Wrong love

Chapter Twenty-Five: Time-Out for Werewolves

Jace Ryder had lived for one thousand years.

One thousand.

He had survived wars.

Kingdoms.

Empires.

Hunters.

Monsters.

And somehow...

none of those things prepared him for walking into his house and finding his brothers trying to murder each other with furniture.

The front door opened.

A chair flew across the living room.

CRASH.

Jace stopped.

Slowly closed the door.

Opened it again.

The same scene greeted him.

"Nope."

Another lamp exploded against a wall.

"Yep."

Definitely real.

Cole Ryder, all one thousand and fifty years of him, was currently trying to tackle Max across the room.

Max looked delighted.

Which was never a good sign.

"GET BACK HERE!"

Cole lunged.

Max sidestepped effortlessly.

Cole crashed into the couch.

The couch lost.

"You psychopath!"

Max laughed.

"I barely touched you."

"You threw me through a bookshelf!"

"It was an old bookshelf."

"IT WAS A FAMILY HEIRLOOM!"

"Now it's modern art."

Cole looked ready to commit several crimes.

Jace considered leaving.

Again.

Unfortunately—

"JACE!"

Cole pointed dramatically.

"Tell your brother he's insane!"

Jace sighed.

"Which one?"

"The evil one!"

"That narrows it down to both of you."

Cole looked offended.

Max looked proud.

Neither reaction surprised him.

Another pillow flew.

Max caught it.

Then casually launched it back.

It hit Cole directly in the face.

WHUMP.

The room went silent.

Cole lowered the pillow.

Slowly.

Dangerously.

"Oh."

Max grinned.

"Oh?"

"Now it's personal."

Before another war could begin—

Victoria Ryder walked into the room.

Silence.

Immediate silence.

Even Max stopped smiling.

Which honestly terrified Jace more than the fight.

Victoria stood there.

Arms folded.

Perfectly calm.

The kind of calm that only came from raising immortal sons for over a thousand years.

Nearby, Nathan Ryder sat comfortably reading a newspaper.

Not helping.

Not reacting.

Simply existing.

Like furniture was not currently being used as weapons.

Victoria looked around the destroyed living room.

A broken lamp.

A shattered chair.

Half a couch.

A very confused houseplant.

Then she looked at her sons.

"What happened?"

Cole pointed.

"Him."

Max pointed.

"Him."

Victoria nodded.

"As expected."

Nathan turned a page.

"Very expected."

Neither brother appreciated that.

Victoria pointed toward opposite sides of the room.

"You."

Cole froze.

"No."

"You."

She pointed at Max.

"And you."

Max blinked.

"I'm one thousand and twenty-three years old."

"I know."

"I'm an adult."

"Barely."

Nathan coughed suspiciously into his newspaper.

Victoria didn't even look at him.

"Don't encourage them."

Nathan lowered the paper.

"I wasn't."

"You smiled."

Nathan immediately returned to reading.

Cole looked horrified.

"Mom."

"Yes?"

"Are you seriously putting us in timeout?"

Victoria stared at him.

Then looked at the broken furniture.

Then looked back.

"What would you call this?"

Cole opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

"Exactly."

Max surprisingly obeyed.

Walking toward his assigned corner.

Completely unbothered.

Cole followed.

Muttering under his breath.

"This is humiliating."

"You threw a chair."

"He deserved it."

"Ten more minutes."

Cole gasped dramatically.

"THIS HOUSE IS A DICTATORSHIP."

Nathan nodded.

"Always has been."

Victoria pointed.

"Fifteen."

Cole immediately shut up.

---

Later...

Jace dragged a grumpy Cole upstairs.

The older wolf looked deeply offended by existence.

Which was impressive considering he'd lived through over a millennium of it.

The moment they entered Cole's room, he collapsed onto his bed.

"Your brother is insane."

Jace sat nearby.

"What did he do?"

Cole sat upright.

"What DIDN'T he do?"

"Specifics."

Cole pointed dramatically.

"He came home."

Jace blinked.

"That's normal."

"No."

Cole looked genuinely disturbed.

"That's the problem."

Jace frowned.

"Okay..."

Cole lowered his voice.

"He smiled."

Silence.

Jace stared.

"...What?"

"He smiled."

Jace immediately looked concerned.

"At who?"

"Me."

The concern doubled.

"Oh."

"RIGHT?"

"That's not normal."

"THANK YOU."

Jace leaned back.

Something about that bothered him.

A lot.

Max wasn't the smiling type.

Not unless something terrible was about to happen.

Or he was plotting something.

Or both.

Usually both.

"What happened after that?"

Cole looked personally offended.

"He asked me how my day was."

Jace froze.

"No."

"YES."

"That's terrifying."

"Exactly!"

For a moment neither spoke.

Then Jace asked—

"So you punched him?"

Cole looked confused.

"Obviously."

Jace nodded.

"Reasonable."

"Thank you."

Silence followed.

But eventually Cole's smile faded.

The humor disappearing.

For the first time all evening...

he looked serious.

Something Jace didn't like.

"Something's wrong with him."

Jace thought about the strange creature Orion had encountered.

The warnings.

The parking lot.

Seraphina.

Everything.

His stomach tightened.

Because for once...

he agreed.

Downstairs, Max sat alone in timeout.

Not complaining.

Not moving.

Just smiling faintly to himself.

And somehow...

that was far scarier than any fight.

Because deep down, every member of the Ryder family could feel it.

Something was coming.

And whatever it was...

it was changing Max first.