Chapter 29 – JUNIPER
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
JUNIPER
M oving day.
The words bounce around my skull like pinballs while I watch these alphas bustle around with boxes and tactical gear like we're evacuating from a war zone instead of relocating to what Carlisle keeps calling "more suitable accommodations." Whatever the fuck that means in rich psychopath speak.
Felix sits beside me on the couch, pretending to read but really observing every movement, every exit, every potential weapon. I can tell by the way his fingers tap against his thigh—three short, three long, three short. S.O.S. in Morse code. Our little inside joke that's not really a joke.
"Right," Bane announces, clapping his massive hands together like he's about to brief us on invading a small country. "Here's how this is going to work."
"Let me guess," I interrupt, because his serious face makes me want to poke at him like a bear in a zoo. "We're getting stuffed in the trunk like good little hostages?"
Carlisle's laugh cuts through the room, sharp and delighted. "Oh little hellcat, we'd never put you in the trunk. That's where we keep the bodies."
"Carlisle." Elias's warning tone suggests this isn't the first time they've had this conversation.
"What? I'm joking." Carlisle examines his nails with studied innocence. "Mostly."
Bane looks like he's developing an ulcer in real time. "As I was saying, for security reasons, you'll need to be blindfolded during certain points of transport."
I gasp, pressing my hand to my chest in mock horror. "Blindfolded? What, you don't trust us?" I turn the full force of my puppy dog eyes on them, the ones that used to get Felix to buy me ice cream even when we were broke. My bottom lip trembles just a little.
Archer actually takes a step back, his face cycling through about twelve different emotions. Bane's scarred jaw works like he's chewing glass.
The silence stretches for about three seconds before I burst into cackles, doubling over with the force of my laughter. "Holy shit, your faces! You'd think I just asked you to donate a kidney!"
"She's joking," Felix says flatly, not looking up from his book. "She does that."
"Frequently," I add, wiping tears from my eyes. "You're all so fucking easy to mess with. Big bad alphas afraid of hurting the poor little omega's feelings like I wouldn't have killed you all in cold blood a week ago."
"You did try," Elias says flatly.
"You're a menace," Bane mutters, but there's something that might be fondness lurking beneath the exasperation.
"The blindfolds are non-negotiable," Elias says, ever the practical one. "It's for everyone's protection, including yours."
"Kinky." I waggle my eyebrows at him, just to watch him flush. "Is this where you tell me you've got a whole dungeon set up at the new place?"
"Juniper." Felix's voice carries that particular note of 'please stop traumatizing the alphas,' but I can see him fighting a smile.
Twenty minutes later, we're walking across the tarmac toward a plane that looks like it costs more than this entire compound. The blindfolds dangle from Carlisle's fingers like promises of either adventure or murder. Possibly both.
"Who wants to go first?" he asks, twirling them with unnecessary flair.
"Me!" I bounce forward before Felix can protest. "Make it tight. I want the full hostage experience."
Carlisle's grin turns predatory as he moves behind me. His fingers brush my hair aside, unnecessarily gentle, and I feel the silk slide across my eyes. The world goes dark, but not scary dark. More like expensive hotel blackout curtains dark.
"How's that?" His breath ghosts across my ear, and I suppress a shiver that has nothing to do with fear.
"Perfect. Very kidnappy. Ten out of ten, would be abducted again."
Someone—Archer from the sunshine scent—takes my elbow to guide me. "Steps coming up."
"If I trip and die, I'm haunting all of you," I announce cheerfully. "I'll move your shit around and make weird noises at three AM."
"You already make weird noises at three AM," Felix points out from somewhere behind me.
"Those are the shadows, not me."
The plane interior smells like leather and money and that particular alpha cocktail that's becoming dangerously familiar. Someone guides me to a seat, and I hear Felix settling beside me.
"Blindfolds stay on until we're at cruising altitude," Bane's voice rumbles from somewhere up front.
"What if I peek?" I ask, already tempted.
"Then Carlisle gets to throw you out of the plane," Bane responds without missing a beat.
"Don't threaten me with a good time."
The engines roar to life, and we're moving, taxiing down the runway with the kind of smooth acceleration that suggests Archer actually knows what he's doing up there. The takeoff presses me back into my seat, and I can't help the little whoop of excitement that escapes.
I cling to Felix's arm, leaning in as I listen to the alphas discussing their boring paramilitary shit in the background. "Isn't this fun?"
"You've always had a funny definition of the word," he says in his usual bone dry tone.
"You're just jealous of my infectious optimism," I say, groping his face until I find his mouth and push one corner upward with my finger. "See? Infectious."
"I'm going to let them tranquilize you."
I snicker, nuzzling into his side. Aside from the fact that we're climbing thousands of feet into the air and our lives are in the hands of a pilot who might not even be licensed for all I know, it's kind of relaxing.
"You can remove the blindfolds now," Archer calls back once we finally level out.
I yank mine off immediately, blinking in the sudden light. The plane's interior is exactly as bougie as I expected—cream leather, polished wood, and probably a fully stocked bar somewhere.
"I'm going to explore," I announce, already unbuckling.
"Juniper—" Felix starts, but I'm already moving toward the cockpit.
"Can I look around?" I ask Archer, peeking in past the partition, my hair brushing his shoulder where he sits looking very official and piloty. Archer glances back with those warm brown eyes that still carry too much hope for someone in his line of work.
"Sure, just don't touch?—"
I'm already sliding into his lap before he can finish, settling myself sideways so I can see all the instruments. "What's this button do?" I ask, pointing at a big red one.
His entire body goes rigid. "That's—that's the autopilot indicator."
"And this?" I point to another dial, very aware that my ass is pressed against what's definitely not a joystick in his pants.
"Altitude gauge." His voice cracks slightly.
"And this?" I lean forward, deliberately pressing closer.
"Fuel gauge. Juniper, you really shouldn't?—"
"The plane better not fucking crash!" Bane bellows from the cabin.
I throw my head back and laugh, delighted by how easy it is to reduce these supposedly dangerous alphas to stuttering messes. "Relax, Daddy Bear, I'm not actually touching anything. Just looking."
I can't see him, but somehow, I can tell the massive alpha is blushing red as a tomato at that little term of endearment. The silence confirms it.
"You're sitting on me," Archer points out, his hands carefully placed on the controls like he doesn't know where else to put them.
"Your lap was the only seat available." I shift slightly, and he makes a strangled sound. "So how'd you learn to fly?"
He seems grateful for the change of subject, even if my position doesn't change. "Military. Eight years in the Air Force."
"Ooh, a flyboy. Did you have one of those cool call signs?" I ask, my fingers weaving into his hair. The little shudder he probably thinks he hid makes my lips twitch.
"Viper."
"Ohh, right. Sexy. I see why you kept it. So, why'd you leave?"
His hands tighten imperceptibly on the controls. "It's... complicated."
"I've got time." I trace a finger along the edge of the control panel, not quite touching anything important. But he doesn't know I know what to avoid, and that's what makes it fun. "We've got, what, six hours to kill?"
"Five and a half." He's quiet for a moment, then says, "I almost killed someone."
That gets my attention. I turn to look at him properly, studying his profile. He's handsome. They all are, but there's something very boy next door about Archer's good looks that makes him fun to fluster. "Almost?"
"Superior officer. He was..." Archer's jaw clenches. "He was abusing subordinates. Using his rank to... to hurt people who couldn't fight back. I snapped. Beat him within an inch of his life. They gave me a medical discharge. PTSD, they called it."
"Huh." I tilt my head, reassessing him. "Didn't know you had it in you, soldier boy."
He gives me a strained smile. "I don't like bullies."
"Good." I grin, wicked and sharp. "Neither do I. We should compare notes sometime. I bet your technique could use some work."
He makes a sound that might be a laugh or might be him choking on his own tongue.
"Can I fly for a bit?" I ask, reaching for the controls.
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Felix and Bane roar in unison from the cabin.
I cackle, sliding off Archer's lap with deliberately slow movements. He looks like he's been through a wind tunnel, sandy brown hair all mussed up, pupils blown, breathing slightly uneven.
"Maybe next time, soldier boy," I purr, trailing a finger along his shoulder as I head back to the cabin.
Felix gives me a look that says he knows exactly what I was doing. I blow him a kiss and flop into my seat.
"You're going to give them all heart attacks," he observes.
"And we'll finish the job yet," I quip.
The rest of the flight passes with me alternating between napping on Felix's shoulder and making increasingly inappropriate comments just to see who breaks first. Carlisle wins by virtue of having no shame whatsoever, matching me innuendo for innuendo until even I'm a little impressed.
And turned on. But if I join the mile high club, it's going to be under slightly less nerve-wracking circumstances.
"Landing in five," Archer announces, and Carlisle produces the blindfolds again.
"Round two," he says, moving toward me with intent.
"Be gentle," I tease. "It's my second time."
His fingers are definitely lingering as he ties the silk, maybe tracing the shell of my ear, maybe not. It's hard to tell and that ambiguity is delicious.
"Too tight?" he murmurs.
"Not yet."
His breath hitches and a wicked grin spreads across my face.
The landing is smooth as butter, Archer showing off or just that good. The plane rolls to a stop, and I hear doors opening, feel cool mountain air rush in.
"May I?" A deep voice—Bane—asks.
Before I can respond, massive arms scoop me up like I weigh nothing. I squeak in surprise, automatically wrapping my arms around his neck.
"I can walk!"
"I know." His voice rumbles through his chest, and fuck if being carried like this isn't doing things to my omega instincts I'd rather not examine.
He sets me down gently, and hands—Elias from the medical soap smell—untie my blindfold.
"Holy. Fucking. Shit."
The house—no, mansion—no, fucking CASTLE sprawls across the mountainside like something out of a magazine for people with too much money and excellent taste.
It's made of glass and natural wood and stone, designed to look like it grew out of the mountain itself.
The setting sun paints everything gold, and this place probably wouldn't cost more if it was literally made out of the stuff.
"Why weren't we in this one before?" I breathe, still staring.
Carlisle chuckles behind me. "It needed some finishing touches. Security systems, panic room, the usual."
"Panic room?" I spin to look at him. "We get a panic room?"
"Everyone gets a panic room in this economy," he says with a perfectly straight face.
"I've always wanted to fuck in a panic room," I muse, savoring the way his face goes blank. Judging from the way the others are laughing, that's rare.
I'm already running toward the entrance before anyone can stop me, through doors that are probably made out of platinum, into an interior that makes me want to weep.
The front room has ceilings that go up forever, a fireplace big enough to roast a whole cow, and windows that frame the mountains like living paintings.
"Dibs on the master!" I yell, already racing up the floating staircase.
"There are five masters," Archer calls after me.
"Then I call dibs on the best one!"
The first room I find has a bed that could sleep eight people and a bathroom with a tub that makes the one at the compound look like a puddle. The second has a private balcony and a closet bigger than most apartments.
The third makes me stop dead.
It's perfect. Not the biggest, not the fanciest, but something about it calls to me. Maybe it's the reading nook built into the bay window. Maybe it's the way the afternoon light turns everything soft and golden. Maybe it's the fact that it connects to another bedroom through a shared bathroom.
I throw myself onto the bed, bouncing with pure joy. The mattress is even better than the one at the compound, if that's possible.
"Felix, I found our rooms!"
He appears in the doorway, taking in my sprawled form with fond exasperation. "Our rooms? Plural?"
"They connect." I point to the bathroom door. "You can have your own space when you want to sulk."
His eyes glimmer with equal parts irritation and amusement. "Practical."
Elias appears behind Felix, looking around with that analytical gaze. "Does she always have this much energy after a six-hour flight?"
"You have no idea," Felix says dryly. "This is her calm."
I'm already up and exploring again, opening drawers, checking closets, cataloging everything. The closet has built-in organizers that make my fingers itch to fill them. The bathroom has a shower with multiple heads and a bench that basically makes it a sauna.
I find myself in the walk-in closet again, running my hands over the smooth wood, imagining how soft blankets would look draped over the built-in bench. Some pillows from the bed, maybe those throws I saw downstairs, and it would make a perfect little?—
Nest .
The word slams into me like a truck in a fucking portal fantasy.
I'm thinking about nesting. Here. In their space.
"Fuck," I whisper, snatching my hand back like the wood burned me.
"You okay?" Felix's voice drifts from the bedroom.
"Fine!" I call back, too bright, too fast. "Just plotting where to hide weapons!"
I force myself to walk out of the closet, to stop touching things, to stop imagining how comfortable and safe it would be to build a little sanctuary in this beautiful prison.
Because that's what this is, no matter how pretty. A prison. A cage.
Even if it's starting to feel like something else entirely.