How It Has to Be

  HOW IT HAS TO BE

  (OATH OF BANE, BOOK 2)

  By T. S. JOYCE

  How It Has to Be

  Copyright © 2021 by T. S. Joyce

  Copyright © 2021, T. S. Joyce

  First electronic publication: March 2021

  T. S. Joyce

  www.tsjoyce.com

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Editor: Alyxandra Miller

  Other Books in this Series

  How It’s Supposed to Be (Book 1)

  How It’s Meant to Be (Book 3)

  Contents

  Copyright

  Other Books in this Series

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Up Next in this Series

  Newsletter Sign-Up

  More Series from this Author

  For More from this Author

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Here was the thing about Moore Bane…

  Out of the three Bane brothers, he was the one who would never, ever quit a hunt.

  Bricken Bane declined Moore’s fourth call and grunted in pain as he sat down at the booth nearest the window. Hope Diner was too busy for him today. Okay, so there were only two other men sitting up at the counter talking about the weather or whatever it was that humans enjoyed conversing over, but two humans were two too many.

  He hated being in town.

  Fuck, his shoulder hurt.

  Did you kill him? Moore texted him.

  Bricken’s hand shook as he ran it down his beard. He didn’t know what to do about this pain. He’d gotten in a bear fight with his brother Aux a few weeks ago, and he wasn’t healing like he was supposed to.

  Had he killed his brother? No. Aux had broken the rules and found himself a mate, and now it was on Bricken’s damaged shoulders to punish him by death. Only when he’d tried, Aux had fought with a fury Bricken hadn’t recognized.

  Out the window, he could see the ones he hunted. Aux and his mate—some human named Gwen—trotted out of the general store, holding plastic bags in both hands.

  His brother was smiling, and that…that was one of the reasons Aux was still alive right now.

  In his thirty-five years, Bricken had never seen Aux smile. He wasn’t even covering his face, like he didn’t care if the humans in town saw his too-sharp teeth or razor-edged features. Aux wasn’t paying attention to anything but the woman. His silver eyes drifted to her again and again as she chattered away, and they loaded the plastic bags into the back seat of Aux’s tow truck.

  Pretty girl with long brunette hair and big green eyes. She had a scar across her forehead that looked angry and red. Her smile was annoying. Humans smiled all the damn time. She wouldn’t be smiling if she knew what she’d done to Aux.

  She’d killed him and didn’t even realize it yet.

  Brick’s phone screen glowed with a new text from Moore. Don’t make me come off this mountain and end you both. If you haven’t done your job yet, I want it done by the end of the week. You have until Friday or I will be breaking down your door.

  Shit. Moore didn’t bluff, and he sure as hell didn’t need to come down from his mountain. The whole town would pay for that little move. Moore was better left in the wild to live out his days having no contact with human civilization.

  If he saw Aux right now, dragging Gwen’s hand to his lips, touching that human so casually, he would demolish this whole damn town and the devil himself couldn’t stop the destruction.

  Bricken knew what he had to do…

  But…

  Aux’s smile. What did it feel like on a man’s insides to want to make that facial expression?

  He tried, testing the stretch of his lips, but one look at his reflection in the window and he let his lips fall back over his sharp canines. He wasn’t smiling. He was snarling, and for all that effort he didn’t feel any different on his insides.

  Aux opened Gwen’s door for her, and when he shut it, he cast a quick glance up to the sky. Bricken followed his gaze to the crows that circled high above them. They were Aux’s problem now. Idiot had put a target right on his back.

  When Bricken dragged his attention back to Aux, his brother was staring right at him.

  A growl rattled his chest as Aux stood there in the street, silver gaze locked on his. He shoved his hands into his pockets and strode for the diner.

  Pretty ballsy move. Bricken cracked his knuckles and smoothed his face out under the hood of his jacket. Don’t show pain, his bear reminded him.

  He straightened his spine and canted his head at Aux as his brother walked into the diner. He stopped near Bricken’s table. “You’ve been hunting me for a while.”

  “Maybe I like dragging it out.” His voice came out gritty from disuse, and he almost didn’t recognize it.

  Aux lifted his chin slightly, his nostrils flaring as he scented the air. “You’re hurt.”

  With a growl, Bricken stood to his full height. “I don’t feel hurt.”

  “Mmm.” Aux nodded toward his tow truck. “She’s mine. I’m different now. Stronger. Faster. Did you know that happens when you find the one? Our parents never told us that part. The mates give us more power. You come after us again, I’ll kill you.” Truth infused every word. “You don’t get a second chance, Brick.”

  Brick. It had been so long since he’d heard his name spoken out loud. He’s almost forgotten that people called him Brick, for short. “We made a pact.”

  “I don’t give a shit about the pact,” Aux told him. “I give a lot of shits about that woman out there though.”

  “You signed an oath in blood—”

  “I haven’t bred her, and I won’t Turn her. The line still ends with me. And you. And Moore.” Aux turned and walked away, but right as he got to the door, Brick lifted his voice. “Why?” he asked.

  Aux turned and frowned, his silver eyes churning with confusion. “Why what?”

  “Why didn’t you kill me out there on your mountain?” Part of him was angry that he’d lost that fight to Aux, and part of him was angry that Aux had the chance to end his misery and chose not to. “Mercy never did anything good for monsters like us.” Softly, he asked again, “Why didn’t you kill me?”

  “Because you’re my brother.”

  And with that Aux walked out the door, jogged through the melting snow across the street, and drove away.

  Because you’re my brother.

  What did that even mean? Brother was just a word that linked three people born to the same parents. It was just a word. Just a word.

  What Aux had said made no sense at all. Why would that wor
d stop him from finishing that fight?

  Brick sat heavily on the red booth cushion, cracked his knuckles, and stared out the window at the crows that were flying away.

  His shoulder was pounding in rhythm with his heartbeat. Or what was left of his shoulder.

  The bell above the door dinged as a woman hurried in, scooting her small son in front of her.

  “Seriously?” the woman behind the counter said. There was fire in her eyes as she started refreshing the coffee of the two men in front of her. “You’re an hour late.” She jammed her chin toward Brick. “That man has been sitting there for ten minutes with no one waiting on him.”

  “I’m so sorry,” the woman said, bustling her son toward a table in the back corner. As she passed Brick, she lowered her voice and told him, “Truly, I’m so sorry.”

  Well, he wasn’t here for the shitty coffee they served. He was here to plot ways to murder his brother. “You’re fine.”

  He slid a glare at the woman behind the counter still griping at the disheveled blonde who was pulling a plastic bag of crayons out of her giant purse for the boy.

  “It’s not bring-your-kid-to-work day, Trinity. I’ve told you before, he can’t take up tables here. It takes away from the ambiance of my diner!”

  “Just be good, okay, Tucker?” Trinity whispered to the little blond boy. He looked like his momma. Same green eyes and hair color. Cute kid.

  He will taste good, the bear enlightened him. Perfect size for a snack.

  Brick swallowed a growl and tried to ignore the visual his lovely animal was running through his mind of the kid screaming and running through the woods away from him. He belonged in chains.

  Trinity bustled back to the counter, fingers fumbling as she tied a white apron around her thin waist. Her hair was falling out of its ponytail and trailing all around her face. No boobs and no butt, but her face was pretty. For a human. Which meant she wasn’t pretty at all. Ugly things, he reminded himself. Stop looking at her.

  He focused out the window at the tire tracks Aux had left in the snowy street.

  “Go easy on her, Miranda,” one of the men at the counter said.

  “You stay out of it, Saul!” Miranda aimed her venom back at Trinity when she said, “I keep giving you chances and you just shit on the charity I’ve given you.”

  “I’ve never missed a shift.”

  “No, you’re just late for half of them, and you don’t even bother to call and let me know if you’re coming in or not.”

  “Because you keep leaving the phone off the hook,” Trinity whispered patiently.

  He could hear the click of her settling the landline back into its sling.

  Brick snuck a glance at the woman. She was behind the counter with her back to him, pulling her hair back into a new ponytail. She cast a glance at the boy and whispered to Miranda, “Tucker’s dad was supposed to pick him up three hours ago. He never showed up and he wouldn’t answer his phone. We waited and waited, and then when it was close to my shift, I tried to take him to his babysitter’s house, but she had the week off since he was supposed to be with his dad and she already had plans. I didn’t know what else to do with him. He’s real quiet, Miranda, he won’t make a peep.”

  Brick looked over his shoulder at the boy. The kid wiped his eyes real fast like he was crying, but his face looked stoic. He glanced up at Brick, and the look in his wide green eyes did something awful to his guts. The hollowness inside of him got bigger. The boy gave his attention back to the paper he was drawing on, but as far as Brick could tell, he was just making circles with a red crayon.

  I get it, kid. My dad was shitty, too. Brick forced his eyes back to the window. Why did he care about that little boy’s tears? Weak little human.

  “I have half a mind to fire you right now,” Miranda said to Trinity.

  A growl rattled up Brick’s throat and he shook his head hard, then winced at how the movement made his body feel.

  “Please,” Trinity whispered. “This job is all that’s putting food on the table right now. I’m trying. I swear I’m trying, Miranda. This won’t happen again.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. I knew I shouldn’t have hired you. Knew it from that first interview. I told you no excuses. I need someone dependable—”

  “That’s me. I’m dependable. I’ve been late a few times but I always show up.”

  Damn his shifter hearing. He didn’t want to listen to the desperation in this woman’s voice. Brick stood to leave, but Trinity was already on her way over with a coffee cup and a pot of the steaming stuff.

  “This is made fresh, sir,” she murmured. “You don’t have to tip me. Just stay and eat. I’ll make up for you going hungry.”

  He frowned and eased back onto the seat. Her eyes were the color of moss, but she barely looked at him. She poured him a mug of coffee.

  “I didn’t order coffee,” he gritted out.

  “Oh!” she stopped pouring and her eyes went wide as she locked her gaze on his. “I’m sorry.”

  “For fuck’s sake, stop saying sorry,” he growled. “Coffee is fine.”

  “Creamer?” she asked, staring at him. His silver eyes did that to humans—made them stare.

  “Do I look like a man who takes creamer in my coffee?”

  Her eyes got even wider somehow. God, her whole face was just gonna be fuckin’ eyeballs soon.

  “N-no.” She just stood there, annoying him with her existence.

  “I hate bein’ in town,” he told her.

  “Okay. Um, do you want something to eat?”

  “You got steak and eggs?” he grumbled.

  “Yes sir. How do you want it cooked?”

  “Rare. Just walk the cow by the fire and put it on the plate.” His voice was so gritty, but the lady seemed okay with it. At least she had a semblance of a poker face. Brick tossed another look over his shoulder at the frail boy. “I’ll take a side of pancakes, too.”

  “Syrup?”

  “On the side.”

  “How do you want your eggs?”

  “I don’t fuckin’ care, just surprise me.”

  She shrank back a couple of steps, and there they were—the instincts that said she was around danger.

  He cleared his throat and tried to be more normal. “Please.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Um, you can take your jacket off if you want. There’s a coat hook by the front door if you get too hot.”

  “I’m fine.” God, his voice. He hadn’t used it in so long. “Thank you,” he grumbled, and then looked out the window, dismissing her.

  He didn’t move a muscle until she brought his food out. Trinity set the biggest plate on the table and when he reached out to scoot it closer just as she did, he recoiled from her hand in a rush. “Don’t touch me,” he snarled.

  She flinched away. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to help. The plate was hot.”

  “The plate is fine.” He cleared his throat, and tried to take the hurt out of her big dumb eyes. “You’re doin’ fine.”

  Her delicately arched eyebrows relaxed a little bit and she looked stunned. She stood there holding his plate of pancakes, just staring at him. He hated when people stared at him. “What?”

  “It’s just been a while since I heard that.”

  “Well, you are.” He jerked his head toward her son. “Go give that to your boy.”

  “W-what?”

  “Go give your cub the pancakes. He’s little. He needs to eat more.”

  Trinity looked from him to the plate of pancakes, then back to him. “Are you sure?”

  Brick went to cutting up his steak. “Go away.”

  Another few seconds of hesitation and Trinity murmured, “Thank you so much,” before scurrying off toward Tucker’s table.

  Brick looked over his shoulder and watched her give the plate to the boy, who started pouring syrup all over his pancakes immediately. The tears in his eyes had dried, and his little mouth curved up in a smile.

  Brick di
dn’t know what the boy was smiling for, but he didn’t mind that he’d caused it. His momma smiled too as she squatted down and talked to her son. Another wave of hollowness seeped into his bones. He turned back around and focused on eating.

  The diner started picking up after that and Trinity got busy. She refilled his coffee twice though, without saying a word. Just took care of it before his cup could get cold, then moved on to her other tables.

  He allowed himself to look back at the boy two times. The first time, the kid was demolishing the stack of pancakes, and the second time he was scribbling away on the paper, his little tongue poked out the side of his mouth in concentration.

  Brick paid as soon as Trinity gave him the check, and stood to leave. She could keep the extra twenty he left in there. Maybe feed the kid better. He was way too fragile looking. As he moved to zip his jacket up, the bell above the door rang out and a tall man stooped under the doorframe. He was one of those men who probably had a skin care routine and only wore brand name everything. He wore a scarf, and as he removed it, he looked around the room, and his eyes locked on the kid.

  “Hey, Tucker!” he called out.

  The boy stopped drawing and stared at the man.

  “You’re four hours late,” Trinity told him as she drew up beside him. She held a pot of coffee and from the look on her face, she was mighty tempted to throw it on him. I wish she would and then we can eat him, the bear said inside of him.

  Brick gritted his teeth and zipped up slowly, stalling, then leaned over the booth and grabbed his beanie.

  “The timing didn’t work for me,” Asshole told her coldly.

  “You were the one who chose the time! I almost got fired for being late.”

  The man shrugged up a shoulder and gestured to Tucker. “Let’s go. Now.”

  Tucker was rushing to clean up his crayons, the pancake-smile long gone from his mouth.

  Trinity hurried over to Tucker and helped him put away his things, then hugged him up tight and whispered into his ear, “I love you so much, and I’ll see you in three tiny days. Okay?”