Chapter 40
It’s midnight when I’m woken by a sniffling, whining Omega trying to bury her way beneath my arm. Seeing her like this hurts. The tears on her face and the pain in our bond.
“Come here, brat,” I whisper, pulling her into my arms. I carry her into the outer room of her nest, hoping the darkened sky will be enough to keep her calm.
Sliding to my knees, I slowly shift until I’m lying down with Bea’s knees on either side of my head. Her palms brace against the windows, eyes locked on my face as she hovers above me.
“Sit,” I command, gripping her thighs and spreading her legs wider so she has no choice but to settle her sweet pussy on my tongue.
My eyes glue to hers as I lick her in slow, exploring stripes. The honeyed flavor of her slick explodes across my tongue. Fuck, she tastes amazing. Sweet, citrusy, with a tart undertone.
Groans rattle through the small room as she grinds against my tongue, using me to get herself off.
I grip her thighs tight enough to bruise, loving the thought of her waking with my marks on her body.
My nose bumps her clit as she rocks, tongue spearing deep into her core.
Slick pours down through the stubble covering my chin and jaw as she gets closer to release.
One hand slaps down on her ass, three swats in rapid succession, before I soothe the tender skin. The pain adds to her pleasure, darkening her flavor in the most delightful way.
I slip two fingers beneath her thigh and spear them into her core at the same moment I suck her clit, hard. Bea screams, trembling and jerking her hips as she falls apart.
Urgency pounds through my body, louder than the beat of my heart. Flipping my mate onto her back, I slam my length inside of her. It’s savage. Primal. Perfect.
Her hands wrap around my neck, fingers digging into my skin as she drags me down to kiss her.
I absorb her sounds of pleasure, letting the vibration of each one act as fuel feeding the fire of my desire.
Thought turns hazy, not quite a rut, more like letting go.
Like accepting that this is my Omega and I am her Alpha.
It’s as freeing as it is terrifying.
My head is clear when my tongue finds her neck. The same spot I tried to mark earlier. Taking this step sends fear skittering up my spine, but I recognize it for what it is: residual trauma. I know Bea won’t hurt me. Just as I know I would never hurt her.
Breaking her skin is easy. Fate twists the strands of our souls together. Hers a soft pink that hugs the dark gray of mine, wrapping my soul in a warm embrace that I can feel all the way to my toes.
A tear slips down my cheek as her teeth latch onto the front of my throat, where the world will see her mark on my body. Our connection strengthens. So bright it’s blinding, before it settles into an ethereal, starry glow.
I kiss her again. Slow and full of all the emotions I know I cannot put into words. Then I knot her. Locking us together and sating the rest of her heat-driven need.
Lying beneath the night sky with my mate in my arms, I feel settled. Secure and safe in a way I haven’t been since my mother was alive.
Bonding Bea won’t be a cure-all for my trauma. It doesn’t erase the hurt from my past or the way I react to it, but sensing her in my heart builds a foundation for me to stand on. A starting point to healing.
My brat is the best gift Fate could have ever given me, and I’m going to spend the rest of our lives making sure she knows it.
It turns out Shiloh was right, and Bea’s heat broke a mere hour after I bonded her. Not that I will admit that out loud. His knowing smirk this morning was enough to deal with.
Bea is curled in the couch’s corner, devouring her third helping of the curry and rice Orion threw together while we cleaned up the nest. Heats take a lot out of all of us. Despite our best efforts, her body didn’t get nearly the amount of calories it spent over the past week.
“So fucking good,” she groans, glancing at Orion with hearts in her eyes. My Omega loves food. Having an Alpha who can cook is a real turn-on for her. Not that we will do anything about the small pulse of arousal we feel in her bond. Our mate needs a break. And quality sleep.
“So, what’s going on with you two?” She points between me and Ridley, bringing up a topic I was hoping to avoid.
For now, anyway. The bond mark I left on Ridley’s arm can’t be unattended forever. We’ve seen the consequences of that, and I would never put the asshole through it.
“We became best friends.”
I glare at Ridley, and Bea questions his statement, believing we were already best friends. Maybe we are. He and Creed have been the closest people in my life since I met each of them. It’s just weird to hear him say it out loud.
“The bond between us doesn’t have to mean anything more than that. Sure, we’ll feel each other’s emotions more clearly than we feel the rest of our pack, excluding you, but I don’t see that as a bad thing. Maybe it will help make this asshole less grumpy sometimes.”
Bea snorts, head shaking. She clearly doesn’t believe that will happen. It is much more likely Ridley will annoy the hell out of me and make me even grumpier.
“To draw us away from this… endearing topic, I have something to discuss with everyone. Before we pile into bed to sleep for a day.” Shiloh stands from his seat across the room and moves to perch on the coffee table.
When he’s sure he has all of our attention, he continues. “I would like everyone to take my pack name. Hyphenated, if that is your preference. My name carries weight in New York. Along most of the East Coast, actually. It can give you some protection that your names may not carry.”
I shrug when he glances at me. Keeping my dickhead father’s pack name is not a priority to me.
The thought of escaping his legacy actually sounds great.
The only one of us who may not agree is Creed.
His parents legacy has always been important to him.
During our time in the military, he spoke of them often and reverently.
Turning my head, I catch the conflicted scowl on his face. “I guess that’s fine, but I’ll be hyphenating Acherley-Barrett. My family name is important to me.”
Shiloh folds his hands and nods when everyone agrees.
“Good. I will settle the paperwork this week, and we can create a pack account to draw from after it has been finalized. I will also add each of your names to the deed for the penthouse. Now, if the four of you don’t mind cleaning up from dinner, I’m taking our Omega to soak in the bath. ”
Bea is much more relaxed when she crawls into the pack bed an hour later. Her eyes heavy with sleep. She gives me a crooked smile as she collapses beside me, hand reaching out to twine with mine when Creed wraps his gigantic body around hers.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “With what happened during my heat?”
“You mean accidentally bonding Ridley?”
Her snort blows a wayward curl away from her face. “No. I know you aren’t happy about that. I mean, bonding with me.”
Hesitant eyes roam over my face. Waiting. Searching for any hint that I regret binding my soul to hers.
Scooting closer, I press my forehead to hers and clasp her hand against my chest. “I could never regret you, Bea Powell. Fate couldn’t have picked a better Omega for me.”
“For all of us,” Creed adds.
“I’m glad you did it,” she admits. “I enjoy feeling you here.” One finger taps against the skin over my heart, a shy smile stretching over her face. My lips press to hers, pouring all my love into her mouth.
“Can’t promise I won’t be an asshole, but I’m in this forever. I’m yours, and you, my little brat, are mine.”
Bea hums. Eyes fluttering shut as her body relaxes. Sleep claims her before the rest of her mates have settled for the night. My beautiful, worn-out Omega.
A phone ringing wakes me as dawn crawls over the horizon. Shit, did we really sleep for eighteen hours?
Turning to my left, I see Bea has migrated across the bed to curl up between Orion and Ridley. Her slack jaw and messy hair make me smile. She’s so beautiful like this. Relaxed and at peace. Content.
Creed shifts down the bed and swipes the phone from the dresser, pressing it to his ear as he leaves the room. I stretch my arms, enjoying the burn in my limbs from a week of debauched sex with my mate, then follow him. Bea will want coffee when she wakes up.
“Yeah, thanks, Mr. Devore. I’ll head your way soon to check it out.”
I catch the last of Creed’s conversation as I make my way into the kitchen. His brows are furrowed, lips turned down as he stares out at the city.
“Everything good?”
His head slowly turns to the side to look at me, frown deepening. “I don’t know. That was the Devores. The family who took me in after my parents passed. Someone left a letter addressed to me on their porch.”
A sense of wrongness has an alarm blaring to life in my mind. If someone wanted to reach Creed, why would they hand-deliver a letter to an address he hasn’t called his own in over ten years?
“I’m going with you,” I tell him, setting aside the mug I was going to brew Bea’s coffee in. One of her other mates will have to take care of this task for her. My instincts are telling me not to let Creed go to his hometown alone.
Shiloh is awake when we poke our heads into Bea’s bedroom twenty minutes later. Our mate is still passed out, so we leave him a message to relay about our departure.
Leaving when her heat just ended, and we recently bonded, is difficult. My heart aches, and my skin crawls with the need to get back to her. Creed must feel the same, because his foot is pressed to the floor as soon as we hit the highway.
Three and a half hours later, we pull up to a quaint, white-sided family home. Lights decorate the roof, matching the blow-up holiday decor on the lawn.
I follow Creed to the front door, waiting on the steps while he knocks. An older Beta man answers, beaming when he sees who is outside.
“Creed! Come on in! It’s nice to see you!”
“Mr. Devore, this is my pack mate Lex Ferguson.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Lex. Would you boys like anything to drink?”
We both decline, letting him lead us to his dining room. He pads over to a buffet table he’s using for storage and returns with an envelope in his hands. “Here you go.” He passes it to Creed, who immediately flips it over and opens it.
We both watch as Creed’s face tightens with anger. Faintly through my bond with Bea, I can feel his rising aggression and pain. He shuts his bond down quickly, likely to spare our mate from worrying over his emotions.
“Thank you, Mr. Devore. I would love to stay to visit, but-”
The older man waves us off. “Go. Seems you have things to take care of. Come back soon, though. And bring your mate. Penelope would love to meet her.”
With a quick hug, Creed storms back to the car. He tosses the letter onto my lap as he shifts into gear and drives us out of the neighborhood. Scanning its contents, fury boils through me.
You can hide your pretty flower behind steel walls
But she isn’t the only way to hurt you.
I’ve had my eye on the clean-up efforts in Alabama.
There’s this little Beta who looks just like your flower.
It would be a shame if something happened to her.
Fucking hell. Marcus is targeting Bea’s parents.