Sealed With a Tris, page 1
Sealed With A Tris
The Félidés Clan
Jae Greyn
Published by Jae Greyn, 2023.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
SEALED WITH A TRIS
First edition. September 21, 2023.
Copyright © 2023 Jae Greyn.
ISBN: 979-8223342090
Written by Jae Greyn.
Table of contents
Dear reader,
Tristan Storme Félidés, Lord Vitae
1 Tristan
2 Sebastian
3 Tris
4 Sebastian
5 Shiloh
6 Tristan
7 Sebastian
8 Tristan
9 Tristan
10 Shiloh
11 Tristan
12 Shiloh
13 Tristan
14 Shiloh
15 Tristan
16 Shiloh
17 Shiloh
18 Tristan
19 Shiloh
20 Kansas
21 Tristan
22 Shiloh
23 Tristan
24 Kansas
25 Shiloh
26 Tristan
Excerpt from The Félidés Clan IV
1 Shiloh
Dear reader,
This is book three in The Félidés Clan series. Please read one, Predator’s Patience, and two first. There is drinking, cursing, and smoking. There is an allusion to past abuse, and a brother trying to work through it. This is fantasy. The characters are not human. There is magic.
Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy.
Jae
Tristan Storme Félidés, Lord Vitae
Dear Me,
This would be the longest summer of my life, and it hadn’t started. You see, I’m the forgotten twin and what is referred to in my world as ‘the spare.’ Oddly enough, I do still hold my title, Lord Vitae, but it isn’t doing me much good in my current state.
I arrived two weeks previously and landed in the shower, fully clothed. My twin slapped his hand over my mouth to keep me from shrieking the walls down at the shock of the water blasting me in the face.
After helping one Jace Corrins with Clary Clatterbox My Mama Is The Soul Maker, I stayed hidden until we moved into the house Mamie bought for us, and then I finally got to stop shielding my presence from my brother’s most lovely mate.
Not that I’d seen them, mind you. Kansas was very careful about that. I knew they were lovely because he couldn’t stop talking about his Julian. Still didn’t know what the gender was. I mean, our older brother’s name is Shiloh. Mine is Tristan, and well, both of those are feminine. Julian could have been a Toad, for all I knew.
Nothing wrong with Toads. Most were very nice. Better than Elementals, at any rate. Those were just buggy- flies, beetles... You know the type. Judgy, greedy, and flit from one thing to the next. We were Animal and a whole different breed of creature. Fur and scales gave us the emotions Elementals lacked. Animals and Elementals are called Order, as in the natural order of all things. Below Order on the food chain were Witches, and then Humans.
There’s not much to do in Middle End, but thankfully, Kansas found a house with a pool, land, trees, and no neighbors. The ‘no neighbors’ part was important. He and I are both six feet seven inches tall, and when we run furry, the Feline ears add two inches in height, and including the tail, we are twice that long.
We are the gods Cinis and Vitae, ashes and life, but we were both raised Human. Even when we lived with our dads, we still maintained courtesy and respect for others. One of our dads, Raven, has a look that peels your eyeballs from your skull like an onion if you misbehave. He’d made grown Order cry, and a few wet their pants with that look, so no one ever wanted to cross him.
He’s also the one that kissed our boo-boos and tucked us in at night. If we need anything, he’s the one we ask. Scot is more like a big brother and most likely to kill whatever hurts us. Then again, he is War.
In precisely one month, Kansas and I will turn nineteen, and it will be the first time in our existence that he had a lover and I didn’t. I know. Getting laid should not be a priority, and it really isn’t. My focus at the moment is checking on the custom guitar I’m having made for Kansas, for said birthday.
Material things hadn’t always mattered to us because before, we could wake up on a completely different plane, in a completely different year and age. Our honorary Mamie, the Source of all things, has assured us repeatedly that The Veil is home and we can’t be moved unless we move ourselves. We are trusting her judgment because, really? Who would naysay her?
Tristan
1 Tristan
I’d just parked what Kansas lovingly referred to as the seven-oh in the lot and checked to make sure that I hadn’t scratched, dented, or even thought about damaging his beautiful, black, nineteen-seventy Challenger Hellcat with the custom blue flame paint job that fairly fired in 3-D. The dog dish hubcaps were so shiny I could check my reflection in them. It had taken a week and a lot of ‘convincing’ to get it the way he wanted, and he’d had it for one day. I was surprised he let me drive it this morning, but he was taking the Charger to run his own errands.
The air conditioning kicked on above the door to the Guitar shop as soon as I opened the door, and I shivered before continuing to the back counter to speak to Mister Henries. Middle End was a city to everyone but those ‘from here.’ To the natives, it was a small town with small-town charm and a long-forgotten Southern gentility. Oh, they kept up with the times because there were as many Order as Humans, and Order were dangerous if crossed.
“Tristan!” Mister Henries grinned when he spotted me, and I smiled back. “How are you today?”
“I am good, Mister Henries! How are you?” That was not proper English for most people, but I wasn’t most people, and the Fellidehs never said we were fine. Fine was a bad word and usually meant ‘Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional.’ There were times we were just that, and we all gave whoever a wide berth until they were over their pout. ‘Well’ was just as bad and usually meant one step further than fine, down a deep hole of shit.
“I’m good, my boy. I’m good.” Mister Henries was Human, but he dealt with enough Order to know that most, if not all, preferred ‘good.’ Oh, there were other words we used, but not typically in mixed company. Words like ecstatic and copacetic. Those were reserved for private times, said in hushed whispers or over a bowl of Jane and a jar of Grace.
“Could I see it?” I asked, and Mister Henries laughed at my expression. Kansas and I were most definitely all male, and even though we were taller than Order, who topped out at six-five, we weren’t done growing. Our faces were just beginning to angle, and I, unlike my twin, who worked out religiously, was still in that gangly stage. I have been referred to several times as a cute puppy simply because my doe-eyed look was quite charming. Most people could tell I preferred men, but Kansas was confusing. He flirted when he had to, with anyone of any gender, and that charm had him on a first-name basis with nearly everyone he’d met so far.
I followed Mister Henries to the shop behind the counter, and we stopped at a craftsman’s table. There in all its glory, sat his custom Gibson. Well, sort of. I redesigned it to look like a skull connected to the spinal column.
“What do you think?” he asked as I studied the design.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered and nearly touched it, and then thought better of it. I played drums, but Kansas, like our papas, played guitar, electric and acoustic. “He’s going to love it!”
“Good, good. It will be ready on time, now. Don’t you worry, none.”
“I won’t,” I said, following him back to the showroom. He had a customer waiting, so I told him I’d see him Friday and headed for the door.
“Kansas?”
Oh, hell. We were pretending that there was only one of us, and I just didn’t know what to say, so I hurried outside, pretending that I didn’t hear the man.
“Whoa, beautiful! Where are you going in such a hurry?” he asked, taking hold of my elbow and pulling me to a stop. I slipped my sunglasses on before he could see my eyes and smiled.
“Oh. Hey.” I grinned, doing my best Kansas impression. “Damage?”
“Nah. I’m just looking for guitar picks. You got the car,” he said, and I tried to pull through his head for a name, anything to tell me who he was.
“Yeah. Isn’t she purrty?” I asked as he walked around the Seven-Oh.
“I bet she purrs almost as good as you,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I know I scare you when I do that.”
“We’re good,” I said, continuing to smile.
“Are we?” He arched a brow over those mint-green eyes, and I couldn’t stop myself from sighing. Good gods, he was almost as hot as the car, and I resisted the urge to readjust myself. He was the color of caramel from his head to his toes, and I so badly wanted to taste him to see if that matched.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” I asked as he stopped in front of me. I shoved my hands into my pockets because when I was nervous, I tended to sign. We saw everything in colors, and those suckers had a mind of their own sometimes. Movement settled them down so we could concentrate.
“Kansas,” he murmured, close enough that his breath tickled my lips. Oh, gods! He smelled as good as he looked, too. I cleared my throat as he cupped my face in both hands and brushed those full lips against mine. I moaned as he deepened the kiss, and abruptly he backed away. “D
I watched him run into the store, and I sighed in disappointment. My lips tingled, and I was harder than I’d ever been as I climbed into the car and headed home.
Kansas was waiting for me as I pulled into the garage bay, and I thought he was freaking over his baby. “Not a scratch, brother, I promise,” I said, and he stopped pacing, shaking his hands like he did when he was nervous.
“Tris?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sort of mated.”
“Yes, to me.”
“No, I mean, you cover the ‘god’ part, and I love you for that, but when that mess was going on with Jace? Well, Mamie told me to anchor myself?”
“Okay.” I nodded. “I knew that. You told me. I haven’t met them, but...”
“He’s coming to dinner,” Kansas blurted and resumed his pacing. “Brother, I love him. Love love. Not kitten fascination.”
“What are you worried about?” I frowned.
“Please don’t take him away?” he whispered.
“Whoa. Ari was an accident, I swear.”
“You tripped and fell on his cock?” Kansas arched a brow, and I slumped.
“I told you I was sorry!”
“And I forgave you. I’ll kill you over Julian.” He was so calm as he said it, and I knew. He’d do it, too.
2 Sebastian
What in the hell was I thinking? Julian was going to kill me! Then again, I should tell my brother that I kissed Kansas. I should, but I won’t.
I’m a bad brother. The worst kind really. Who in their right mind would go after their twin’s mate? The problem was that I’d never met anyone like Kansas. I had to move. Yep. That’s the only answer for it. That would require leaving JayJay and I couldn’t do that, ever. I was in serious trouble.
“Yo, Baz! What are you glarin’ at over there?” Dee asked.
Dee was my youngest brother, had just turned nineteen, and already found his mate. Lucky little shit. I swear, sometimes, I was the spare and Julian was firstborn. Somehow somebody got that switched, and I just didn’t know what to do with myself these days. We moved from Summer’s End at the beginning of June, and Julian moped for nearly a month waiting for Kansas. Oh, I moped just as much. Just didn’t tell anyone.
“Nothin’. What do you need?” I asked as Dee and Jace peered around my bedroom door.
“JayJay is going to Kansas’ tonight and he told us we were fending for ourselves for supper,” Jace replied.
“Kansas finally got his house in order?” I laughed and they frowned at me.
“Yes, he did. It’s really nice, too,” Dee said.
“How do you know?” I glared at him and he took a step back.
“We saw the listing,” Jace whispered as he stepped in front of Dee to protect him from big bad me, and only caused a shoving match between them. There were nineteen year olds, and then there was Kansas. I glared again at the wall and slammed the door closed on them when their antics toppled them both to the floor.
The door immediately opened again and JayJay stepped over them, waiting until their hands and feet were outside of the room before he slammed it closed again.
“Good gods, brother! What set them off this time?” he asked as the door bulged, and he threw himself into it to keep it closed.
“Dunno. What did you want?” I grumbled.
“I came to borrow your black sweater.”
“It’s ninety degrees, brother! Does Kansas live in an ice box?”
“No? The sweater just goes really well with my black trousers.”
I snorted. “Oh, dude. It’s just Kansas. He’s not going to care what you wear.”
“Right. What do you suggest then?”
“Something red? A nice silk button down?”
“Tee shirt.” JayJay nodded and disappeared. “BOYS!’ my twin yelled, and silence greeted me.
Who in their right mind just randomly kisses someone in a parking lot? This fool. I do. Me. Pitying myself didn’t help. I had to find a mate, and soon. Just couldn’t understand why Kansas allowed it. That part didn’t make any sense in my head. Then again, nothing had made sense since I met him.
Kansas was spicy in a way that made me tingly just thinking about him. Good gods! Could he kiss! I made him moan? Oh, hell! JayJay is going to kill me when he got home.
I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and for the life of me, I didn’t know what to do. Die, most likely. Either of spontaneous combustion or from JayJay. Just didn’t know which, yet.
Why didn’t he push me away? I still didn’t understand. He tasted like cinnamon, and smelled like apples.
“Gods dammit!” I yelled, and put my fist through the wall. The door opened again slowly, and I turned to glare at the intruder.
“Baz?” Dee whispered and I had to look down to find him. The boy was on the floor on his knees, with Jace just above him. They were both watching me like I’d grown an extra head. Well, I had. Literally. I scrubbed my hands over my face and sighed; again.
“Get cleaned up. We’ll go out for supper, but no fighting!”
They closed the door again, discussing what they wanted to eat. School couldn’t start too soon for those two. Several hours a day, away from home, and on a schedule would definitely do them some good. Hell. It would do me some good. Then maybe I could find something to occupy my time besides dwelling on Kansas. Was there anything else?
There had to be something else.
3 Tris
I was stunned. Stupefied. Shocked. I stepped off the last stair after hurrying to get changed, because Kansas said this was nice. Not ‘Nines to the Urn’ nice. Just dress casual nice. Apparently, dining with Julian required black slacks and silk.
There I stood, planted firmly on the floor, and had to hold on to the banister to stay standing. My caramel-flavored waking dream stood in the kitchen, watching my twin take the homemade bread out of the oven, and drinking a beer. He wore a black silk short-sleeved v-neck tee, that clung to every curve. I could see the play of muscles across his back and then cursed myself for even looking.
As a general rule, we didn’t drink wine. Hell, as a general rule, I hadn’t seen anything harder than diet soda in this house for a week. Beer was definitely a ‘date’ thing, and expensive beer was offered to impress.
Good gods, we had a lot of little nuances. We were show instead of tell, and the fact that Kansas was serving a drink we only offered for intimate gatherings was most definitely telling. Diplomacy was everything.
I cleared my throat and Kansas looked up at me, smiling. He and I were dressed exactly the same, but Julian gave me the ‘thanks but no thanks’ smile.
He could tell us apart? That was a good thing, right? Technically, Kansas and I were not identical to anyone with eyes and a nose. Raven was his father, Scot was mine, and Kansas and I shared a womb.
We did not want to share lovers, and so far, we were clear of that. As far as I knew, Kansas had only had one lover, and I was currently trying not to drool over him.
Good gods! We had the same taste in men! Oh, who was I kidding? Of course we did. Colt was absolutely my type-in bed. He was a top and I was a bottom, and, well. Maybe fingers didn’t count?
Did Kansas find Colt attractive at all? I didn’t know. If Colt tried to kiss him, Kansas would turn his face away and those lips landed on his cheek, not his mouth. Then again, Colt hadn’t tried to kiss him until after he and I...Damn. I am a bad brother.
“Baby, wait! I got that!” Julian hurried around the island to drain the pasta. “It’s hot. Be careful.” The man smiled and kissed the tip of Kansas’ nose. The inflections, tone, and cadence were identical to the man who’d kissed me earlier. What the hell had I done? I took a deep breath, pasted a smile on my face, and hurried in to finish the salad.
“Thank you,” Kansas murmured. I had never seen my twin so receptive to help? Maybe? Submissive was not the right word, and never in a million years would I call my brother girly.
