Chapter 26 #2
“The suppressors weren’t very subtle at the start.
Taking them was sort of like hitting my alpha over the head with a sledgehammer, or that’s how I recall it.
” My alpha agrees, sending remembered agony throughout my body to the point I dig my fingers into the palm of my free hand and clutch at hers until she squeaks. I let go with a wince. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she says, but she’s massaging her hand—so it isn’t.
“My alpha mostly slept, only perking up now and then, usually for good reasons. The medication I take now is gentler, more like him being awake but in an almost-perpetual calm state, but he still remembers the hard hit of those early days.” Turning my other hand over.
I hiss at the crescent marks in my palm.
“You’ve lived half-sleeping? I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known. Not that I could’ve done anything, but maybe I wouldn’t have been ...” She twists back to my side and slips an arm around my waist. Leans into me, making it practically a hug.
“Better that than risk attacking someone because they smelled good.” I slip my arm around her and rest my head against the top of hers. Every whiff of cranberry sends rivulets of peace through me.
“There was no middle ground?” She doesn’t pull away despite the reminder of my sin against Max.
“Not that I could see, and none that my doctors offered.” I’d worry that being around her will waken my alpha too much despite the daily dose, but he’s calm at the moment.
He enjoys being closer to her, having her scent fill him.
“Once I was back in mostly beta circles, it was easier to stay there. It’s what I knew growing up.
Lots of betas don’t recognize alpha musk when they smell it, and there are plenty of tall, muscular betas, so no one ever asked uncomfortable questions even if they suspected what I was.
“Besides”—I shift to look down at her, trying to inject a note of humor—“if you believe half the stories circulating on social media, you’d think alphas are all billionaire CEOs or fire fighters or police or secret assassins. No one ever looks for us in the ranks of dry, dusty accountants.”
She laughs, a light trill that delights my alpha and me. “Yeah, I’ve run headlong into some of those stereotypes, myself.”
“But we’ve gotten off track—can I at least feed you as I explain why I’m here?” I wave at the picnic basket resting within hands’ reach.
“You planned to take me on a picnic?”
We both glance at the window. Despite the view being partially blocked by the desk, it’s clear that gray clouds loom in the distance.
“It looked to be nicer when I checked the forecast yesterday, but it’s just sandwiches and salad bites and that fizzy fruity thing you used to like to drink so much.
” I lift the top so she can get a glimpse.
“Plus, Nathan and I promised Corin we’d feed you when we had our one-on-one time, or at least try to tempt you with food you like.
He said he’s not sure you’ve been eating enough lately to keep an elephant alive, much less a bird. ”
Another attempt at humor—elephants eat so much less of their weight than birds do—but this one falls flat. I’m not sure she even heard.
She glances back and forth between basket and desk. “I suppose we can spread it out on the desk.”
A good look at the surface in question, and my alpha barks an instant, insistent no.
I stand and frown at it, shifting my weight back and forth.
Sitting opposite her isn’t a good idea. My alpha wants to be close enough to touch; he doesn’t have to be touching her all the time, but he doesn’t want her as far away as across the desk.
“Can we sit on the same side?”
Her scent shifts, an edge creeping back in.
I rush to explain. “My alpha wants to be within reach of you. That, or I can take a supplemental pill. I don’t want to, since my alpha’s and my interests currently mostly align.
I understand and accept the need for the patch, the daily dosing, and so does he—some of the time—now that it’s more subtle.
It settles him and gives me the sense of having solid ground under my feet rather than being blown at whim, pulled by instincts I can’t control and don’t always understand or welcome.
Feeling like a stranger in my own body.”
The sudden sour tang flaring from her makes me start.
“Stranger in your own body?” she whispers, face drained of color.
Only then do I realize I’d spoken my whole train of thought. Before I can apologize, she shakes her head and snarls.
“We can’t have that.” She bursts into a whirl of activity, another thing I can’t control and don’t understand, but my alpha trusts her and follows in her wake.
Before long, we’re settled in the conference room at a corner of the table, which puts her in easy reach. This close, the warmth from her body makes my alpha want to purr, and he only restrains himself because we’re eating—and purring while eating always results in a mess sooner or later.
“I don’t know if Corin mentioned that I’m a vegetarian?” She gives me a side-eye as she opens the basket.
“He did, but I remembered.” I chuckle. “I still recall a couple of times you went on about how you can’t eat flesh, how your whole body revolts at the mere idea. I couldn’t imagine a person that anti-meat and fish changing no matter how long after.”
That earns me a smile even before she starts digging into the contents.
She raises an eyebrow at the cans of highly carbonated fake fruit soda that she used to consume by the case, but both end up in front of her, while the thermos of lemonade is on my side.
Better still, she tries everything I’ve brought, oohing and ahhing over how neatly they’re packed.
I’d included all I could remember of her old favorites: triangles sandwiches with cucumber and cream cheese or hummus and roast veggies; small containers of bean and potato salads and an avocado salsa.
She takes it fairly well when I tell her that, not only is she’s having lunch with me today and Nathan on Friday, but Nathan’s having lunch with Corin today and me on Friday, and Nathan and I’ll do dinner tomorrow because she and Corin evidently already have an unspecified commitment.
“Nathan is the only one with experience in a pack, and he says we each need to have some kind of pack relationship with the all members.”
She repeats my explanation with a pained expression. Popping a can, she drains it halfway, and then emits a tiny, delicate burp.
I nod.
“It’s a lot harder to be angry at Corin when he makes sense.
” She finishes off the can, then pushes her remaining food aside and leans forward, elbows on the table and head resting on her hands.
“So, you’re interested in forming a pack with us and Nathan, even though you don’t know anything about packs? ”
“Except the fantasies in general circulation.” I nod again, swallowing. The lemonade I’ve turns to acid in my belly, and my alpha is all stiff attention.
“That’s not a clear answer. Are you interested or not?”
“I’m here.” I shrug. “I almost didn’t come today. Had an email all ready to send to Corin last night backing out, but I deleted it, and I’m here. I’m in, if you’ll have me.”