Page 49 of What the Hex

After that, he was going to pitilessly murder his mate.

Yeah, fine, he got it. After nearly a week of believing he didn’t even have a family, Storm now remembered them and wanted to see them. Awesome. Fantastic. A twenty-four-hour notice might have been nice.

And what the hell was wrong with his family? Who just woke up and decided to travel across state lines without any planning or preparation?

Hey, honey, what do you want to do today?

Let’s drive four hours to another state. Sound good?

Hell yeah. I’ll pack snacks.

Sweet baby angels, he was going to have a proper mental breakdown.

While he knew Storm’s real name was Steven, he had become accustomed to calling him Storm. Would his parents take offense to that? Did he call them Mr. and Mrs. Blackburn? Fuck, he didn't even know their names. And what about the twins?

Well, according to his mate, the girls thought he was cute. So, at least that was something.

“Darlin’, you need to breathe.”

“I’m breathing!” Hell, he was practically hyperventilating. How much more breathing did the guy want from him? “When are they going to be here?”

“Probably half an hour or so.”

“Oh, god.” The cramping in his stomach intensified, and his pulse rocketed as his heart made a valiant attempt to explode out of his chest.

“Please calm down.” Uncaring that they stood in the middle of the hotel lobby, Storm took his hand and pulled him into his arms, surrounding him with warmth and strength. “My family is going to adore you, and if they don’t, I’ll eat them.”

Despite the tsunami of nerves crashing inside him, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I will never forget the look on my mom’s face.”

“I do feel bad about that.”

King rolled his eyes. “No, you don’t, but it’s okay. She deserved it.”

The shifter didn’t agree with him outright, but his lack of comment spoke volumes.

He had spent his entire life trying to live up to his mother’s unreasonable expectations. Of course, he still loved her, but the previous evening had been the wake-up call he’d needed.

Just because he didn’t want the life his mother pushed on him didn’t make him flawed or broken. Beating himself up over ever perceived infraction didn’t serve any purpose, other than to make him miserable. He loved his job, his apartment, and everything about his life. Hell, he was even happy with the way he looked, and frankly, he fucking hated green tea.

While Storm’s eruption had been the catalyst, his siblings had played a big role in helping him see the truth. They’d stood by him, and they had taken his side against their mother. That wasn’t something easily brushed aside.

After he’d awoken from his mini coma, he’d spent a lot of time during the night replaying old conversations from a new perspective. Instead of scorn and disdain, he tried to view them through a less resentful lense. One that came from a place of love and gentle teasing.

There had also been a constant flow of messages coming into the group chat since early that morning, and he had to give his brother and sisters credit. They were trying, and the least he could do was to meet them halfway. It wouldn’t happen all at once, but he had hope that they could repair the broken parts of their relationship.

As for his parents, well, that depended on them. He didn’t want to cut them out of his life completely, but he was done being either an afterthought or a punching bag. Besides, he had a feeling Storm wouldn’t be welcomed at family dinners again, which was a deal breaker as far as he was concerned.

“I found her!” Arlo came rushing down the grand staircase, dragging Nita behind him.

“Damn it, Arlo! Let go of me. What is wrong with you? Aren’t you supposed to be babysitting the wolf boy?”

Clearing the last step, he rushed over to join their group, where they stood out of sight from the windows that looked out onto the front portico. “He’s in a meeting. Just trust me.”

“I definitely don’t.”

“That’s fair.” Even as he spoke, he grabbed Nita by the elbow and shoved her toward Owen. “Get with the fixing.”

King loved his best friend, and he would do anything for him, but the guy had the subtlety of a nail gun to the face. “Nita, I apologize for Arlo’s…” He trailed off, trying to think how to word what he wanted to say, then gave up and shrugged. “I’m sorry for Arlo.”