Wyvern Protection Unit - Chapter 49: Chapter 49

Heliodore sucked in a fortifying breath before vaulting over the derailed train car with the burden of a small, dented vehicle on his back.
Exercise was the best thing to cure his sour mood. Lately, his Wyvern had been way out of sorts. He had far too much energy than was advisable for any Shifter capable of leveling an entire building with one well-aimed shot of flame.
His brothers had just about given up on him. His father was disappointed. And their handler had tossed him out on his ear during their last meeting.
Jennifer was usually more sensitive to their needs, but the Owl Shifter wasn’t taking any of his shit. Not that he blamed her.
No one wanted an antsy, restless Wyvern on their hands. Hence why he was in the junkyard, running an obstacle course of his own design.
In his effort to expel some of his negative energy, Dor went to Hector’s place. Good old-fashioned exercise, some outdoor training, and a few blasts of his beast’s fire would set him to rights.
That stuff was like chocolate to the big, bad beastie. Usually, he had plenty of company, but not today. With two brothers mated, having better things to do, Dor was all alone. Whatever. He was determined to earn a good sweat, brothers or not.
What was up with them, anyway? Did being mated mean their taste for violence had somehow been tempered?
Shit.
If that was the case, he’d rather be single. For now, Dor supposed he’d have to get used to it being the two of them.
He turned his head, seeking the youngest Wessex brother, and growled when he saw him loafing on the roof of an old RV. That machine had been in the junkyard for as long as Dor could remember.
Fucking hell.
This new reality sucked balls. He grunted and tossed the car. Then he sent an ice-cold breeze over to where Conny attempted to soak in the sun.
“The fuck, bro?” his brother screeched.
Dor ignored the dickhead and continued with his run through the obstacle course. His muscles burned under the intense workout, but it was a good kind of burn.
He chugged from a gallon of water, refilled from the hose. Then off he went, running, climbing, jumping, lifting. And again. Another hour and he’d be ready to practice his powers with his brother.
Just me and Conny. Alone. Again.
The Wyvern brothers each had their own unique talents. Unlike most Shifters, they were able to access a special magic that acted as a conduit for their dual natures.
Allowing them to be deadly not only with their beasts’ natural strength and fire, but with other aspects as well. But with these powers came more practice. Control was a tricky thing.
The oldest of the four siblings was what they referred to as an old school fire breather. Only, Jasper’s fire was so intense Jennifer had a computer calibrate his heat once and found it capable of matching that of the sun.
Larimar was something else. The beast could communicate with other creatures in his mind. Even weirder, he could talk to the dead. That little gem had recently saved his mate’s life.
Zircon’s powers were still untested, but so far, the youngest of them had been known to call lightning to his aid. A weather manipulation of sorts similar to Heliodore’s powers.
Actually, Dor’s talents were specific to the cold. He could channel frost, ice, and, of course, the occasional cold as a witch’s tit wind to bust his brother’s balls.
Where did that saying even come from? Were witches’ titties even cold?
Fuck if he knew.
Aghh. He was so damn amped up. Dor really needed to get rid of this angsty energy. Not that he didn’t get along with Conny, but the fucker was no match for Dor’s appetite for destruction.
What could he say? It had been months since their last bad guy had been taken down. The Necromancer was one whacked out dude.
But he’d fucked with the wrong woman. The man had signed his own death certificate when he went after Lari’s mate, and as a result, had been on the receiving end of an ass-whooping dealt by the .
The paperwork that resulted from that little incident had really sucked. Jennifer, their handler, could be such a hardass. But they loved the Great Horned Owl Shifter. Well, that was if love and fear were the same—the woman was downright scary at times.
“Come on, Dor, it’s been three hours. I’m ready to call it a day, man,” Zircon growled as he got up and tried to keep up with his older brother.
“Are you serious? Conny, just fucking go home then,” he grunted, landing on the mud covered ground.
It was June and the Garden State had just been battered by one helluva tropical depression, dumping several inches of rain where they did not need any.
Give Dor a good old snow storm any day. He’d rather have three feet of the fluffy white stuff than monsoon-like flooding that had ravaged much of the state.
He was a winter kind of guy, anyway. Snow, ice, cold temps, perfect weather for him and his beast. Summertime? Not so much.
His beast snorted in agreement. Winter was the ideal time for Dor to show off. It was more difficult to control frost in all this humidity and heat.
We can do it. We are powerful.
Okay, fine. His Wyvern was a tad bit cocky, not that Dor could blame him. They kicked ass. Especially in the snow. He pulled on his powers as he watched his brother grab his pansy ass gym bag, and using no little amount of energy, he flung a snowball at his brother’s head.
“Dammit, Dor! What the actual fuck?” Conny growled as the enormous snowball shattered on top of his big head and immediately started melting.
“What? Who said it was me?”
“Really? Like Hector could suddenly call snow from the air?”
“I heard that. Could if I wanted,” mumbled the older sloth from his office.
“Okay, fine,” Dor replied, ignoring Hector’s ridiculous claim.
Of course, Sloths can’t call snow to them. That power is reserved for magnificent creatures like us, his Wivern hissed.
“You’re a dick,” Conny muttered.
“Look, bro, you gotta be ready for anything,” he replied with a wicked grin.
Dor guffawed and ducked just in time to miss the lightning bolt Zircon hauled at him. On it went, the two now embroiled in a lightning/snowball fight.
It was hardly fair and took a lot of power, but Heliodore was finally able to use up some of his excess energy. By the time they were done, both Wyverns were heaving with exertion.
“You know, we’re damn lucky to live in Jersey.”
“Yeah, why’s that?” Conny grunted, shaking snow out of his shorts.
“We get every season and have the best damn egg creams in like a hundred-mile radius.”
“You going to CyberSodas?” Dor asked, already knowing the answer.
Zircon was freaking obsessed with the old school soda shoppe, famous for its strawberry chutney sweet potato fries and soda floats. Also, their egg creams, which Heliodore had to admit, were fucking phenomenal.
“Yeah, want me to bring you something?”
“Nah,” Dor replied. “But bring Dad a vanilla shake. Old man needs fattening up.”
“You got it.”
Their father had recently gone into remission. The cancer that had been killing him was eradicated by a certain Egyptian Demon who was on their side now.
Go figure.
Heliodore spent the next few minutes cleaning up the mess he and Conny had made at Hector’s junkyard. The boys did their best to only damage the old wrecks he’d okayed for their training, but shit happened.
Still, the Sloth Shifter welcomed the WPU to practice there whenever they liked. He sometimes asked the brothers to help him move the mountains of junkers and spare parts into more manageable piles.
After everything they did for him, the boys were happy to accommodate the older Sloth. With his muscles tired and his magic humming, the yellow-scaled beast inside of Heliodore stretched happily.
“Alright, man, later. Damn, I am spent,” Conny grunted.
It was just like his youngest sibling to pull a fast one on him. Of course, Conny would try to skip out before anteing up.
Asshole.
Before he could do anything about it, the younger Wessex’s cell phone chirped, and he ran to get it. Dor knew that ringtone.
It was reserved for a special someone. The one person they all had contact with, but to Zircon, it was more than just a work-related thing.
Dor frowned hard.
The Great Horned Owl Shifter was no one to fuck with. Dor respected the shit out of Jennifer Dylluan. She was one of the smartest, fiercest women he’d ever met.
The fact she worked for the DPCA, the Department of Paranormal Creatures and Activity, as their handler, only meant she was that much more badassed. For some reason, Conny’s Wyvern had imprinted on her.
He never admitted it, but Heliodore knew. Even worse, so did Jennifer, though he had never once seen her encourage his brother in his errant feelings.
Heliodore waited for Zircon to outgrow his inappropriate crush, but it hadn’t happened yet. Even worse, his little bro would not discuss it. Not with any of them.
Whatever was going to happen between the lightning Wyvern and the Owl Shifter, Dor had no idea. He figured it would just have to play out naturally.
“What?” Conny yelled, eyes flashing at his brother.
Fuck. Something was wrong.
“We’ll be right there,” he said. “Dor, we gotta go.”
“I’m not done working out⁠—”
“Carolina is in the ER!” he shouted.
Fear assaulted Heliodore as he pictured his oldest brother and their mate in some state of emergency. What if something was wrong with the baby? Fuck. he had to go to them in their time of need.
It was not even a question. Dor and Conny got moving. Worry permeated the air between them, like burned ashes.
Truth was, no one knew what to expect when a Wyvern mated a human.
The four brothers were the only Wyvern Shifters they knew of in existence. Not that they knew for certain there weren’t more, but Shifters were secretive, and no one knew where they had come from.
Being born in a lab sure had its drawbacks, and this was the worst one. Worry for his sister-in-law, Jasper, and their young plagued him.
Dor grabbed his belongings and followed Zircon, swapping skin for scales. Taking to the skies, they used their innate cloaking abilities to hide themselves from human eyes.
He did not know what they could do to help, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try something.