Soren
Stepping out of the shower to find a man in black leaning against the counter could be either a fantasy or a nightmare. These days, I seem to be balanced precariously between both, but my heart starts to ping-pong against my ribs as I take in Creed’s form. His size and intensity are definitely intimidating, but the look in his chocolate-brown eyes sends a rush of anticipation across my skin. Probably because they’re raking down my damp body, lingering on the growing bulge under my towel. “See something you like?” I ask cheekily as I flick my black hair back, preening a little at the attention.
“Always,” he murmurs, grabbing another towel off the counter and stepping forward to press it to my chest. Creed’s almost twice my size, but he’s gentle as he dries me off, his fingers lingering on the shadows under my eyes. “Couldn’t sleep?”
We’re in the bathroom down the hall from the pack nest, since I didn’t want to wake the others. Lang came in late from his faculty meeting, and Derek is working so hard on Finn’s assignment, his fingers twitch all night, like he’s working an invisible keyboard.
“Just a stupid dream. Is Emily back?”
“Tucked up in the nest with Finn and the others.”
I relax, that itch under my skin dissolving at the news. I’ve been on edge ever since Derek told me Emily was taking a shift at the pub downtown. She’s technically not working there anymore, but a bunch of servers were out with the flu, and she was offered double pay. Not like she needs it, with all the sugar daddies in her life, but she told Derek she wanted to put the extra cash towards Christmas presents.
Bless her sweet, perfect heart.
I press a hand to the spot in my chest where her bond has settled, as warm and welcoming as one of her candles. “I missed you,” I admit, gazing up into Creed’s face. “But I’m glad I bonded them, and I won’t apologise for not waiting.”
“I’m glad you did, too. And waiting was only a precaution.” He wraps his hands around my back, his thumbs brushing down my spine. “You’re a good alpha, . You gave them exactly what they needed.”
The flush of pride under my skin is rare these days, but even when I was mindless with pain, little signs of Creed’s approval would always make me salivate for more.
“And what do you need, Alpha?” We’re close enough that stray drops of water spot the front of his suit. “I can always take a second shower, if you’re feeling a little dirty.”
“How about a walk on the beach?”
I blink at him in surprise, but he’s already slipping out of his suit jacket and handing me my jeans. I don’t think he means a midnight skinny-dip, so I pull them on, turning up the cuffs so they don’t drag in the sand. When we reach the track behind the house, the moon is as round and bright as a dinner plate, and I suck in a breath at the way it shimmers off the ocean. The scientist in me knows that when moonlight hits moving water, each ripple becomes a mirror, but my romantic side has me linking my arm through Creed’s. “Did you know that the long trail of shimmering light is called a moon glade?”
He shakes his head, his eyes still on my face, and I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Sometimes, I dream that I’m still locked up. Not back in that room at the facility, but before, when Vast Horizons had me…”
“Never again.” The growl in his voice sends another rush of goosebumps across my skin. It’s December, so the sky is clear and the air still warm, but I lean into him anyway. After so many months of watching the world from behind reinforced glass, I’m more than a little touch-starved, and Creed doesn’t hesitate to wrap me in his arms. “We won’t stop until they’re gone. The whole program, and every fucker who had a hand in it. I just wish I could take away those memories, too…”
“Not all of them,” I murmur, burying my nose in his chest, right over the messy mark of my attempted bonding. “Some of them I want to keep.”
The first time I met Creed, I was out of my head on rut hormones and looking to hammer my knot into the nearest available hole. I’d scented the soldier in him – that mix of musk and metal I’d been trying to escape ever since Vast Horizons broke my brain – but I’d also smelled something more tantalising. It was warm and woody, like a sun-dappled forest, or a cosy fire in a mountain cottage. Both things I’d experienced since escaping my nightmare of a mother, but never with someone I wanted to look at once the hangover wore off.
But now I chase a hint of something else, nosing into his chest like a hungry mole. “Why do you… smell like spicy chocolate?”
A rumble greets my ear, and I pull back to look into his face. Something flickers through their depths that looks a lot like nerves, although that would have to be a first. Creed could teach mountain ranges a thing or two about stoicism, and not a lot ever seems to ruffle him.
Except for the time I sank my teeth into his chest. I’m not sure if I was trying to chew out his heart, or capture it, but a coil of smug pleasure tightens my groin until he says, “We stopped at my mum’s. We drank hot chocolate, and I brought you a piece of her vanilla slice.”
“Your mum?” I’m not sure why I’m so surprised. Creed has an air of capability about him that’s probably dished out in nice homes like Vegemite sandwiches and pocket money. “And I thought you just sprang from the side of a mountain, full grown and fabulous.”
“Nope,” he says, drawing me down the beach, his boots leaving an impressive furrow in our wake. “I was raised by Sally Creed. She’s a retired schoolteacher. My dads were Kane, a nurse who passed from cancer when I was a kid, and Bill, who died in Afghanistan a few years ago. She still lives in their packhouse, although she’s got about a dozen reno projects going, none of which she’s about to finish in a hurry.”
“I’m sorry.” I stop and turn his face towards me, studying his features in the moonlight. “Losing your dads must have been horrible.”
“It was, but mum was pretty good at getting me through it.” He kisses my palm, then loops our hands together and keeps walking. The track to the house has disappeared in the gloom, and right now we could be the last two people on the planet, except for the fact that Creed has just had hot chocolate and pastries with his mum. “She still talks about them all the time, and we celebrate their birthdays and bonding anniversary.”
“Mmm.” It sounds nice, but it’s hard to picture, given that my mum never mated, and my father dropped his sperm and ran. “I guess it explains where you get your sweet side from.”
Maybe there’s a hint of envy in my voice, because he squeezes my hand tighter. “I was hoping you could meet her soon. I’d like you to know her before you take my bite.”
I digest that for a moment, then look at him curiously. “Is that why we’ve never found the right moment to finish it off? You want to get the parental stamp of approval?”
“No, I want her there at our bonding ceremony.” It’s his turn to stop, but instead of touching me, he drops to a knee in the damp sand. “This isn’t about finishing anything off, . I want to give you something that proves how much I care about you.”
I stare down at him, dumbstruck. “An imprint of your mouth?”
“No. Well, yeah.” He narrows his eyes at my sass, then pulls something out of his pocket. “But before that, I was hoping you’d wear my ring.”
He opens his big palm and I’m staring at a gold ring, like you’d get at graduation. I take it carefully and study the insignia. “The Army Nursing College?”
“Both of my dads were military, but Kane was a caregiver through and through.” His face softens at some memory, and he brushes his thumb over my knuckles. “He gave it to my mum before he died, and since I didn’t think you’d want my dog tags…”
“No.” I can’t quite suppress a shudder at the idea of wearing those around my neck, but the ring feels warm and comforting in my palm. I slide it on my thumb, admiring the fit. “Just as well I have manly hands.”
“Your hands are the perfect shape and size.”
Another pinch of pleasure tightens in my groin at his approval and I drop to my knees. “Shall we test that theory?”
I’m reaching to open his pants, but he grabs my wrist. “I didn’t just get down here for that.” I arch a brow at him, but he pulls me towards his mouth. That spicy chocolate scent tingles on my tongue, and I push forward for more, but he just chuckles and breaks the kiss. “I want to bond you, , but I want to do it the old-fashioned way.”
I pause, confused. “A bonding ceremony?”
“Yeah, here on the beach, if you don’t want anything too fancy.” He casts a glance out at the moonlit water. “Maybe not midnight, but I’d love to see you in a white suit with the moon glade at your back.”
I flush, but my usually snarky response fails me. “Could we… could we do it with Emily and Derek as well? Like a group bonding?”
“If you’re okay sharing the spotlight,” he smirks, pulling me in for another kiss, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
The next morning, we get a call from Derek’s old flatmate, inviting us to the Switcheroo Club. I’m a little confused by the invitation until I remember that it’s Dr. Finchley’s book club. Clark assures us it’s a good excuse for some of the switches on the project to get together and swap stories, but I’m not sure about joining a support group.
“Dr. Finchley said they don’t get much reading done, but the high teas are always good,” Emily reminds me as she tames her curls into a sweeping up-do. She’s sitting at the dressing table in our pack bedroom, and I’ve been kissing off her makeup as fast as she can apply it. “It could be fun, especially since it’s at the casino. We could even stop at a roulette table and try our luck. What do you think?”
“I think I’ve already won the jackpot,” I tell her, brushing my lips over my bonding mark and making her shiver. “But I could do with some outdoor fun, I s’pose.”
Her amber eyes gleam in the mirror as she gives me a coy smile. “The amount of sand you and Creed tracked into bed last night, I think you’re getting your quota.”
I spin her around, planning to suck the sassy right off her pink lips, but I find myself blurting out, “He wants to bond us. Officially, I mean. With the whole white suit ceremony and doves, or whatever.”
“Doves?”
“Well, seagulls, probably, since he suggested we do it out there on the beach…” I bite my lip, watching her eyes grow misty. “I said I wanted it, if you and Derek did. And Lang and Finn, obviously, but I’m pretty sure the three of them cooked this up together.”
She bites her lip, studying my face. “What do you think? Is that something you’d like to do?”
“I’d like to see you in a pretty white dress,” I admit, then rub my finger over her throat. She swallows, her eyelashes fluttering, and I breathe in her sweet perfume. She’s a beta now, but either we’ve rubbed off on her a little, or the pack bonds are changing her scent. “And I’d love to see you with a full necklace of mating marks.”
Her eyes dilate, but she stops me before I can steal a kiss. “And how do you feel about it? We could keep the ceremony private, but once we registered, people would know we’re an official pack. I wouldn’t want to put you in any danger.”
“What’s the alternative? Hide away here for the rest of my life?” I look around the luxurious room, breathing in the scent of pack. “It would make a pretty comfy jail cell, but I think I’m ready to get out there and experience life again.” I can’t resist tugging on a tiny curl that has escaped her elegant hairstyle. “Assuming I don’t switch back into a heinous monster during my next heat.”
“Well, you’ll be my monster,” she declares, rising on her toes to kiss my lips. “And that would still make me the luckiest mate in the world.”
Her confidence carries me all the way to the doors of the White Castle Casino. It’s right in the centre of the city, the only building on a peninsula of sculpted gardens and pedestrian trails that juts out into the river. Our driver drops us right at the door of the hotel area, and Creed slides out of the passenger seat, scowling at anyone who looks our way. I know he’s uptight about me being in public, but Clark assured us that we’d have plenty of privacy in the room they’ve booked. Maybe he’s just moody because the invite was only for switches and not their overprotective mates-to-be.
“I can show you up to the suite,” a beta in a neat grey suit offers as we enter the hotel lobby, his manager badge on proud display. I have to admit, it’s an impressive sight, with a soaring mezzanine, enormous chandelier, and crowds of beautifully dressed guests skimming over the polished marble floors. The manager turns to Creed with a polite smile. “Mr. Cliff and the other gentlemen are in the VIP gaming room, if you’d like to join them.”
Our alpha prickles all over like a disgruntled echidna. “I’ll stay with my packmates.”
Clark had already warned us that this would be the hardest part, and I sidle up to Creed, my hand curling around the lapel of his jacket. “It’s a book club. Do you really prefer that over poker and brandy?”
“I prefer to be where you are,” he says simply, and it’s an effort to step away from him, when what I really want to do is drag him into the nearest alcove. There are a few potted palms around here that could provide a bit of coverage if we choose carefully…
The manager must have been through this routine before, because he hands Creed a platinum swipe card. “This will give you access to the penthouse elevator, Mr. Creed, should you wish to join your mates at any time.”
“Penthouse?” Emily’s eyes shine as they meet mine. “That sounds fancy.”
Creed’s resistance melts like hot wax at the excitement on her face, but he insists on walking us over to the elevator and watching as the manager loads us inside. Once we’re alone, I give a small chuckle. “He’s a little overprotective at times.”
The manager doesn’t look the least offended. “The Lyall Pack is no different, I assure you. But you’ll find that they are very down-to-earth once you get to know them.”
I exchange another wide-eyed look with Emily. We’ve both heard of the Lyall Pack, of course, since they’re the kind of farmers who use helicopters to herd their sheep, and along with this casino, they own most of the five-star tourist resorts in the state. But I didn’t think we’d actually meet them.
“I should’ve worn a suit,” I mutter, pulling at the cuffs of my shirt. It’s a button-down, at least, but I’m wearing my favourite black jeans, while Emily looks like a dollop of honey in a gold sundress with strappy red heels.
“You look perfect,” she assures me, warmth kindling in her gaze. “In fact, if Creed’s in the mood, maybe we can even get a room later…?”
I’m tempted to push her up against the wall right here, but the manager has stepped through the elevator doors and is ushering us forward. I’ll admit, my mouth falls open as I take in more marble, another giant chandelier, and floor-to-ceiling windows that gaze out onto the glittering city. “Wow.”
“Welcome to the club!” Emily showed me a photo of Clark on her phone, so I recognise Derek’s friend when he strides our way. He’s wearing the kind of suit I’ve never seen out of a magazine, with one of those pocket hankies and a matching pink tie with gold dots, and I run my hands uneasily over my jeans. But he just gives me a friendly smile and draws us further into the room. “We’re so glad you could make it. This is Kat, my mate.”
The woman – a beta, but with the stance of an alpha – is vaguely familiar, and when Emily congratulates her on her last title fight, the pieces click into place. This is Katrina “Knockout” Nicks, the current welterweight champion. She’s also in jeans, but given her golden glow and superior muscle tone, she carries the look off with ease.
“Hey,” she says when she catches my eye. “Are you a scientist, too?”
I realise I’ve zoned out on the introductions and stick my hands in my pockets. “Student. Deferred. But I’m thinking I’ll go back and finish my environmental science degree.”
She gives me a respectful chin up, while Clark leads us further into the suite. He points out the nearest bathroom and the full kitchen, while I catch a glimpse of a sunken lounge and three other couples waiting, their necks craning in our direction. I recognise Dr. Finchley and a suave-looking older guy in a bowtie, but the others are strangers. “Fellow switches,” Clark says in a voice made for radio, “this is Emily and . They’re both scientists, and something tells me they’re going to be the brains of this outfit.”
“We’ll definitely need next month’s book to be something other than monster porn, then,” Kat mutters, steering me over towards a chair.
It’s one of those sleek lounge suites where you sink into cushions like butter into a hot crumpet, and I swipe a damp hand through my floppy hair. “Never really minded a good dragon knotting scene, to be honest.”
That gets a snort from Emily and raised brows from the guy sitting opposite. He’s dressed even more elegantly than Clark, with the kind of smooth, blond looks that make me think of English castles and hunting hounds. So, it’s not surprising when he says in a crisp accent, “I don’t mean to offend, but are you in a switch right now?”
The woman next to him – a beautiful beta with golden hair and sharp blue eyes – smacks his arm. “Really, Griff? Let them grab a cocktail before you start pumping them for information.” She leans over and shakes Emily’s hand, nodding across the coffee table at me. “I’m Maddie, and your interrogator this evening is my mate, Griffin.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Emily replies, looking around with big eyes. “It’s a pretty fancy venue. Do you always hire out the penthouse suite for your book club?”
“That would be our fault,” the alpha female at the other end of the couch says, flashing her dark-haired mate a grin. “We’re the Lyalls. Lexi and Jack. We’d pick somewhere a little more low-key, but this is easier than carting around all our combined security teams, right?”
“Oh, that’s embarrassing,” Emily murmurs. “What I meant to say is we feel very lucky to be here, and you’re right, this place would definitely get our pack’s tick of approval.”
“We could always relocate to the college library for one of our catch ups,” Dr. Finchley says with a smile in Em’s direction. “No cocktails, but Professor Fall tells me the cafeteria crumpets are as delicious as ever.”
If Emily was flushed before, she’s wearing a rosy glow now, but to my surprise, it’s our hostess who chokes on her frothy pink cocktail. “Yeah, that library has a lot going for it,” Jack drawls with a cheeky glance in his spluttering mate’s direction. “Lexi and I have had lots of fruitful research sessions there.”
I’m pretty sure she pinches her mate as soon as she recovers, but a pair of servers sweep into the room with trays of drinks and plates of pastries, and everyone’s distracted while they pass them around. Emily and I put in our order for mojitos, and then I tune into a conversation about switches. They’ve all just read Dr. Finchley’s article on the Soulmate Phenomenon, and after a bit of debate, the sleek blonde beta turns towards Em and me. “What do you think? Soulmates is a little woo-woo, right?” She gives Dr. Finchley a fond smile, but I can see the scepticism in her sharp, blue eyes. “I mean, we all want to believe it’s true, but it must be hard for you to rationalise as scientists.”
“I suppose it should be hard,” Emily says slowly, then leans over to grasp my hand. “The variable I didn’t expect, though, is . If anyone can provide me with empirical evidence of a destined love, it’s him.”
“Damn, I’m convinced,” Jack says, tipping his glass in his mate’s direction. From the heated look she gives him, I wonder if our hostess is about to finish the party early, but she just kisses his cheek, and the conversation turns to a scene in the book they all read. I try to follow along, but I feel overheated in my jeans, and I’m distracted by the blond omega with the English accent. He keeps looking at me over the rim of his espresso martini, and from the way he’s making me squirm, I’m guessing Griffin works in either corporate takeovers or hostage negotiations.
“I don’t mean to pry, ,” he says when there’s another lull in the conversation, “but I can’t pin down your scent. It’s mostly alpha, but there’s a sweetness I can’t place.”
“It’s a little complicated,” Emily interjects, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ve just come out of my first heat a week ago, and we’re both still trying to settle back into our regular designations.”
It’s the cover story we agreed on before we left, but I can see the interest on the faces around us. I try to think of a way to placate them, when Emily gives a squeal that makes me jump in my seat.
“Oh my God!” she gasps, staring at the laptop on the coffee table in giddy shock. “Is that who I think it is?”