Chapter 30 Rose
Rose
There’s a lot of tittering and foot-kicking when I explain to the girls the same thing I told the pack about Kai being my scent-sensitive match—the scent that awakened my omega. Their faces go from shocked to horrified when I tell them about the aftermath and everything I’m dealing with now.
I’ve resolved never to keep important things from them again. These women are my friends. The kind you build your life around. They’re as important to me as any family I’ve ever had. Maybe more. I want them to know me—all of me.
“So you’re definitely scent-matched to the whole pack, right?” Clara asks.
My heart leaps into my throat. “I don’t… I don’t know. I didn’t even realize Kai was my scent-sensitive match until the doctor spelled it out for me. I thought it was just bad timing—my omega emerging right as I approached him. I didn’t realize he was the reason.”
Thinking back on that night is a horrible mix of longing and fear. I wish I hadn’t turned away. I wish I’d run to Kai. But I can’t take that back now.
“Does it even really matter?” I ask, regret sinking in deeper. “Because I took that drug, my scent may never return. I may never be able to scent them. That’s not… that’s not a real scent-sensitive match.”
“What? Yes it is!” Sunny exclaims, squeezing my hand like she can anchor me with pure force of will.
“Scent sensitivity is about way more than just scents. Sure, the smell helps—to keep you from accidentally passing your mates in the cereal aisle—but that’s not the point.
If they’re yours, they’re yours. You’re made for each other. Full stop.”
I still feel skeptical, but don't say anything. It’s not worth arguing with Sunny when she’s in stubborn mode.
“I guess,” I murmur. Thinking about the alphas makes me feel like there’s a blizzard roaring through my chest—equal parts frostbite and fire.
“I know,” Cali says firmly, not missing a beat.
“Sunny’s right. Scent isn’t even the biggest part of what makes a scent-sensitive pairing.
You’ll see.” She says it with such certainty, I want to believe her.
I do. But I can’t help thinking about how it was for them—Sunny, Cali, and Clara.
The way they described that moment they met their mates.
The instant connection. The deep knowing. I want that too.
“It’s okay,” Winnie says softly. “Just give it time.”
We drift into safer waters—Cali’s new kids’ program at the library, Clara’s new book (her first traditionally published!), and her plans to go on a cruise with her alphas after Christmas.
“What about Finian?” Sunny asks the question we’re all thinking.
“As long as I’m there, he can be too,” Clara says. “Since the bond, he’s been able to go wherever I go, though he still prefers the house.”
I glance around the table uneasily. If Clara’s noncorporeal alpha followed her to Sunny’s house, would we even know? I shake it off.
Winnie tells us about her new Christmas window display and then Sunny launches into her plans for this year’s holiday bash.
Clara may rule Halloween, but Sunny is the undisputed queen of Christmas.
Her grandmother used to host the biggest party in town, and Sunny’s proudly continued the tradition.
Pretty much everyone in Lakeside Point shows up.
“I’ve already ordered the tree and two honey-roasted hams,” she preens, then narrows her eyes at me. “And this year, there’s no wriggling out. One of your alphas is my mate’s brother.”
My heart sinks. Two years ago I was new in town, so I didn’t take the invite seriously.
Last year, I begged off, claiming I didn’t want to make anyone sick.
I spent the evening curled up with hot chocolate and some good books.
But she’s right. With Logan in the picture, I can’t make him miss Christmas with his brother—especially when things between them are still so fragile.
I glance out the window. Sunny’s alphas are barbecuing as expected.
Cali and Clara’s are out there too. I spot Logan’s white-blond hair at the edge of the group, talking quietly with Cole.
The sight punches something in my chest. I want to go out there and support him, but I don’t want to interrupt either.
The girls follow my gaze.
“All right, let’s wrap this up and put Rose out of her misery,” Clara teases. “Besides, this is the longest I’ve ever seen you without your phone.”
I jolt. But they don’t notice. They’re already diving into a debate about the mystery book Cali picked out.
And Clara’s right. I didn’t even think about checking my phone the whole time I’ve been here.
Normally I’m glued to it—watching for texts from my brother, or doom-scrolling for any sign that my family or the Blackbear Pack is still looking for me.
But since the Sterling Pack moved in, I haven’t needed to. Not really.
Tonight, it didn’t even cross my mind.
Maybe I just don’t need to anymore.
…Maybe.
The alphas are just taking the meat off the grill when a car comes rumbling up the driveway.
A big Suburban. All the alphas tense. They’d been warned about reporters sniffing around, and my friends already filled them in on the mess that is my family.
Nearly a dozen alphas form an instinctive wall between the incoming car and the Omega Book Club.
Logan pulls me behind him, his shoulders squared as he glares at the vehicle’s dark tinted windows. But when it rolls to a stop and the doors pop open, I let out a sigh of relief.
Harlan steps out from the driver’s side, wearing a sharp black suit and a warm looking chic winter jacket. The other alphas follow, dressed similarly. They must’ve come straight from their meeting.
My omega practically somersaults inside me. I have the sudden, completely irrational urge to run to one of them like I’m in some cheesy movie.
Kai catches my eye and grins wide and well, fuck it.
I duck around Logan and jog toward him, slipping right through the solid wall of alphas.
Kai’s smile brightens, his arms thrown wide just in time to catch me as I launch into him. He wraps me up in his warmth and my omega purrs with satisfaction.
Still, I feel restless. Jittery. It’s not anxiety exactly, more like ache. I try to tamp it down, but I keep thinking about the pack bed. About all of us tangled together. About their hands and bodies and heat.
The doctor warned me this would happen. Said touch deprivation can crawl under your skin and dig in deep. My omega’s starving for closeness.
“Hey,” Kai murmurs, eyes crinkling. “You having a good time, Rosie?”
The nickname sizzles straight through me. His sharp smile makes my whole chest ache.
“Yeah,” I say, gesturing toward the food. “You’re just in time.”
“No running hugs for the rest of us?” Evander calls, faux-offended. He’s the only one not in black. His plum jacket pops against his gray shirt and slacks, and his purple glasses and wild hair complete the look.
I grin and let go of Kai just long enough to throw myself into Evander’s arms. He lifts me effortlessly, feet dangling off the ground.
“There’s my Candy,” he murmurs, and the possessive lilt in his voice makes my toes curl.
When he sets me down and moves toward the grill, I turn and find Wyatt waiting.
He hasn’t moved. Just leaning against the new car, steady eyes watching me beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. Quiet, unreadable.
Until his hand circles my waist and pulls me toward him. His other hand cups the back of my neck, strong fingers massaging slow, grounding circles into my spine.
I melt. The soothing rhythm sends a wave of relief and pleasure up through my whole body, like something in me finally stops clenching.
It takes me a moment to realize this is one of the touch techniques from the sheet the doctor gave me. I look up sharply.
“You read the sheet?” I ask.
His mouth tugs into a lopsided smile. “Figured I could return the favor—for helping with my leg.”
I smile back, but it feels a little too polite. I don’t want to be some kind of charity case. Or caught in a tit-for-tat exchange.
He must see something in my expression, because the hand on my hip pulls me a little closer. Our bodies flush now, chest to chest. Heat simmering between us.
“Although,” he adds, voice low and slow, “I guess it’s not really fair. I’d touch you any day for any reason.”
A shiver runs down my spine.
Wyatt’s gaze is steady on my face. And for once, I stop thinking. I just move—rising onto my toes and brushing my lips over his.
The hand on my neck stills. The one on my hip flexes. For one agonizing second, he doesn’t respond.
Then—his hand tangles in my curls, tilting my head back just enough. His arm wraps tight around my waist, hauling me flush against the solid length of him.
And then he kisses me.
Deep. Consuming. Tongue sweeping into my mouth like he’s starved for it. My hands clutch at his shoulders. His body presses into mine, hard and hot, and I can feel the thick ridge of his cock against my stomach.
A moan slips between our mouths—his or mine, I can’t tell.
All I know is that when we finally pull apart, I’m flushed and breathless. He looks just a heartbeat from destroyed, his eyes dragging over every inch of me like he’s memorizing it.
“Your friends are waitin’, Sugarplum,” he husks out.
I'm still stunned.
He slings an arm over my shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, guiding us back toward the others.
But my heart? My heart’s still lodged somewhere in my throat.