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We didn’t plan to have one at all, so it isn’t as though I’ll be giving up some lifelong dream. But I’ve realized more and more over the last few weeks, while we’ve dedicated ourselves to our love for Serena, we’re not nearly as strong a pack as we could have been. And I regret that immensely, because each of these alphas has made me so proud to be their leader.
Serena whimpers in my arms just as the heating pad beeps. It’s cordless, thanks to Spencer’s forethought. I slip it right under her dress, nuzzling the side of her head as I whisper directions.
“Arms up. I’m going to put you in one of Jo’s T-shirts, okay? If it isn’t warm enough, I also have one of Avery’s hoodies here.”
She nods, letting me maneuver her arms and torso until she’s snuggled into her layers. I tuck her into her bed and pull the sheets up, trapping most of her mind-melting perfume under the duvet so I can keep a clear head.
I’ve already alerted Myles to the situation. Aside from making any necessary food deliveries, he’ll be steering clear of the house altogether. In the meantime, he’ll inform my aides, Jonah’s coach, and Spencer’s TA’s not to expect any of us until next week.
Serena is my sole focus. I take her temperature and brush out her hair, quietly telling her any funny pack stories I can think of. Like the time we tried to take a road trip and Spencer developed a tick in his eye after three hours of listening to Ave and Jonah bicker. And the one wedding we all attended as a pack, where a much younger, much scarier Avery accidentally panicked the bride and she fell into her own cake.
Serena’s little giggles fill me with satisfaction so much sweeter than her scent. For a long moment, while her chuckles die down, we just stare at each other. Our eyes lock in the low light of her celestial bedroom.
“Tris,” she whispers, gazing up at me. “Come here for a second?”
She frowns and points at her nape, like maybe some of her hair is tangled in her hummingbird necklace. I lean around her to investigate, my focus trained on the thin gold chain.
It looks fine to?—
Every single thought I’ve ever had evaporates.
Because her teeth have found my neck. And they sink right into it, breaking the skin once and for all.
chapter
sixty-one
Jonah gives an evil chuckle, counting the stack of cash he just won.
Or, rather, Avery just won.
“Every damn time,” Serena’s big man mutters, shaking his head with a grin. “The kid never lets me down.”
He’s full of shit. We all know he gives the money he bets right back to Ave. He’s done it that way for years. Though, maybe, this time, they’ll use it to take Serena out instead.
We should celebrate, after her heat. Avery’s debut was a resounding success. Even without a trainer or a coach, he took his opponent down in two rounds, thrashing him so completely that he couldn’t even stand for the third.
TKO—a technical knockout. I researched all the proper terminology before coming along tonight.
Jonah’s been snorting ever since the other fighter went down. I admit, it was a bit humorous to watch the announcer try to bestow victory on our packmate while he glared daggers at him.
Avery clearly just wants to get home to our omega. The notion is a relief. I’ve never been so worried about anything or anyone before, and my anxiety is becoming intolerable. My Alpha looms nearer to the surface with every breath and only settles when Serena is in my arms.
I have two baskets of our sheets. Worn clothes from all four of us. All the cleaning products are hidden in her bathroom. Watering cans for the plants?—
My mind restlessly repeats the same to-do list I’ve reviewed a thousand times while we wait outside the locker room. Inside, a medic is stitching a deep gash under Avery’s left eye. He grumbles and growls the whole time but allows it, knowing having an open wound would upset our sensitive darling more than usual.
The doors at the end of the tunnel-like hall swing open, revealing a blond alpha who’s altogether too well-dressed for a place like this.
His eyes scan over us, clearly absorbing every small detail. My tapping foot, Jonah’s fist full of cash. The fading love bites we both have on prominent display.
I don’t see any bites on him, but he has a gold wedding band and the distinctly settled air of a bonded alpha. When he clips closer, my instincts recoil from the scent tucked into the front of his suit jacket. It looks like a powder-blue pocket square to match his suit, but the scrap absolutely reeks of another omega.
I’d forgotten how indifferent I used to feel about their scents, generally. Now, though, everything in me balks. It isn’t Serena, so it’s wrong.
My Alpha and I have been agreeing more and more lately. At first it was disconcerting, but as time has gone on, I’ve started to take comfort in it.
The certainty feels good.
