Her Brother, Her Mate

Mitch POV

“Are you sure she will like this?” I asked, examining the new ink around our arms. This was all Mark’s idea. After he told me about Hadley’s reservation about us marking her because she couldn’t mark us in return, I was all for it, but this hardly seemed like enough to show her ownership over us.

I wanted to get her name tattooed on my f*****g forehead right under my hairline, or at least on my neck, so that everyone could see it. Mark isn’t as bold as I am with his tattoos and talked me into getting a cuff around my upper arm instead.

I might still go back later and get her name somewhere that will always be visible. I like the cuff, but shirts with longer sleeves will cover it from view.

The tattoo is stems of lavender wrapping around our biceps, the stems in the center spelling out ‘Hadley’ with a heart at the end. Two bees are resting on the flowers on either side of her name and the only color added was a vibrant purple for the flower petals, the same purple as Hadley’s eyes. It’s a little girly, but definitely reminds me of my mate. Even if it didn’t have her name in the middle of it, the lavender and honey bees definitely make me think of Hadley.

“She will f*****g love it, bro. It’s better than a mark. It has her name, flowers….why wouldn’t she like it?”

“You and your f*****g flowers,” I smirked, remembering the story Hadley told me about the first flowers Mark sent to her at work. She still had the card that was on them. She carries it around in her purse and pulls it out whenever Mark starts getting a little too out of hand. The note was cringy as f**k. He said he got the suggestion from our brother. He should have known better. Matt’s head has been shoved so far up Lilly’s a*s for so long that he has no idea how to win over a girl. He’s never had to.

I guess we really never did either. Girls were easy before Hadley. Like putty in our hands to manipulate however we wanted. Now, we’re the ones who are putty in her beautiful little hands. She has us so wrapped around her fingers, it’s not even funny. She sighs and both of us start scrambling around, desperate to find the source of whatever is stressing her and fix it. She moves an inch, and we follow, anticipating what she was going to do next.

After the tattoos, we decided to hop over to the frozen yogurt place to pick something up for Hadley before heading back to the resort. We started arguing about what she would like best and ended up with 4 different options for her to try. When I was paying, both of us froze and sucked in a breath at the same time, feeling panic from Hadley through the bond.

It was intense; true fear and anxiety like she was in some sort of trouble. I grabbed the bag with our stuff off the counter, threw a hundred dollar bill at the lady behind the register, and we both ran out to the car, looking like lunatics as we peeled out of the parking lot.

It took us about 10 long minutes to race to the resort. A trip that should have taken us 25 to 30 minutes with the traffic getting across the bridge. I skidded to a stop outside the valet stand. George, the usual guy, wasn’t there but we couldn’t wait. I tossed the keys on his little podium desk, then we ran inside.

People were standing around and gossiping, pointing to the elevators, and I heard people saying something about a beautiful dark-haired woman being beaten and having a black eye and bruises all over her.

Panic hit me. They couldn’t be talking about our mate, could they? We would feel it if she was hurt. Mark goes to the desk and asks the girl, the one Jenny is friends with, what happened.

“I don’t know exactly. Some couple came in asking about Hadley, and then when she came out of the office, the guy saw her and they started to fight. He went to hit her, but your dad stopped him and made him leave. The woman with him stayed too. She was beaten up pretty badly. Mr. Meyers took the woman and Hadley upstairs.”

“Where’s mom?” I asked.

“Dealing with an accident that occurred in the parking garage.”

“She wasn’t involved?”

“No, one of the drivers was rounding the corner and hit a car that was going the wrong way.”

“Thanks,” I said before we headed for the elevators.

“Who do you think the guy was?” Mark asked me as we impatiently waited for the elevator to stop on the seventh floor.

“I don’t know but if he hurt Hadley he’s dead.” I can already feel my magic bubbling to the surface, whispering to me, telling me how I can find and destroy the person who caused my mate to feel any kind of negative emotion.

We don’t bother knocking. Mark uses his keycard and we burst into the suite, on a mission to find our mate.

She’s sitting on the couch, tears glistening on her beautiful face, both of us stumbling over one another trying to get to her, falling at her feet.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Did he touch you?”

“What happened?”

Mark and I are touching her body all over, looking for any sort of damage. I cradle her face in my hands, my thumbs ridding her of her tears as Mark rests his forehead on her knees, relieved she appears to be in one piece.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

“I’m fine, both of you,” Hadley’s voice sounded airy, humor laced in her breath.

“What happened?” I asked her. That’s when I notice another woman, looking much like Hadley, only older and without the purple irises, sitting on the other couch. My father was sitting on the coffee table in front of her, doctoring her wounds on her bruised arms. Her face is blotchy, like she had been crying, and her eye is swollen shut, black and blue. She looks like she’s been through a lot.

“My father came,” Hadley said in a cold voice. “He found me and wanted to make me leave with him, but your dad stopped him and kicked him out.”

Mark and I both started growling, anger rippling between us. No f*****g way was someone taking our mate from us. No way in hell.

Hadley POV

I combed my fingers through Mark’s hair, and rubbed circles on the side of Mitchel’s neck, trying to get them to calm down. Their growling startled Mama, and I didn’t want her to be scared of my mates. They look intimidating enough when they’re not mad.

“Guys, this is my mama, the woman that raised me,” I tell them, hoping they will take the hint and relax a little. I understand their anger, because I feel it too, but it’s scaring her and she’s already frightened enough.

Both of them turned their faces to look towards my mom. Sympathy from them is flowing to me through our mate bond. Mom looks a mess, even with Micah treating her wounds. He tried to use his magic to cure them quickly, but he was fizzling out. He was waiting for Vivian to come so he could get more through her.

Micah dropped the gauze he was using to apply ointment on my mom’s bruises into a glass dish filled with disinfectant and addressed his sons. “This is Safarah. She’s going to be staying with us from now on, or at least until we get all this s**t sorted out. I have a feeling Zachary showing up today was just the start of things. You will both need to stay at the resort for the time being. Stay with Hadley at all times.

“I know you don’t like them disturbing your work, sweetheart, but you need to tolerate it for now. You should never be without at least one of them with you.” Micah stood, wiping his hands down the front of his pants. “I diminished my reserves while training you two the past several mornings. Can you help heal her? I don’t have enough in me right now and your mother is busy.”

“Yeah, of course,” Mitchel stands, pecking me gently on the lips as he walks over to my mom, sitting on the coffee table in front of her. Mark lifted me up and took the spot I was sitting on the couch, setting me in his lap and burying his nose against my nape.

“Hi Safarah. I’m Mitchel, your daughter’s favorite mate. It’s nice to meet you,” Mitchel smirks at her, Mark growling softly, hearing him call himself my favorite mate while I just roll my eyes. They’re both my favorite. Both very different and special to me in their own ways.

Mama smiles gently, “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Mitchel’s hands glow their icy blue as he reaches out and touches her face, the swelling around her eye slowly recedes and the blue-black tint fades back to its normal color. His hands move down to her neck, his eyes glowing like his hands, his mouth moving, but I can’t hear the words he is muttering as he works to rid my mom of the evidence of her hardship.

When he is done, she smiles and mutters a soft ‘thank you’, then looks at me and chuckles, “Your favorite mate?”

“They’re both my favorite. He’s a bit cheeky. Take everything he says with a grain of salt.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she smiled at him, patting his knee. “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem, ma’am.” He k****s her cheek, surprising her, then comes back to sit beside me and his brother.

“So, how did your father find you here?” Mark asked. We all look to my mom for answers.