Chapter 37
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Howling winds smash against the tiny cabin making the walls groan under the strain. And even though we lost power an hour ago, King had us all racing around triple checking we were as safe as possible, with enough wood nearby so we can survive for days if need be. Although, you’d never know there was a major weather event bearing down on us or maybe you would if Tristan and King weren’t around. She’s always had that ability to fill my focus, and King, he demands it.
For fuck’s sake, we’re sitting around a table full of food like it’s Christmas night; all that’s missing are the carols playing in the background.
I’m not surprised by King’s hospitality. He has that undeniable pull only real Alphas do, where life is about forming good strong, healthy bonds. There’s no doubt he would do a complete personality backflip and become a dangerous threat if we stepped one inch out of line, but so far, we’re good.
King’s hard to get a proper feel for. One minute he’s outside threatening Steel, the next he’s cooking for us while doting on her. He demands constant respect and when he talks everyone is expected to listen, but at the same time if one of us speaks, he pays full attention and offers solid advice without being a condescending prick.
I came close to getting on his bad side earlier and that was intimidating enough, and considering I get in the cage with near feral Alphas every time I fight, it says a lot about his dominance. The way he fucking stood over me and all but read me the riot act is going to stick with me for a while. And he didn’t hold back either, telling me in no uncertain terms that I left Tris in a very vulnerable position by letting her walk through the crowd with the scent of my come over her. He was shaking with anger with what I did, but he was near raging that I didn’t walk her out to her car. I got it. I felt like a dick myself. When he calmed down enough, he simply stared me down and said I need to change the way I think since she’s the centre of our shared universe.
And that is another shock to the system, not that today has been full of bombshells and revelations already. First them being here? Fucking impossible. Tyson and Tristan meeting before today? Again, I would have said fucking improbable.
Her whispering in my ear the same thing I blurted out to her about being scent compatible—fucking a dream come true. But without doubt what has me the most shocked is how the living fuck he is okay with the concept of her packing us. Well, that’s not quite true. I know the reason, she’s sitting across from me looking incredible and scenting up a storm, toying with the four of us like a cat does a mouse.
I’m in so much goddamn trouble where she’s concerned.
Somehow, she’s getting more attractive the more she relaxes. Without a lick of make-up on, and her hair bundled in a knot I can’t get over how stunning she looks. And I can’t for the life of me take my eyes off her. It doesn’t help that she walked out after a quick shower in nothing but a hoodie and a pair of long socks.
I thought King would have issues in her walking around barely dressed and filling the room with her scent but if anything, he’s encouraging her.
“King, you start grace for us.” Tristan’s demure as she speaks as her eyes flutter down submissively, but when they lift, they’re shimmering and full of a mix of trouble and excitement.
He rocks back on his chair, a similar glint in his eye and it adds to the growing promise in the air… not of violence but of her heat. “The sooner you eat, killer, the sooner I do.” He smirks, and there’s a clattering of cutlery from down her end as she stands up, knocking plates and bowls in her hurry to pass the food around.
Even though the two of them are clearly a couple and have been for a while, together they’re inclusive in everything they do and say. But Tristan has another ability with a simple look or using just a handful of words she makes it seem you’re the most important thing in her world. When our hands touch, it’s intentional and she’s not hiding the way she”s responding to each of us either, but I keep locking up when she turns her attention my way.
“Maverick?” Her voice hits like an arrow in my chest while her bubble-gum scent hits me right in the knot.
The closer she gets to her heat, the harder it is to think logically when all I want to do is either bend her over or spread her out over the table so we can all take turns dining on her slick.
“Maverick?” she asks again. But the cheeky witch is smiling and it’s confirmation she knows exactly what her scent and flirting is doing to me.
Before I can answer, King starts chuckling again and it has an immediate and physical effect on her; she squeezes her eyes shut, bites her lips, and squirms on her seat.
“You good, killer? Looks like you’re struggling. Anything we can help with?”
After a few shaky and very loud exhales she unfolds herself, flicks her hair back before she looks down the table slowly at all of us. “Two can play that game, baby.”
She lifts her leg, putting her foot on the edge of the table before she slowly rolls her sock off and throws it over her shoulder. “Anyone else getting hot?”
Tyson moves the quickest and brushes his hand over her forehead before passing a glass of water to her. “Eat what’s on your plate and drink your water first.”
“Doctors orders? I think you need to do that thing with your fingers again,” she retorts in a flash.
“Eat.” He barks.
And like she does with King, she responds in an instant, closing her eyes and blowing out a deep steadying breath as her sweet scent thickens with her arousal.
She takes a huge bite of her hamburger, stretching her mouth ridiculously wide in the process, her eyes roaming all over Tyson as she slowly chews her way through it before taking a gulp of her water. “Good girl,” he praises and her eyes flash to glittering onyx and she crosses her legs again.
“Show me,” Tyson demands. Her mouth pops open and her legs spread wide.
And holy shit she gets off on him being bossy with her.
Tyson twists around in his chair to get a better look between her legs before leaning forward and swiping a finger over her pussy. She snatches Tyson’s hand and holds it there, rocking her hips gently as her eyes drift back to King.
A stillness hit the four of us as she hypnotises us with her scent and her gentle whimpers, but before she can get off, Tyson pulls his fingers out, making her hiss softly. He holds her eye as he rubs his slicked-up fingers together before sucking them clean.
“Finish the food on your plate.”
And then he stares at her, his face impassive but his eyes are full of challenge, and they don’t change when she drops her chin and does an award-winning pout.
“Killer,” King warns, “you got told to do something. You gonna fight us on something as simple as food?”
It’s natural the way Tyson and King align, and she figures out almost immediately and doesn’t waste time arguing. Instead she turns to me. “Mav?”
“No chance. That’s between you three.” I throw my hands up. Honestly, there’s no chance I’d have the discipline to tell her to eat; I’m still fighting not to grab her hair and rut into her from behind.
Instead of her defiance, I get an eye roll. She goes to look at Steel, but Tyson takes charge again.
“I’ve already told you; you eat and drink before you do anything or anybody else.”
She smirks. “I thought you were a doctor. Maybe I need something else.”
“I am a doctor.” He growls before pulling his hand free from between her legs and snatching her burger off her plate. “And I know exactly what you need right now. Unless of course you’re planning to ride your heat without an Alpha. Guess I was wrong about what was going to happen, or you could admit you were. Wrong, I mean.”
He’s always had the ability to coerce people. Growing up we looked to him for direction. When we decided to pack, there was no question he’d be the Alpha in charge of us but the way he leads is more like a coach who lets you do things on your own unless you screw up, and then he’ll take charge. Completely different way of leading compared to King.
Tyson winks at her the second she stops being a brat.
“You don’t have to rub it in,” she sasses.
“Pretty sure I do. Otherwise, you can just admit you were wrong. ‘Tyson, you’re right’ wouldn’t be that hard to say, would it?” he deadpans again, and she shakes her head laughing.
“I love being an Omega, don’t get me wrong but the start of it, I’m not a fan of. And the suppressors make me extra moody sometimes. And that’s not me saying Tyson was right because that shit would go straight to his head,” Tristan says, talking to us while she smiles at him. “I have a question, or maybe it’s I need answers.”
“So, take a bite and ask away.” Tyson passes her the burger, and then he starts massaging her foot. And that’s the other side of Tyson’s personality, a deep-seated need to care.
After eating another part of her burger, she looks around at all of us. “How long do you think we’re going to be here?”
I jump in quickest since I spoke to the people in town. “The Sheriff was telling people to stock up with enough food and water for a week. But they always exaggerate so people aren’t under prepared. Between us we’ve got plenty of food and water.”
And it’s almost like fate pushed us to be here together because with the supplies we brought, what King arranged and what Tristan had stashed in her car we could stay here for a month and not go without.
“And the roads are blocked already? Are we or are we not trapped here until the storm passes?” she asks, accepting Tyson’s tug on her foot indicating she’s to eat more.
“You got somewhere else you want to be?” King snaps. His eyes boring into her. She smirks at King being stroppy before Tyson flicks his chin up at her, riding her hard to keep eating.
Tristan doesn’t answer King’s question, and she picks at the food on her plate. I reach over and take an extra helping of the things she clearly likes from my plate—the fries and potato bake. God knows where she puts it, but before two blinks she’s inhaled what I put there. I go to give her more, but she shakes her head. “You’re amazing, Maverick. Thanks. But that is enough. Isn’t it, Tyson?”
No one misses the smirk of satisfaction as she rests her plate on the table again. But I still add more fries along with a dollop of ketchup. She looks at me like I gave her the world before she picks one up to avoid looking at anyone. “We need to figure out what’s going to happen. Tomorrow, I mean, not tonight,” Tristan says quickly before stuffing all of them in her mouth like a chipmunk.
I knew she wasn’t a right proper Omega, not that I’ve met very many, but she’s so damn confident in just being herself it’s refreshing and energising to be around. Because no shit, Steel and I, Tyson to a lesser degree, have been living in a fucking hellhole, barely hanging on, and constantly fighting to survive for a long time. I stop and take a minute to thank the fates for making our paths keep crossing but then her comment has me curious.
“What’s happening tonight?” I ask her.
“King’s putting out.”
Steel chokes on his beer. And she bursts out laughing. It’s sexy as fuck and infectious, even making Steel smile. Sort of. Tristan throws her napkin his way.
“He is.” She stands up, her bare ass cheeks popping out the bottom of the hoodie she’s wearing as she leans over and whispers into Tyson’s ear before twisting around to look at Steel and me on the other side of the table. “Oops.”
King’s too quiet and I expect a glare from him after staring at her ass but instead he’s sitting further back in his chair, manspreading like he’s King of the Universe, his whole being narrowed toward her. Feeling me watching him, he turns and offers an unapologetic shrug for being so head over heels for her. Seriously, the way he looks at her is unnerving.
“Final thing before King blows my mind.” She wiggles her eyebrows before looking at all of us. “I’ve said it a few times and since we’re all trapped in here”—she pauses again, biting her lip suggestively confirming she has absolutely no issue with us being holed up with her and her fast-approaching heat—“the thing about Omegas in heat and Alphas that scent like ambrosia and look like you lot do…”
“How does it work with King?” Tyson asks, his hand skating up under her clothes as he holds her close.
Her eyes jump to his, and much like the look on his face the same one is on hers.
“How long have you two been together?” Steel asks. And it’s the first time he asked a question all night.
King holds his stare. “A long time.”
He shakes his head at King’s response, and I know Steel, he’d be hung up on the fact King hasn’t claimed her, but I understand without knowing anything more about their relationship because I’m living something similar.
But Tristan senses the real question Steel didn’t ask, “A scar on my throat, Steel, would have been dangerous.”
“Why?” I ask, leaning closer.
She and King share another look, one that gets my Alpha riled up in an instant. Tension similar to what I get before a fight burns through my blood as every cell in my body goes into full protective mode. I have to push back in my seat to ease the instant and intense build up in my body. She turns and starts walking my way without any concern of my Alpha rage, instinctively knowing it’s not directed at her.
“Maverick,” she soothes. In one word she starts to take control of my anger, twisting it around into something not like rage but more like comfort. Her hands drop to the top of my chair, and she pushes to make room for herself and then she glides on my lap, her hands cupping my face while her presence wraps around me in comfort. “I’m okay. I’ve always been okay. Look at me.”
Adrenaline clouds my thoughts making her words take longer to register, and of course she senses that and wiggles her body against mine, reminding me on a more basic level that she is in my arms, and she is like she said, okay.
“Maverick, I’m okay,” she repeats, while her touch keeps anchoring me until I can formulate a response more than a roar.
“I didn’t know,” I manage eventually. My jaw aches at how hard I clench it.
“That’s why Big Tom is always with me.”
“And I let you walk alone after the fight.”
King takes control, responding on an Alpha level to my freak out by being more clinical and direct as a way of handling my Alpha going sideways. Unsurprisingly, I have no issue with him. My Alpha doesn’t interpret anything he does as a challenge even though we are Alpha vs Alpha about the same unbonded Omega. Without stopping, he lists threat after threat Tristan has received while she keeps infusing her warmth and sunshine my way, further sating the beast that rose up defensively only moments ago.
Once King is done, he finishes talking, giving me the chance to sort through the facts and emotions while she keeps staring directly into my soul.
“Please tell me no one has ever hurt you.” My words are directed at her, but he answers. And clearly there’s more coming because Tristan picks up my hands and wraps them around her as a way to anchor me.
“Tristan was attacked right after we met. Same night our Southern Chapter was hit by Death Riders.”
I close my eyes and slump back against my seat in horror.
She follows me, her arms holding me tight as her mouth rests against my ear. “It only happened once, Mav. I promise. I never go anywhere without Big Tom and Tonka.”
And I do feel reassurance that it only happened once. I’m still not happy knowing she got hurt by someone but it’s different than what I imagined. But King’s mood drops. It plummets dramatically and the lull I was feeling in her arms, the warmth of the cabin we’re all in drops.
“Not true. Is it, Steel?” King snaps. The cold fury engulfing him is impossible to misinterpret.
Tristan doesn’t let me go and if anything, she talks louder into my ear. “Don’t listen to King. I only got attacked once. We’re not including Raney’s, King, that’s not fair.”
“He didn’t have a choice,” I tell her, not that it excuses Steel being involved but it is the truth.
“And I bet he feels awful about it now,” she answers both me and King.
“I don’t fucking care,” King barks, his hand slamming down on the table making the plates crash and Tristan jump.
She turns her head and stares him down. She doesn’t move a muscle or say a word. The way these two can argue without saying a word out loud is pretty obvious, but that’s probably because I can do the same with Steel.
“I’m gonna head out,” Steel mumbles, as he swings out of his chair headed straight for the door.
It guts me to see him like this, and before I can lift Tristan off my lap to chase after him, King is out of his seat moving like a bolt of lightning. “You walk out that door, Steel, I will drag your ass back here. And then I really will be pissed off.”
“Why? Huh? It’s pretty clear…” Steel fires back, his hackles up in an instant.
King’s finger jabs in Steel’s face. “You got no right getting all defensive. She nearly got fucking hit by a bullet!”
Tyson stands up to take a step to mediate, his eyes locked on his brother. “Tell him.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter!” Steel snarls, slapping King’s hand away.
Tristan pulls my face back to hers, her eyes asking me to wait and not get involved. I get it, King and Steel have huge issues and you can feel the sparks flying when they’re next to each other, but I hate conflict and avoid it at all costs.
“They need to work this out.” She smiles encouragingly at me, but I also get it at the simmering tension around us. Together we twist around to watch, just in case. While her words and her scent are soothing, her body is tense under my hands, like she’s ready to spring into the thick of it too and helping her feel better gives me something to do which is what I need.
Tyson barks suddenly, drawing himself in not as a protagonist but not as a simp either. If anything, it’s eerily similar the way Tyson pushes Steel to how King did only a second ago. Tyson takes a breath before the words pour out of him. “Of course it fucking matters, Steel! Rex beat the living shit out of you because you refused to get involved.”
King takes a step out of Steel’s space and twists to watch Tyson talk, and you can see the cogs turning but he wants the facts and the only person who has that is Steel. “Spill.” King jabs a finger at Steel again.
Tyson takes a step forward, and you can hear the opening of his mouth as he goes to talk for Steel but King silences him with a wave that dismisses anyone thinking of speaking on Steel’s behalf. “Steel’s story, he needs to tell it. Or it will ruin whatever chance they have.”
“Of what? What am I gonna wreck, huh?” Steel throws his hand up at King, completely skipping over how Steel was once again dragged into Rex’s world.
But that drama is instantly put to one side as I feel her physically recoil in my arms as soon as his words spit out. And then I’m the one trying to soothe her with my touch and scent. I’m used to Steel saying one thing and meaning another, but she’s not. It takes no time at all for the fallout of Steel’s words to hit home for the others; a faded, washed-out version of her usual sugary sweet bubble-gum scent fills the space.
She drops her eyes, knowing it’s pointless to deny the sting of his words, but when she raises her blue eyes to mine, she raises her chin too. Like it’s second nature, she’s already buried the hurt from Steel’s insinuation away. And that guts me because clearly, she’s an expert at hiding away the pain of being let down.
Tristan’s lips press together when she looks back over at King and Steel. The two of them are locked in a battle of wits but I can still read the regret in Steel’s body language. And then it’s as if her scent slams into him, he finally turns to face her, and the regret I read before is amplified in his eyes. But Steel is such a stubborn asshole sometimes, and when he refuses to apologise for being a dick the more obvious thing is his inability to apologise. No one misses that.
King moves, and I lift Tristan off my lap, getting ready to break up these two trading blows but instead of fighting he starts slow clapping Steel. “And you, you stubborn prick, just proved my point, ’cause you feel her deep, don’t ya?” But then King moves wicked fast and picks Steel up by the throat and slams him against the wall. “You remember I also told you if you hurt her that I wouldn’t hold back, but here we are and your heart’s still fuckin’ ticking.”
Tristan gets off my lap, her hands trail over my lower back as she walks past. Instead of going to either of their defence, she starts clearing the table, and all of a sudden, she looks exhausted.
Tyson is over helping her before she’s even lifted the first plate. It looks like he’s made the conscious decision of leaving King and Steel to sort out their grievances which in turn also confirms his connection with her. I feel like an intruder when Tyson leans over and cups her face. It’s a very private moment, his concern is as clear as the two numb nuts sorting out their beef.
And I’m torn right down the middle; naturally I want to rush to Steel’s defence while the other part wants to slap him stupid for denying he’s compatible with her on so many levels.
I’ve spent the better part of my life backing him up. I’ve got scars on my body and bruises on my soul to prove it. Everything has been because I wanted to protect him from Rex’s malicious games and the bullshit at the club, but I can’t back him when it comes to Tristan. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say, I can but I won’t.
I hope he just doesn’t fuck it up before he admits to himself that everything he wants is currently in these four walls; An Omega to love him back to life, an Alpha who will protect our pack, a family asides Tyson to always push him to be better.
But I also want him to admit that I’m a part of what he wants too because I can love, protect, and encourage him as a person I love, or as a pack mate.