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“So, we were wrong,” Crow says.
“You heard everything?” I ask.
“Yes, we heard everything.”
“She thinks she’s in love with us,” I accuse. “She thinks we’re going to go home to mummy and daddy and play happy pack families.”
“You can’t fall in love this fast,” Hunter whispers. “It's crazy. It’s been a day.”
Crow punches the pillow. “We made an oath. We only agreed to do this to help her through her heat.”
“And that is still an issue. But imagine just how in love she thinks she’s going to be after we knot her. I think we’ve really fucked up here,” I murmur, rubbing my hands with my face. Suddenly, I feel so tired, so old.
“It won’t be that bad,” Hunter protests. “We’ll talk to her, after the heat, when she’s safe, and we are.”
“She’s going to be expecting bonding bites, Hunter!” Crow says and sits up. “Fuck, why does every good deed turn out to bite us in the ass?”
“Bonding bites,” I murmur. I feel queasy and giddy at the same time, and I have to be honest that I’m starting to chub up a bit. The idea of marking that unmarred omega with my bond, my mark. Being the pack that owns her, feeling her inside us, the idea makes me sick with need. Or just sick. I’m obviously confused and sleep-deprived.
“So what are we doing, like, some kind of spare the bond type thing? Just not bite her, no matter what? What if we want to?” Hunter growls. “What if our instincts try to force us?”
“We are more than our instincts,” I say to them over my shoulder. “We can control ourselves.”
Crow grunts. “Sometimes we can control ourselves.”
I shake my head, instantly remembering when Crow’s designation hit, and he launched himself at Hunter and tried to bond him there and then. Fuck, it was funny. There he was, thin and outweighed by both me and Hunter, and chopping his damn teeth at us like a zombie.
To be fair, we were drunk when it happened, and a sharp blow to the stomach was enough to calm him down.
“She loves love. She believes in it. Bethany wants to take us home to her farm and introduce us to her family,” Crow whispers and shudders dramatically.
We all sit to digest that horrifying information.
“We aren’t the kinds of alphas you take home to your mother,” Hunter’s soft growl hurts, but I don’t know why. Do I want to be the kind of alpha an omega could proudly take home?
“Not her mother, but close enough,” I say absently. “Her dad will hate us. Most people do.”
I lay back in the bed and put my hand over my eyes as if I can block out everything that’s happened. “She’s really, really beautiful, though, and when she talks, I want to make her happy. I could almost believe in the fairy tale she’s spinning.”
Hunter grunts. “She’s our scent match, I’m sure of it. Our instincts are going to drive us to make her ours.”
“We have to resist,” Crow says quietly. “Love doesn’t exist like it does in those fairy tales. It will destroy everything. She will hate us, eventually. In time.”
I hate the bitterness in Crow’s voice, but our story is one of love and loss.
We grew up with only each other to depend on. Just us.
Everyone else who said they loved us let us down. Everyone else who said they loved us left. Love is pain and disappointment. It’s being left behind. It’s being beaten and starved. Love is agony and betrayal.
No, thanks. They can keep their love.
But then I think of the way her face shone in the moonlight and the desire in her expression. And I admit to myself that, in the darkest parts of me, I want to give her what makes her smile. I want to believe.
If that makes her happy and chases away the sorrow, I want to be the one to give it to her.
I sit up and head to the shower. I need to see her.
Maybe in the light of day, I can convince myself that I’m wrong and she’s not making impossible demands.
