Liam groaned, eyes cracking open. Too bright white stabbed through his slitted lids. With a sharp hiss, he screwed them shut and flinched back. Another groan dripped out of him. The fuzziness of coming back to consciousness was not something he could ever get used to, no matter how many times Theo tried to 'help' him learn.
A pain-ridden echo punched through the fog, " You don't have to stop. "
A sizzling jolt of panic catapulted him forward, eyes snapping open. The sterile white light bathing the room still stung, but he didn't care. His wolf started howling, blindly scratching at the walls of his mind. Something tangled around his legs as he tried to leap from the bed, claws sliding from his fingertips, slicing through the thin fabric and mattress like a hot knife through butter. A snarl leeched out as his body swayed, threatening to crumple. There was barely a puff of smoke left in his batteries, but he needed to move.
He had to move.
Another deep snarl filled the room as he tried to forcibly shove himself up. Deep pulling in his abdomen made him pause, dropping back onto the cot, chest, and shoulders heaving. The room spun around him, the door too close and far away within the same blink. He drew in a steadying breath, only to gag repeatedly. The air was nauseatingly stale and nose-twistingly sharp, a high contrast to the cold blankness of the concrete in his and Scott's cell.
A wave of metallic blood swamped his senses. The muted shouting in his ears grew to unmistakable roars. His, Scott's, Theo's…. No matter how hard he shook his head, the image refused to leave. Scott's quiet pleas rang in his ears, somehow drowning what Liam knew was his blood-curdling roar.
"Scott!" His voice pitched up as he forced his chest off the floor, something wet creeping under his palms.
Liam's arms shook, teetering on the edge of giving out beneath him. He growled wordlessly in tandem with his wolf. Tears streaked down his cheeks, tumbling faster as his chest shook from more than the rumble. His hands moved, slipping over the plastic tile. He dug his claws into the ground, glancing down. His alpha's bleeding almost-corpse swam into his vision again, closely followed by the chimera's blood-splattered and broken face, unceremoniously forcing the air from his lungs.
"Theo…" His arms gave out as his whole frame shuddered.
He couldn't have. There was no way. On his best days, it was a miracle if he beat the chimera in hand to hand, let alone under the influence of whatever those maniacs forced into him and Scott. He was strong, sure, but the chimera was faster and was just generally better. Not to mention, Theo never lost a fight, not when it mattered.
"Hey," a soft voice cut through the swarm of half-memories.
Liam's head shot up, the snapping force making his head spin. Every fiber of his body was taut like a rubber band stretched and scant millimeters from snapping. Melissa McCall kneeled beside him, stretching a careful hand carrying her permanently antiseptic-soaked cinnamon scent toward him.
He shoved against the slick ground with whatever strength was left in his limbs, barely managing to scoot himself anywhere. The lack of distance made his pulse quicken further as true panic gripped him. A whining shriek curdled in his throat, his body protesting the sharp movements and betraying him in the same breath. His lungs struggled to take in anything more than ragged, uneven breaths, stuttering over the familiarity of the scent as he clawed his way to a hunched sitting position.
This smelled like home and looked like home, but it wasn't real. It couldn't be. Melissa held grudges better than Stiles, and this was the second time he had dug his claws into Scott. No way in hell she would be this kind. Not to him. Not again. And why should she? He killed her son once and swore he'd never lay a claw on him again. Swore up and down on his life, his loyalty, and his place in the pack. Mind fuckery or not, it didn't change the fact that it was his hands that hurt his alpha again.
"Liam, can you hear me?" She asked, staying where she had knelt down, voice somehow soft and demanding simultaneously.
Must be where Scott got it from , he scoffed at himself. With a snarling growl, he shook his head, scrunching his eyes closed tight as he could manage and throwing his hands over his ears. This was just another cruel nightmare or hallucination from that weird gas stuff. Tears prickled at his eyes as his claws dug into his scalp, sending a sobbing gasp wracking through him, shaking the droplets gathering at the wounds loose. He had to get control of himself.
Phantom hands touched his shoulders, ghosting over his arms before curling around his hands. The same cinnamon and antiseptic scent swamped his senses, beckoning him to fall into it. He shrank back as best he could, but the grip was firm, almost pulling his claws from his scalp.
"You're safe, I promise," Melissa said, her words muffled by his hands, but the quiet compassion reached deep into him. "You and Scott both."
Yet another shuddering breath ran through him. Her scent was thick with worry and love, the same love as it had since they made peace. None of his nightmares had that. They constantly taunted him with the sooty bitterness of contempt or her broiling acrid anger. He cracked open his eyes, almost hoping nothing was there, freezing as he was met with her unwavering gaze.
The warmth and desperation in the depths of her brown eyes rolled over him, loosening his death grip over his ears. With a tame smile, she guided both their hands to his lap, her grip tight as ever, grounding him as best she could. His claws slowly shrank back into nails the longer she held onto his shaking hands.
Without warning, he crumpled into her, no longer caring if it was a nightmare or hallucination, even though he was pretty sure it wasn't. The howls in his ears were fading, being replaced by her gentle musings as she extricated her hands from beneath him. His chest ached as he curled further into her lap, yearning for more safe contact.
"Easy, kiddo, I've got you," she whispered, rubbing gentle, slow circles in his back.
Hands swept lightly down his back, pulling what was left of the shredded gown over him before lifting his chest to hers and wrapping her arms around him, fully enveloping him in her scent. The familiar warmth of it and her steady embrace settled in his bones. Heavy as his own arms felt, he lifted them and hugged her back, burying his face into her shoulder, tears tumbling in torrents.
—
Liam sighed, a wince pursing across his face as he shifted in the hospital bed. It had taken a while for Melissa to get him up, let alone in the bed, especially since she was helping him by herself. Of course, he woke up after she sent everyone home to rest. He had the best timing.
"None of them have left the hospital since you and Scott came in," Melissa said with a smile as she folded a blanket over her arm. "They should be back soon."
The door creaked open, letting a growing sliver of light filter in along with the tepid swampiness of familiar anxiety. Melissa turned with a smile to the door, beckoning Mason in. It took 0.2 seconds for the newcomer to find Liam's eyes and break into the biggest smile. Relief flooded the room as his best friend bolted to the bed, barely skidding to a stop in time to only gently nudge the frame.
"I'll be back in an hour or so to check the new sutures, okay?" Melissa said, half out the door.
Liam nodded and gave a weak thumbs up over Mason before returning the hug as best he could. His arms were weak and heavy as lead, but that didn't stop him from holding Mase as close to him as physically possible.
"It's good to have you back," Mason said, his arms loosening around Liam as he stepped back. "How bad does it hurt, 1-10?"
"I don't know. Bad," Liam answered with a half-shrug and sigh.
"Anything I can do?"
He shook his head, a soft smile creeping to his cracked lips, "Probably not."
"Want me to stay?"
This time Liam nodded emphatically, stilling his head with a wince and squeak as the world spun lightly. Healing was always the worst part of the supernatural shit show, as far as he was concerned. It was so far removed from what he was used to before the bite and not what he was expecting. Movies made super-healing seem like an amazing superpower. Boy, were they fucking WRONG.
Mason gently plopped down next to him, stirring him from his musings and pulling him back to the present. He looked to his friend, taking in the tightly wrapped bandages going all the way down one arm from shoulder to his hand and the various scratches marring his face.
"How bad?" Liam asked, eyes dropping as his voice shrank.
Air refused to enter or leave his lungs as he waited for Mason's reply. He had to know if his nightmare was real and if he really did what he thought he did to Theo. His best friend would tell it to him straight or, at the very least, straighter than anyone other than the chimera. Everyone else would try to protect him, minimize the damage or put blame everywhere other than his own claws.
"It wasn't pretty. Stiles' whole plan blew up in our faces, but that's nothing new, is it?" Mason huffed out a wimpy half-hearted chuckle. "Almost everyone came out banged up, but mostly okay. Malia, Isaac, Scott, and you were the worst."
A shaky breath whooshed out of him. If he wasn't on the worst off list, then he didn't mangle Theo as bad as the glimpses made it seem. He almost fell flat back onto the bed with the weight of relief flooding his veins. The chimera was safe, or at least not dead, which was progress from what had been burned into his head.
"There's something you should know, Li, about Theo," Mason said, his heartbeat panicking underneath his quiet, slow voice. "He… He, uh, when we were getting you and Scott under control, he too-took a beating, and," Mason blinked back the tears that were gathering in his eyes and swallowed loudly, trying to calm his racing heart, "Stiles put me in charge of getting him out, but he-he heard the hunters closing in fast, too fast h-he said. He told me to get you out a-and then he ran back in."
"But he's fine, right? You didn't say he was one of the worst off," Liam sputtered, confused by the sharp sadness rolling off his friend. "He's Theo Raeken for fuck's sake, he's damn near invincible, he's gotta be fine, right?"
Mason's eyes were glued down at the thread-bare blanket despite the skyrocketing pulse nearly beating out the side of his friend's neck. A pit cracked open in Liam's gut as he parsed through the chemosignals that were rolling over him. The briny ripples of sadness intermingled with the caustic, metallic bit of fear and anger were drowned by the sooty, swampiness of anxiety riddled with disappointment.
"You got him out, right? No man left behind. Mase, where is he?" Liam's throat was so tight he barely got the words out.
"He…" Mason's whole face screwed tight in the worst pained expression Liam had seen in recent years. "They got him, Liam. He's still with them."
The typically spacious McCall living room was damn near ready to pop. Nearly every horizontal surface was buried beneath at least one supernatural creature or another. There were faces he had never seen and names he swore he had never heard being lost beneath the cacophonous drawl. With how spread out the pack getting even half the entire pack together was a struggle and a half. It should have been exciting, having everyone back under one roof again, but Liam's wolf always added, Almost everyone. Liam sighed wordlessly, raising his knees to his chest, arms crossing tightly atop them.
Twisting his head to the side, he buried his nose in the crook of his crossed elbows, inhaling the vestiges of Theo's scent. The dense mustiness enveloped him once more, both settling his wolf and triggering a new round of keening whines. He didn't even remember stealing this one, but he was glad he did. Theo's scent was the only thing keeping his wolf from stirring up an even bigger storm, especially with everyone trying to keep him out of the loop.
Three days with no information had been pure torture. The hospital room barely survived the first three hours, even with Scott trying to talk him out of the shift. Liam shuddered at the mere memory of the rage that had been coursing through him. If Mason hadn't walked back in with the hoodie, he didn't want to think about what could have happened. Without his anchor, there was no telling how far he would backslide or how dangerous he would get. After all, he was a ticking time bomb with superpowers.
Another tingle crept up his neck. His hands tightened around his arms in time with a sharp inhale that caught in his lungs. There was nothing there. Hadn't been since the morning after they had stormed the compound. Still, his claws threatened to slide out, his wolf desperate to claw at the long-since-healed injection site. Mason had looked at it twelve dozen times since he'd been back, and every time he would say the same thing.
"There's nothing there," he said, barely using any of the half-breath in his lungs.
Mason nudged him, drawing Liam's focus back to the physical room. He quickly caught his friend's eye, offering an attempt at a soft smile. The answering, gentle roll of lemon from his best friend let Liam turn his attention back to the greater group.
He rolled his shoulders, stretching his torso and taking a deep breath. The awkward tang of Stiles' ever-anxiety-ridden scent mixed with Derek's old spice deodorant and the pharmaceutical stink of the human's medication battled with Lydia's oxymoronic crisp lavender that he could never figure out if it was natural or some kind of perfume to cover up the lingering touch of smoke from living with a hellhound and the tens of other scents from the worldwide crew. It almost settled him, but the clench of his stomach and the sharp whine of his wolf reminded him, yet again, of the one scent missing.
"He'll be fine, Liam."
"How, Mase? What she does, it's…" Liam's words trailed off, leaving a nervous flutter in his chest as his ribs tightened.
There weren't words to describe what he could remember, or if there were, he didn't have them. The best he had gotten out had only barely scratched the surface. Still, the sharp bite of fear and pity raging to life in people's chemosignals had shut down any subsequent attempts. A heavy sigh pushed through Liam's nose, teeth grinding as his jaw tightened.
"Because he's him, and he survives, no matter what," Mason said in a steady tone which his heartbeat completely contradicted.
Surviving was in a coyote's DNA, but there was only so much anyone could be expected to live through. Theo had already survived the Dread Doctors, Hell with his sister, taking on the Wild Hunt single-handedly, living on his own on the streets during the Anuk-ite, and Stiles' eternal judgment day. How many times could one person really be expected to trump the odds?
"Stiles!" Derek growled , his shoulders rippling as he pinched the bridge of his nose. A defeated sigh slid from the wolf, "Why are you like this?"
"It's part of my charm. And the unmedicated ADHD," Stiles chuckled, halfway between grimacing and grinning.
"You said you took them this morning!"
"I may have exaggerated that fact."
"Can we get on topic, please?" Lydia said, loudly rolling her eyes at the tiffing couple.
Liam couldn't help how he smiled at their antics. It was a blissful moment of almost normal.
Another shrieking echo rang in his ears, sending another shudder down his spine. He cut off his inhale, doing his best to smother the huffing growl in his tightening throat and the frustration he hoped he was actively keeping out of his chemosignals. Unfortunately, the pack didn't have the bandwidth to worry about more than one thing at a time right now, courtesy of their truly impressive number of idiotic geniuses.
The screen across from him lit up, black turning to blue and then to a computer desktop. He glanced over at Mason as Corey appeared from thin air in front of the TV, drawing everyone's full attention.
"Mason and I, uh, we think we know, kinda, mostlyish, how the hunters are hijacking the wolves," Corey said, his heartbeat loud enough to reach any supernatural creature in Beacon Hills.
"How? Chris and I couldn't find anything on them, even in the historical records," Derek said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.
"We got lost and took the time to do some snooping before everything went to shit," Corey answered, half-mumbling. "A-anyway, from what Mase and I got, these guys have cooked up a whole new level of sadistic evil genius, even from the Dread Doctors."
Liam glanced around the room, repeatedly rolling the side of his lip between his teeth. The Doctors were not something any of the pack wanted to remember. Fathoming something worse had sounded impossible, but after being subjected to it, that was the closest thing Liam could think of. He shuddered, a non-existent stickiness coating his hands as his neck tingled again.
Corey cleared his throat, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, clearly unnerved by the pack's dry stares. Liam couldn't blame him. Public speaking was never one of his friend's strong suits, even before he got the power to disappear.
"They created a new wolfsbane," Mason stated plainly from beside Liam. "A completely new strain and that's about all we got."
"And you're just sharing this now?" Stiles asked, hands twirling as his face crinkled asymmetrically.
"We were going over it, trying to figure it out and sort through everything we got, because there are other parts of the file that talk about frequencies and have a list of several with annotations like 'control and commands,' 'sleep' but I can't figure how they work with the plant," Corey replied, gesticulating at the laptop.
Lydia stood, sighing for the umpteenth time that night, and made her way to Corey, effectively shooing him out of the way to take his spot.
It was barely a minute before she sat back and pointed at the page, "That's barbaric."
"What? Lyds, what is what?" Stiles tried to hover over her once again.
Liam almost smiled at the renewed half-glare she leveled at Stiles as she shifted to face back to the rest of the pack, but the twinge of nauseating swampiness rippling off of her made him freeze. Her fear set off goosebumps along his arms and raised the hair along his neck. Lydia Martin was never scared. Not since he'd known her.
"They're using subharmonic frequencies and the wolfsbane to influence and control any wolf, similarly to the Dread Doctors. Instead of just screwing with memory, they're using it to weaponize werewolves." Lydia pulled up a picture and zoomed in, circling the text off to the side, "The way they described the effect, the plant is meant to activate the amygdala, triggering the hyper-aggressive state while kicking the wolf into a heightened fight-or-flight response-"
"Lydia, cliff notes," Scott said, rubbing his temples.
"They found a way to suppress the human and control the wolf elements of werewolves. Complete and total control," Lydia said.
Everyone around him erupted, acrid anger and the suffocatingly putrid stench of fear inundating him. Liam's jaw clenched, a quiet, barely-there growl rumbling through his chest, led by the seething mess that was his wolf. He glued himself to the chair with his claws as the rest of the pack surged into movement, bombarding Lydia with questions, swarming to Scott with a thousand questions that only set off a new bout of fear from the alpha.
Liam lurched to the side, claws dragging through the fabric in his haste to leap over the back of the couch. His feet didn't even touch the floor before he was all but flying toward the door. His wolf was screaming, RUN, and he was all too happy to acquiesce. The door swung open and clattered behind him, barely registering above the voices chasing him down the driveway. Everything melted together into the incessant chatter of the suburbs as he raced down the street.
Why was everything always so loud?!
Another growl rocketed through him. His legs pumped faster, reaching farther across the ground, eating it up with ever more fervor. He had to get out, get away. There was too much noise, too many smells, too much everything.
Lights bore down on him, blinding him, pulling a hissing screech as he jerked his arms up, shielding his eyes. The crescendo of a fast-approaching, blaring horn shot him into motion. Rough asphalt bit at his skin as he careened into it. Dirt and debris scratched at his bare arms, tearing chunks from them with every ricochet on his way to the ground. A sharp keening whine fled his lips, wracking his whole body, shooting a new zing of pain down his arm.
Before his lungs could even ask for air, he lurched back to his feet, cradling his bleeding elbow. The howling in his head grew sharper at the clanging car door and growing shouting. Liam's mouth moved, but only a piercing whine and drops of blood from his cut lip fell out. He turned quickly, the blood swinging from his lips, and ran, his wolf spurring him on with its sharp cries.
The houses blurred past him as he zigged and zagged through the neighborhood, avoiding the rumble of engines and any voices the wind carried on it. He needed to be alone.
Soon the unforgiving pavement and urbanized air gave way to gravel crunching underfoot and a whiff of the woods. The first non-panting breath struggled through his chest, fighting with the panicked frenzy of his wolf. Nothing appeased it. Not even the soft ground of the Preserve gave way beneath Liam's pounding strides.
A howl surged through his lips, shaking every bone in his body as he dropped to all fours, eyes scrunching shut. Every inch of him was on fire. His wolf howled louder, leaping forward, pushing through the boundaries of his body. It always hurt a little when his wolf physically crawled through him, but this was beyond the normal stretching and crawling. Cracks and snaps ricocheted through the trees, thoroughly drowned by his roaring screams that pitched higher into a full howl.
He hung his jaw, breaths slipping in and out unhindered and fast as the pain receded. It took him a moment to realize the shapes of his teeth under his tongue felt different. Before he fully could take stock of himself, his wolf urged him up, the itch to keep running, still thrumming beneath his skin. With a groan, he pushed up from the ground but staggered, barely catching himself. He glanced down, more than shocked to see stark white paws where his hands should have been.
That's new, he thought, looking over his shoulder at his collapsed hind end.
With a little effort, he got his legs beneath himself and hoisted himself to his feet. The shreds of his clothes slid off him, landing in a tattered puddle. He nosed at the remnants of the black hoodie. A piercing whine slipped from him as Theo's scent mixed with the coppery twang of blood hit him.
"You don't have to stop."
Liam whirled around, snapping at the air around him. A new round of howling started in his head, loud enough to make him screw his eyes shut. He hated the snippets of Theo's broken and bloodied face that made their way through the whited-out, rage-haze most of all. His wolf surged forward, sending him running full-boar through the dense trees. His stride was long, stabbing the ground harder and faster the deeper into the Preserve he went.
The howling in his head, loud as ever, gave no sign of waning.
—
The night's crisp flicks against Liam's sweat-soaked skin were welcome as he walked. Before all the crazy came into his life, nighttime had always been his favorite part of the day. The stillness and peace of mind in being one of the few souls awake settled him. No one bothered him at night; it was safe. Yet another opinion he and Theo had learned they shared.
A half-chuckle puffed through his chest at the memory. One of the first nights they had hung out, just the two of them after Monroe. At the time, he hadn't understood how the chimera could stomach being out and about in the Preserve at night so soon after, but after full shifting, he finally did. The level of peace it had brought his wolf was worth the lost clothes. Theo's random stashes of clothes throughout town also now made more sense, though he'd never tell the chimera that he used one.
A street lamp above flickered and let a sizzling pop, showering the ground and Liam with glass chips. He stopped dead, not even shielding himself. A not-so-quiet snarl built in his throat as he spun in tight circles, his glowing eyes darting every which way, scanning the dim area. Nothing moved. He only heard the nighttime bugs and lazy rolling of a car a street or two away.
His snarl dropped to a warning rumble as he slowed, scenting the air carefully. He stayed put, feet rooted as if on a turn table, turning at the speed of a dying battery.
"Fool me once; shame on you. Fool me twice; shame on me," he muttered through his fangs.
Seconds ticked into minutes, and still, nothing happened. He shook his head, snorting sharply at himself. Paranoia was not a good look for him. Stiles barely pulled it off, and he was right nine times out of ten. With another deep breath, he brought his pulse back down, focusing again on the quiet.
Sooner than he liked, he was at Scott's backdoor, knocking as lightly as he could with his shaking hand. With a frustrated huff, he shoved his hand deep in his pocket, burying it and the tremble before his alpha could see it. This visit was about apologizing for his lack of control; starting it out by throwing it straight in Scott's face wouldn't do him any good. Control was more challenging than ever for him, but he wouldn't let himself fall to pieces. He was stronger than that, anchored or not.
Scott's calm heartbeat got louder as he approached the door. Liam stepped back, fingers fidgeting with a forgotten lint ball as he stared at the ground, waiting for the door to swing open. As light spread from the kitchen, Liam tucked his chin to his chest, a sharp yet barely audible whine seeping from him.
"Come on in," Scott said, a lilt of lightness in his tone.
Liam nodded, the nugget of guilt shrinking yet tightening around his stomach as he entered. The alpha shut the door behind him, turned to the living room, and walked away without a word. Though his pace was easy and nothing spiked in his chemo-signals, Liam couldn't fully iron out the wrinkle in his gut. He might look angry or smell like it. Still, the alpha had been much better at learning to mask than him, and Theo always said he needed to practice parsing layered signals apart.
Liam was slow to follow, his feet barely listening to his urging without the goading of his now-silent wolf. He hadn't struggled this much since Scott first turned him, and even then, he had been pretty good at not damaging furniture. Unless he was having an episode, but that wasn't something he had much control over to begin with.
With one last deep inhale, steadying his heartbeat as best he could, Liam forced his legs to work and made it over to the living room. He lingered beside the couch, eyeing the marks gouged into it. Liam ducked his head, almost whimpering.
"Don't worry about the couch. My mom got used to scratches appearing on furniture a long time ago," Scott chuckled, sitting down and gesturing for him to do the same.
He dropped into the familiar piece of furniture, curling his legs in front of him, hugging them tight to his chest. Silence hung in the room louder than a bomb. Liam had had speech upon speech planned out over his walk back, varying from groveling to plain and straightforward apologies. None of them would even come to mind now that he was here. A sour mustiness permeated the room more and more the longer he sat there, rolling off Scott in equal droves with stale sweat.
"We'll get him back."
Liam's brows quirked upward. That was not what he expected. At all.
"What?" Scott asked, a chuckle punctuating the syllables. "You thought we'd just leave him there for good?"
It had been a thought that crossed his mind the last couple of days. No one was particularly fond of him besides Mason or Corey, and it wasn't like Theo was really part of the pack. But, realistically, putting everyone else in danger for him wasn't in the cards, no matter how much he needed Theo.
Scott shook his head, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "I'm pretty sure the whole pack would get him out just to stop that," he gestured at Liam, "whole scent dump from happening."
Liam groaned, shrinking back into the couch, pulling one leg tighter to his chest. Sometimes he really hated being a wolf and being surrounded by them. Nothing was ever private anymore unless you had a knack for Theo's concealing techniques. With a wordless groaning grumble, he pushed his thoughts aside, bringing his eyes up to meet Scott's.
"So where does that leave us?"
"Same place as always," the alpha shrugged. "Kicking ass and saving the world."
"I don't think saving Theo really constitutes 'the world' for most people," Liam mumbled, shrinking back into the couch.
"Maybe not, but what they're doing has consequences for packs worldwide. So we have to stop her here."
Liam forced a smile, or as close to one as he could manage. This was better than he had hoped. They were going to try. His wolf took a breath, relaxing even further into the lull it settled into post-shift. With the whole pack behind them, Theo actually had a snowball's chance in hell at surviving this, and even that little chance made his breathing that much easier.
Isaac's laugh carried through the house, the door shutting behind him with a soft thump, "Y'know, your mom really should stop hiding her spare key in the same place if she doesn't want people breaking in."
He rounded the corner with a wide grin and a plastic bag swinging after him as he unfurled his scarf. Liam almost chuckled at the sudden drop of his smile to a deer in headlights as the older wolf froze mid-step.
Liam laughed a little at the spluttering expression on Scott's face as he tried to glare at Isaac. It wasn't often nowadays that something would catch the alpha off-guard, but Isaac was often at the epicenter of whatever it was.
"What?" he said, wide-eyed, brandishing the take-out bags. "I brought Mexican."
