Chapter 26
brYLEE
After his knot unlocked, Colter collapsed onto the massive mattress and fell instantly asleep, his skull mask rising up so that the crests of his cheeks were visible.
Then Ridge told me he had an appointment, and Kylian swooped forward and kissed my cheek, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief as he said he had a quick errand to run.
"Will you be okay with just Luka for a bit?" he crooned.
Luka punched him in the shoulder. "I'm insulted."
Kylian just waggled his tongue back at the other alpha, and I reassured them I'd be fine.
With that, two of my mates had left my wing of the castle, both promising to return as soon as they could.
And then Luka turned to me and asked, "Princess, want me to clean you up?"
Now I'm hand in hand with the one remaining member of Alpha Team X who's awake, and I'm still a little dazed by our new reality. The castle. My heat. His butt.
Man, does he have a good butt.
Luka loosely holds my fingers in an interlocked fashion as we walk nude down the hallway in search of a bathroom.
I keep drifting a few steps behind to admire the view.
But I also keep falling behind because a tiny bit of chest-clenching self-consciousness cycles through me as our feet pad along the cold tiles.
I can't think of a time in my life when I've walked through a lit space with a man while naked.
Before my mates, nudity was for lights-out, blinds-shut, awkward groping scenarios.
And a cave and a closet aren't wild exceptions…
This is different.
This isn't the madness of the moment, full of biting and kissing, quick hands and grinding bodies.
There's a unique sort of vulnerability here as we stroll along side by side without a strip of clothing on, one I haven't experienced before. And something about it makes me feel like a glass figurine. One nudge away from shattering.
Cellulite and stomach pouches flit through my head like landmines, and I peer at Luka, waiting for the second he glances back and spots one of my million flaws.
My throat grows dry. All the moisture retreats to the bottom lids of my eyes and pools there. My stomach tightens as if I'm approaching the top of a rollercoaster and then teetering back and forth, just hovering over the drop. Surely everything's about to plunge into chaos.
Each step, I await the flick of the switch, the drop of a pin that signals a grenade is about to go off.
The moment he's disappointed with me.
My exes flash briefly through my head, and I can picture their expressions perfectly. The quick, miniature frowns when they'd seen something they didn't like. Or I'd done something wrong.
I realize that my shoulders have started to hunch from the tension brewing within, and I blow out a breath, trying to expel those alphas and their poison.
But it doesn't retreat easily, that burn inside my veins.
That sure sense that Luka and Alpha Team X are going to discover how broken I am in every sense of the word.
Shards of glass line my swallow as I fight against the barrage of dark thoughts and emotions bulldozing through my gut with a speed I wouldn't have thought possible.
Clenching and releasing my free hand, I try to shake away the tension rollicking under my skin. I can't let my exes ruin the present. They've already ravaged my past, and they don't deserve another second.
My scent matches aren't like them.
I repeat that phrase incessantly as I walk my wobbly self-esteem back from the brink while we zigzag down the hall, opening door after door. Instead of letting my brain fester, I home in on my mate, trying to focus on something else.
Luka holds my hands gently as he peers into room after room, naked as the day he was born, dick swaying, back tall and proud. He has good posture, and I vaguely wonder if it's from all the workouts he does with the military or if he had posture coaches like I did.
Probably not. My mother is a unique sort of creature.
I admire how his teeth catch on his lower lip as he pushes open a door, only to find a massive desk and a set of chairs.
"An office? Really?" Quickly, he pulls back to me with a quirked brow, saying, “It has to be somewhere close. It makes no sense to have a nesting room without a bathroom nearby.”
He's so calm and rational, like all of this is no big deal. Like he's not self-conscious about walking naked and being judged, being found lacking.
How can men do that?
It's so utterly unfair.
Of course, he's smooth as a marble sculpture, every inch of him lean, lick-able muscle.
I'm not.
A blasting, frigid surge of sadness blows in like a cold front, and all my distraction work is undone in a millisecond. Half frozen, self-loathing sleet drips down my ribs.
Shut up, Brylee! This is a happy moment. Don't ruin it.
But the emotions swell like dark clouds. Quick. Swirling. Heavy.
And then he notices the sheen on my eyes.
Before I can blink the traitorous tears that sprang up out of nowhere away, he's in front of me, cupping my cheeks, staring down at me with his whisky-colored eyes.
I drink in that gaze, becoming befuddled when he asks, "What's wrong?"
I try to swallow my answer because it feels stupid and petty, and I have no idea why these emotions are so intense right now. Is this what being in heat feels like? If so, fuck that. But those whisky eyes work their magic, and an honest answer spills out of me.
"You're too perfect. And I'm not."
His lower lip juts as he shakes his head. "Sweet girl, you have no idea how perfect you are."
His hands trace down either side of my neck and then slowly over my shoulders, the touch featherlight, but it makes my nerve endings absolutely sing. Each point of contact is sunshine bright, and I react by pushing closer, leaning into him as if his touch is the cure for my melancholy.
He indulges me by caressing more, dragging his hands up and down as he says, "You're an incredible balance of gentle and strong.
What you did for your brother? That was so selfless and sweet that it takes my breath away.
And you're by far the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
One look at you and my chest is in tatters like I've taken machine-gun fire to the heart. "
That metaphor does it. It breaks up all the burgeoning sadness with a choked, thick chuckle.
"Oh my god. Did you get that line from one of your omega-seduction lessons? It's terrible."
He laughs, and that sound is so light and airy that it dispels and unwinds many of those negative snarls inside me. "No. I'm full of debonair compliments."
"Machine-gun fire to the heart." I give a tiny snort, and he squeezes my shoulders playfully.
"Yes. Right here." He sweeps down, grabs my hand, and holds it up to his chest.
His heartbeat quickens at my touch, and it brings a shy smile to my lips to feel the proof of his cheesy words.
"It may not be elegant, but it's true," he replies, before gripping my hand and returning to our quest. But now that he's found a way to lighten my mood, he can't seem to help himself. "I guess I could have compared you to something worse."
"Like what?" I challenge.
"Like…oh, this one. Are you a magician? Because when I look at you, everyone else disappears." Luka starts to chuckle at the end of the groany pickup line. "I watched my cousin get punched in the face by an omega's boyfriend for using that one on her."
His laughter unlocks my own, and my body bleeds away tension, resetting as I reply, "Seems like a reasonable reason to punch someone."
"It was. Bruce was a ridiculous flirt back in the day. Of course, he's got an omega mate now, and three boys. I can't wait for you to meet him."
My throat squeezes and my chest grows warm at the thought of getting introduced to Luka's family. The off-handed certainty with which he talked about introducing us… He has no idea what that means to me.
Luka finds the right door.
"Finally!" he exclaims as he flicks on a light switch and leads me into a bathroom roughly the size of Ted and Caran's entire apartment.
White marble with black accents, and there's a tub that looks like a shallow swimming pool off to our right.
And the shower… The entire ceiling looks like it's one long, perforated metal strip. I bet, when it's turned on, it resembles a waterfall.
"Tub or shower?" Luka turns back to me, head quirked to one side.
"Tub," I respond, when I spot the jets in the sides and the long bench seats.
"As you wish," he replies with a wink.
He brings our linked hands to his lips and places a quick kiss on my knuckles before he moves to the three faucets spaced around the tub and turns them on.
He helps me step into the tub, and I sink onto one of the seats as he strides off to a side cabinet.
"Robes in here. And towels. Do you want shower gel or something? Or plain soap?" Across the room, he bends to scan the options and looks just as serious about vanilla-jasmine scent versus peach-cinnamon as he does when he's explaining hand-to-hand combat.
His level of focus is a bit adorable.
"Just soap," I call out.
He pads back over with his arms full of things and lays them out as methodically as a surgeon.
And overkill is an understatement. He's brought me three bars of soap and a liquid version, just in case I change my mind.
He's got a loofah, a scrub brush that looks like it belongs outside next to a barbecue grill that immediately has me shaking my head, and four washrags from different sets of towels.
He holds up a rag in each hand. "Feel these. I think the left is thicker, but the right is softer. What do you prefer?"
I reach out and touch each one, surprised to find myself instantly repelled by the thicker rag. "Softer."
Luka responds calmly, "I thought so. Are your senses feeling heightened?"
I swirl my ankle in the water as I try to gauge whether or not that's the case. The rag thing was odd, but I'm not feeling overwhelmed by anything else at the moment. Other than my nearly nuclear emotional meltdown over nothing.