A Twist of Luck (Shifter City Fated Mates #2)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

EMME

“ I ’ll speak with him.” Hunter’s rumble brought me back to reality, and I shook my head, unsure if I’d be able to get any words out.

A few sips of wine helped loosen my muscles. “No, it’s okay. He’s entitled to his feelings, especially when I haven’t been the warmest or most inviting pack mate. Not to mention, we have more important shit to worry about.”

Finley wasn’t wrong; I had tarred them with the same brush as my mom’s pack, and it wasn’t because I thought they were bad alphas. It was due to the deterioration of the Rogers pack over the years as they siphoned their omega’s energy. No pack was immune from the effects of power overload.

“Finley’s emotional damage is heavily scarred into his soul,” Slade said, and I couldn’t get a read from his tone if he was excusing or condemning Finley’s behavior. “What he told you was but a fraction of what he experienced growing up.”

If there was one childhood scar I understood, it was internal emotional damage. I’d felt that connection to Finley from the first second I stared into his eyes. Unfortunately, my emotional damage had triggered his, and now we were at an impasse.

“Anyway, back to Mom’s pack,” I said airily, as if everyone couldn’t hear the way my heart hammered in my chest. “They were quite powerful when she was alive, and even more so after her death. Don’t underestimate them. You’re right that they kept us hidden away, and I don’t know if it was for the same reason that Mom moved us constantly before that, or because they didn’t want anyone to know how they treated their omega. Either way, they’re bad news. I can’t help with any allies or magical connections though—there was no one when I was with them. At least no one they brought around me.”

Hunter leaned forward. “Could they be using magic to increase their alpha energy? It can’t be natural, or they’d have registered it with the councils. We’re the only powerful, all alpha pack registered. I double checked when we returned home.”

Slade’s expression was contemplative as he played with his crystal glass. “It didn’t feel like magical manipulation. There was a true shifter power in their dominance, which doesn’t explain why they’re not registered. The two on the council are listed as having a mid-level dominance, which is clearly not the case. Their magical connection is the oddest part. The last time witches aided in destruction like this, it was the Termaine War.”

Termaine was the coven of witches who’d helped initiate a war almost two decades ago. Even I’d heard of it after listening in on my mom and her pack discussing it in whispered words. I didn’t know much outside of it being a means to overthrow the Alpha Councils. An unknown alpha had gathered a group of witches and rogues to help him destroy the current way and return shifters to a single alpha ruler. Most of those involved in this insurgency were killed in the ensuing battle, but the ringleader was never found.

“Do you think they have more than one witch at their disposal?” I asked, hoping that wasn’t the case.

Slade tilted his head, and I got the distinct impression he was surprised. “Absolutely. The one who attacked us in the car was not the same one who spelled the house. You couldn’t smell the differences in their magical energy?”

I stared at him, before turning to Hunter, who appeared amused. “Uh, no. I didn’t know you could smell the difference in magic. It’s all just stinky rotten eggs to me.”

Slade huffed, and crinkled his brow like that was news to him. “Interesting.”

Hunter’s rumble of laughter was a nice distraction, easing up the remaining tension from Finley’s dramatic exit.

Deciding it was time for a subject change, I asked, “Did anyone find our phones from where we were attacked? Or… my jacket maybe?”

I’d been trying not to think about—or mourn—the amazing custom jacket Kellan had given me on the day we’d been kidnapped. It hurt too much. I especially hadn’t thought about my pretty pink Ducati Penigale V4R motorbike. That, I already knew was toast.

“Yes, I found your phone in one battered piece, but your jacket was shredded by the blast,” Hunter said as he pushed to his feet, pausing when Florence hurried in the room, a huge pot in her hands.

“Sorry about the delay,” she burst out, sounding harried. “We couldn’t find the bay leaves for the beef stew. Gerald almost tore the pantry to pieces.”

I reached out to remove the tray from the center of the table to make room for the gorgeous, burnt-orange ceramic pot, with a notched lid so the ladle could fit. “You’re not late at all, Flo,” I told her as I forced a smile. “We’ve been more than well fed on the starters. Thank you.”

She patted my arm and whipped the tray off me so quickly it almost felt like magic. A second later, my wine was filled, along with both alpha’s whiskey glasses, and while she spared a glance at the spot where Finley’s half-drunk beer remained, she didn’t ask where he was.

No shifter could have missed his outburst.

By the time Florence placed the matching orange bowls next to the stew, Hunter had retrieved my phone, and a spark of joy lit up my insides as he placed the device into my hand. “Sorry, I haven’t had time to get you a new one, but it still works if you… want to read the messages.”

He knew exactly why I wanted this phone—for a piece of Kellan.

Hunter retrieved his newly filled whiskey glass, the MINE flashing at me from his right hand, and I sighed with more contentment than I really had any right to feel. Slade added to that feeling when he reached out to fill a bowl, focusing on the meatier chunks, and then placed it right in front of me. “Thank you,” I whispered, finding it hard to believe this was my life.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to these alphas or the way they made me feel with the simplest of gestures. Slade nodded, sipping his whiskey as well. “You need to eat.”

Both alphas were once again content to drink and watch me eat, which should have felt odd, but it just didn’t. Life had been a fucking adventure the past few weeks, and I was just along for the ride.

The first bite of stew almost blew my mind. Compared to what I’d made in our prison house, this was a masterpiece of flavor and texture. Every part of it seasoned perfectly, every flavor evenly balanced and fulfilling. “Holy shit,” I gasped, scooping up another chunk of meat. “You guys have to try this dish. It’s literally lifechanging.”

Hunter leaned over, and my entire body stilled except for the frantic flutter of a pulse in my neck. He brushed his thumb across my lips, catching a drop of stew I must have missed, and when he brought that thumb to his mouth and tasted it, my lower half clenched embarrassingly hard.

Feeling any sort of arousal when Kellan was unconscious had me mentally slapping myself. But my hormones did not get the same memo. Or my wolf.

We just continued staring at his sinful mouth.

“You’re right,” Hunter rumbled with a smirk. “Lifechanging.”

Well, fuck a shifter.

Hunter was about to have me moaning, and it would have nothing to do with food.

To keep from embarrassing myself, I dove back into the stew, shoveling in spoonfuls until my stomach started to protest. “Are you two going to eat?” I finally asked, taking a break. “You don’t grow and maintain heights and muscles like yours without needing sustenance. What are you both? Six foot eight?”

When Slade smiled, it had almost the same effect as Hunter’s little stew trick. “I’m just over six-nine and Hunter is six-six. Poor little guy.”

My spoon hovered mid-air, halfway to my mouth. “It’s weird when you make jokes. You know that, right? I can never tell if you’re serious or not.”

Hunter grunted out a dry laugh. “He’s serious,” he said. “He does consider me a little guy .”

I tried not to laugh too, but it was impossible in the face of these alphas.

Who knew they’d be so funny? Certainly not me.

Needing to stay busy or I was going to throw myself over the table and into one of their laps, I lifted the lid off the pot and grabbed two bowls for them. I made sure Slade’s was mostly filled with liquid and beef, while Hunter was always happy with a mix of meat and rabbit food.

As I served them, Hunter’s hands flexed like he wanted to take the ladle from me, but my glare kept him from interfering. I took pride in not spilling a drop as I placed the bowls in front of them, smiling and satisfied with my effort.

All the while the alphas watched me with heavy gazes. It wasn’t as if they’d never been served before… Florence served them all the time. But I’d never made any effort to act the part of an omega like this. I wasn’t sure what they thought of my gesture, but I didn’t regret it either.

“There you go,” I said, waving at their steaming bowls. “You’re going to love it. Now eat up.”

It felt hotter in the room suddenly, and I wasn’t sure it had anything to do with the steam rising from the bowls. As I waited for them to recover from my gesture, I wondered if there was another significance here that I had missed. The way they reacted… the deep, focused stares of their beasts in their eyes… it was definitely more .

Hunter picked up on my confusion and said, “For our scent match to feed us… it’s a gesture of courting. Our beasts are losing their minds.”

Slade scoffed, though he didn’t disagree. No doubt a dragon felt slightly different about such a simple gesture. “I didn’t know it was that noteworthy,” I said with a casual shrug, though I felt anything but casual inside. “But I’m happy to dish up your stew whenever you need.”

My lighthearted words were an attempt to lessen the tension, but it had the opposite effect. Hunter growled and grasped me around my waist, hauling me out of my chair and right into his lap. “I can’t eat until you’re satisfied, little omega,” he said, his voice deep and filled with his wolf.

Between his husky tones and Slade’s probing gaze, I was combusting where I sat, needs I hadn’t even known existed battering my body.

Hunter spooned some meat and broth from his bowl and he lifted it to my mouth. I opened automatically, too fuzzy to do more than accept his offering. He rumbled in satisfaction, and growled, “Good girl,” before spooning another, this time for himself.

I stared hard as he wrapped his lips around the spoon. Oh, damn . In my next life, I wanted to come back as that fucking spoon.

Hunter fed me again and I didn’t fight, and all too soon he’d shared that bowl between the two of us, leaving me full to bursting. Sated and content, I let my exhaustion press me into his firm muscles, and tried not to wiggle against him.

He’d been hard under me from the second I landed in his lap, but neither of us acknowledged it, and it didn’t make me feel even slightly uncomfortable. Nope, I was craving another afternoon of Hunter staking his claim all over my skin.

Only this time, I wanted those marks to last.

Unfortunately, the only lasting mark was a claiming bite, which would bring an end to this happiness and contentment, as the energy slowly corrupted him.

Your mom got years with her pack.

It was a truth I’d been steadfastly ignoring, because it was no better than a Band-Aid over a fatal wound. I wasn’t supposed to want this at all, not even for a few years.

But as I sat there cuddled into Hunter Reeves, it grew more difficult to remember the reasons why I couldn’t bond to my pack.

Maybe… a few years would be enough.

After all, a year could feel like a lifetime with the right alphas.