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“There you are, darling,” he murmurs, bending to kiss her head. His gaze finds hers, warmer and softer than I’ve ever seen it. “I have that textbook you need. I’ll go leave it on your dresser, and we’ll review this week’s lessons later, hmm?”
“Yes, Professor.” Serena beams at him but keeps her hands off, even when she tilts her face up.
And my best friend doesn’t skip a beat, dropping a soft kiss on her parted lips.
Damn. I guess he was serious last week when he came home after Serena’s first day at school and told the rest of us that he was going to start reviewing bonding techniques for her heat.
Which is so soon that I swear I can feel it beating in the air sometimes.
Like now, as Spence whispers too low for me to overhear, leaving Serena with an even brighter grin. He strides off toward her bedroom, and we both turn to watch him.
Putting us face-to-face with Tristan.
Things have been less stilted between them ever since the rut. He still holds himself back, and she still feels hurt by it, but at least they can share space easier.
And when her heat comes…
Well. I hope she’ll choose to bond with him first. That way, we’ll be able to form a pack bond, too. But that’s entirely my hummingbird’s decision. And Tristan has forbidden any of us to ask her for anything.
I see why as I watch the way his eyes sweep over her face.
He loves her.
Maybe from seeing the way she’s melted his iceberg of a brother. Or the way she took on all of us last week and somehow left every member of our pack feeling cared for.
Maybe he always has—and this is just the first time I can see the longing pulling at his features.
The poor bastard.
When he catches me watching, his mouth curves into a grim smile. He’s the only one she hasn’t kissed. He never complains, but it must be rough.
Especially since their bodies are outright begging each other to get closer. The entire room is suddenly drenched in summertime sweetness—Tristan’s grassy orange blossoms and Serena’s piña colada perfection.
As her scent winds into the open air, I hear him wheeze. And I start to wonder—what if this isn’t just hard on him?
What if it’s harming him?
Our pack alpha seems determined not to let his pain show. He clears his throat and drops his gaze away from our omega’s.
“I called Dr. Monroe,” he says. “I’ve asked him to come do a pre-heat check-up for you this weekend, Serena. Is that all right?”
She sighs quietly and nods, clearly less than thrilled. I’ve noticed she gets that way about her heat. Avery and I have both tried to bring it up—mostly because I think neither of us can wait—but she usually changes the subject. Or her glorious perfume burns up instantly.
Sort of like now.
A stranger wouldn’t notice the way Tristan’s shoulders fall, but I do. He thinks it’s his fault and starts to turn away. Backing off. Giving her space. Again. Like he can’t see that this shit isn’t working and?—
“Senator.”
He pauses mid-pivot, turning back to the beautiful girl between us. She picks up the pot she’s been fiddling with, which now holds a perfectly packed assortment of succulent plants. After a beat, she thrusts it out to Tristan.
“For your office.”
He blinks at the pot, then at Serena. “You got me a plant?”
She shakes her head. “I grew you a plant. Well, there are a bunch of them in there actually. But, um…” She shrugs, adorably awkward. “Yeah.”
The corner of Tris’s mouth ghosts up. “You grew this?”
