Enticed by J.A. Belfield

From the
opposite side of the table, Kyle waved his coffee mug toward me.
“To Ethan. And another year done and dusted.” Trouble spilled from
his hazel eyes, beneath the auburn eyebrows he wiggled. “Soon
you’ll be as old as the old men.”
    “He already
is,” Dad muttered from behind his laptop screen, where he scoured
the classifieds for land sales. “As old as me when I was that
age.”
    Kyle grinned.
“See?” He’d bombed over with Brook to join us for breakfast, to
‘celebrate my big day’. Like it was something spectacular to behold
that the clock had ticked past midnight of the day before to
announce me a year older, when, in reality, I was less than twenty
four hours older than when I’d been thirty five.
    Even Brook
smiled, her exotic eyes warming to a bright gold, offset by the
dark oak strands of hair trailing low over her shoulders. “Any
plans?” she asked in that reserved way of hers, and Dad lifted his
gaze.
    Over by the
cooker, Mum sent us a sideways glance, her chestnut bob bouncing a
little. A few feet along from her, Sean sat on the countertop,
waiting for the bacon to fry, his mess of dark hair sticking up
like it’d been rampaging all night. Not all that different to how
I’d probably looked myself since getting up—in every way possible,
seeing as both he and I had grabbed most of Dad’s appearance genes
from the nugget he’d contributed toward our creation.
    “No plans as
yet,” I said in answer—which was the truth—and Brook’s smile
widened, like she knew something I didn’t.
    In the past,
we’d celebrated birthdays pretty much as we celebrated the freedom
of every weekend—by fooling around outside enough to burn off
excess energy, eating stupid amounts of food even for us, and
falling asleep in a heap until someone decided they were aching too
much to stay put. Birthdays had also always been something shared
with the pack alone. Over the last couple of years, though, the
pack had grown—both in size and acceptance criteria—and it seemed
weird having what would’ve once been considered ‘outsiders’ wanting
to be a part of that.
    I eyed Brook
from across the wood of the oak tabletop. First time I’d ever had a
cat come give me birthday greetings.
    My mind shifted
to Gabe. First time I’d had a surrogate teenage son to call me at
first light and wake me with a duet of happy birthday from him and
his young mate, too.
    First time,
really, I’d had a female of my own to spend time with for the
event, even.
    Not that
Shelley and I’d discussed anything about my birthday. Not that we’d
made plans. In fact … had I even mentioned it to her? I couldn’t
remember. Was just another day, after all.
    “Okay, food’s
up,” Mum said, swinging the frying pan across to a plate set on the
counter, and slapping at Sean’s hand with the spatula when he snuck
it out for some. “Birthday boy gets first rasher.”
    Rolling his
eyes, Sean hopped down to his feet. I knew the instant Jem stepped
into the room behind me by the way his gaze sharp-focused to my
right, followed by a blast of warmth softening his expression.
    Lia, their
daughter, had taken to sleeping in a little later, and Jem took
full advantage of that. Which made her often the last one up at
weekends—sometimes during the week, too. Not that I blamed her
after the few weeks of teething Lia went through. Not a damn one of
us had enough sleep with all the wailing. Curse of enhanced
hearing, I guessed.
    “Hey.” Jem’s
warm breath hit my shoulder, and her arm folded over my chest from
behind, her familiar musk drifting toward my nostrils. “Happy
birthday, tough guy.”
    Something
tapped against my chin, and I peered down at a long-necked bottle
of golden liquid. “Talisker Storm?” I asked, reading the label, as
Sean worked a puffy-faced Lia from Jem’s clutches.
    “You haven’t
tried this one before.” Straightening, she flicked her blonde wisps
over her shoulder, detangling her fingers when they got