Blood Rights [Wicked River 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Gabrielle Evans

chicken.”
    “It’ll be faster to grill it,” Brock argued. “I’m hungry and I want to eat sometime this century.”
    “The recipe says to bake it.”
    “Who cares? Chicken is chicken.”
    “Don’t be an animal.”
    “Fine. I’ll grill the asparagus.” Brock grabbed it off the counter, only to have it lifted out of his hands by Moira.
    “What is your obsession with grilling?”
    “I don’t know. I’m a man. That’s what we do. We grill shit.”
    “Oh, yes,” Moira scoffed. “That makes so much sense.”
    Back and forth they bickered until Koba thought his head was going to explode. It wasn’t in his nature to lose his temper or his patience, but he was sick of it. How much was he expected to endure? “Shut up!” he roared. “For Christ sakes, just shut the fuck up!”
    “What the hell crawled up your ass and died?” Brock demanded.
    “Seriously uncalled for,” Moira agreed.
    Well, at least they had finally found some common ground. Figuring that meant his work was done, Koba abandoned his water bottle, pushed back from the table, and stalked out of the room. He wasn’t running away, and he wasn’t doing his best impression of a petulant child. He just wanted five minutes of quiet.
    Entering the bedroom he shared with Brock, he fell face-first onto the mattress with a grunt. The team had been patrolling night and day with the help of a few male members of the pack. Everything had been quiet, and there were no signs of the Walkers. Koba didn’t know what it meant, other than they’d be staying there indefinitely.
    That wasn’t fair. He didn’t have anything against the town or the pack. Being locked away like a dirty secret and having to listen to the constant fighting was just making him grouchy. Already he was feeling guilty about his outburst. Tensions were high, and everyone was feeling the strain. He had no right to take it out on his mates.
    That was another thing that bothered him. Every time he got closer to Moira, he could feel…something. It wasn’t a clear connection, and if he wasn’t looking for it, he’d probably dismiss it as mere physical attraction. It was the only way he knew to describe it, but it was more than lust or infatuation. What the hell did that mean?
    A soft knock sounded at the door, but Koba ignored it. Brock would come in anyway or he’d leave. With the mood he was in, Koba didn’t really care either way.
    “Koba?”
    To his shock, it was Moira who called his name. “What?” His voice came out muffled against the mattress, but it was just too much effort to roll over.
    The bed dipped beside him, and a shaky hand settled on his back, right between his shoulder blades. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
    Sighing in defeat because he couldn’t possible remain angry at her, Koba rolled to his side and tapped the end of her nose. “I know. I’m sorry, too. I guess I’m just not good company today.”
    “I think you’re entitled. I’d be going nuts by now if I had to stay cooped up in this house with me and Brock.”
    “You’re so beautiful when you smile.” She didn’t do it near enough in his opinion, but then again, there hadn’t been much occasion for it.
    Her hair fell around her face as she ducked her head and blushed. The slight tint to her cheeks only made her more alluring. Brushing back a lock of hair, he skimmed his fingers down her jawline and urged her face up with gentle pressure under her chin. “Don’t hide.”
    “Can you feel it?”
    His skin tingled where they touched, so he knew exactly what she meant. It wasn’t a continuous stream of energy, though, more like low-wave pulses. “It feels broken.”
    “How do we fix it?”
    Hope blossomed in Koba’s heart. Moira had mentioned several times that Koba belonged with Brock, but it was the first time she’d admitted that there might be something between the two of them. “I want to try something.”
    Though she looked confused, she nodded once.