?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Do you think he did this?”

“Fuck, no.” Markus shook his head vehemently. “It’s the same reason why your own knife was used. Shit, if it got around that Isaac’s weapon was used in this attack, that would cause so much confusion. He gives support, then takes it away? No one would trust him. It would make the whole pack uneasy.”

“This is escalating, Markus. It’s only going to get even worse. Goddamn. And I can’t even bring this to the police. Or should I?”

Markus tilted his head. “Why can’t you tell them that it belongs to Isaac?”

“I was told not to say anything about the investigation, not to anyone. If I go in and tell them that my boyf…my friend knows who the blade belongs to, it’s going to be obvious that I yapped.”

“And I can’t do it on my own, so it’s the same problem. But I think we should do it anyway. Remember what I said about asking for help?”

Destiny stared restlessly down at the sand at his side, stirring it around with one finger. “I guess you’re right. I should go take care of that as soon as I leave here.”

“Fuck that. I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

“I’m coming with you,” Markus repeated firmly. “I’ll make it seem like I goaded you into it. They won’t blame you. And I should be the one to testify that I don’t think Isaac had anything to do with this. It’ll mean more for me to say it than for you to, because I know him.”

“Are you and this Isaac very friendly?”

“Is that jealousy that I detect?”

Destiny said, “No,” a bit too quickly.

“Uh-huh.”

Why was it almost exciting for Destiny to be jealous? Because it meant there was still interest there, interest that went further than simple sexual desires? Feelings that had outlasted the test of time, the trial of years?

“Well, for your information, I haven’t been friendly like that with anyone. Not since you. Are we going to talk about what happened between us on the beach now?”

“Do you think we should?”

“You know what they say,” Markus joked. “Don’t mix business with romance.”

Destiny tried to smile and failed. He picked himself up from the sand then reached a hand down for Markus. “When this is all over.”

It didn’t seem like a question, but neither was it a statement of fact. Uncertain, excited by this uncertainty in a way he couldn’t quite fathom, Markus let Destiny help him up. Hands still clasped together, they left the beach and headed to talk to the police together.