Chapter 24 Presley #2
I ignored the tight, aching bond in my chest and threw myself onto the bed, burying my face in the cat's warm fur.
"Oh, you sweet, orange dummy. You missed your mum, didn't you? You didn't care about helicopters or claiming marks or complicated pack dynamics, did you?"
Mr. Cheddar purred, a low vibration that thrummed against my cheek. His fur smelled like the caravan, like outside, like the simple life I'd left behind. This was what I needed. A life that was simple, real and uncomplicated.
Then, I felt something move.
Not the cat.
A tiny, frantic flick of a tail appeared from under my pillow. My eyes went wide. A field mouse darted out, its little black eyes panicked. It scrambled over Mr. Cheddar's back, tiny claws scrabbling for purchase.
The cat didn't even open an eye. He just meowed lazily and went back to sleep, clearly too sleepy to move.
"Mouse!" I shrieked.
I scrambled back, my feet hitting the floor, then immediately jumped onto the tiny kitchenette counter. My hip knocked into the kettle, sending it clattering. "Fritz!"
Fritz burst through the door, his body tense, eyes alert for a threat. He looked ready to fight. To defend. To destroy whatever had made me scream.
Instead, he found me standing on the counter, pointing wildly at the bed while Maeve doubled over laughing in the doorway.
"Aww. he left you another gift, Pres" Maeve wheezed, clutching her stomach.
The mouse, realizing its error, darted off the bed and disappeared into my knicker drawer.
Fritz didn't laugh. His shoulders relaxed, the tension draining out of him. He just looked at the tiny creature now frantically trying to hide in my underwear. "I'll get it, Liebling."
He grabbed an empty Tupperware container from the sink, the one I used to keep my tea bags dry.
For the next ten minutes, I watched the mouse make another escape from the drawer and a billionaire alpha crawl around the floor of my cramped caravan, shushing a mouse while Mr. Cheddar watched with bored judgment from the bed.
"Come on, little one," Fritz coaxed, his voice gentle. "Just into the box. That's it."
He finally trapped it, the mouse's tiny feet scrabbling against the plastic. Fritz stood, holding the container at arm's length, and looked at me still standing on the counter.
"Crisis averted," he said.
"My hero."
He grinned, that easy, infectious smile that made my chest warm. "Where do you want him?"
"Outside. Far from my pillow."
“Let’s find you somewhere safe to live.” Fritz disappeared out the door, and continued talking to the mouse. Telling it to find a nice field and stop terrorizing omegas.
Maeve was still laughing, wiping tears from her eyes. "I like him. Don't tell him I said that."
"Your secret's safe with me."
Later, the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the moors in bruised purples and golds. I sat on the metal steps of the caravan, wrapped in a blanket that smelled like damp and old wool. In my hands was a tuna sandwich Maeve had made.
Maeve sat in a lawn chair nearby, her eyes tracking Fritz with deep suspicion.
"He ate my sandwich.”
Fritz sat on the grass at my feet, his expensive trousers now stained with mud and grass. He was currently using a wet wipe to meticulously clean a small spot on my pillowcase where the mouse had apparently taken a nap. He didn't complain. He didn't look out of place. He just looked content.
“You made it for him.”
“But he’s a billionaire, Pres. They don’t eat tuna sandwiches. I bet the one who bit you wouldn’t.”
“They’re all good men, Maeve.”
"Hastings is complicated, but he's good," Fritz said, not looking up from his task.
"He should have waited," Maeve snapped, pointing her finger at me.
“I presented myself to him.”
"You were in your heat. Omegas will do anything in their heat. They'll beg for things they don't want when the fever breaks. It's biology, isn't it? Selfish, if you ask me."
The words hit me like a cold splash of water over my face.
Was that all it was? A biological glitch? Had I only wanted the claim because my heat told me to?
Had Hastings.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
I pulled it out, expecting a demand to get back to London but I was staying in my caravan for the night. I just had to let Fritz know.
But it wasn’t a demand, it was a photo.
I tapped it open. My breath hitched.
It was a close-up of the side of Hastings's neck. The lighting was soft, golden, likely from the lamp in his study where he was undoubtedly still pacing. The skin was smooth, unbroken, his pulse point visible and vulnerable. There was an unusual faint shadow of stubble along his jaw.
Below it, a message:
I didn't rein in my need, and I'll spend the rest of my life making that up to you. But if it helps... you can always bite me back. I'm waiting. — H.
A flutter started in the center of my chest, a warm, honey-thick sensation that had nothing to do with heat and everything to do with the man. The scent and mark of him suddenly didn't feel like a brand. It was more like a tether that I wanted between us.
He was offering himself. He surrendered the very control he prized above all else.
I bit my lip, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
"Everything alright?" Fritz asked, looking up at me.
I looked at him, then at Maeve, then back at the helicopter waiting in the field like a patient dragon. The caravan was my past. It was safe, and it was small. The frozen pansies and the leaking roof and the electric meter that ran out every week.
But the pack was a riot of rain and vanilla, of cedar and leather. It was a mess of emotions and complications and three alphas who somehow wanted me despite all my sharp edges and poverty and complete lack of pedigree.
It was messy.
But it was my mess.
I stood up, shaking out the blanket. Crumbs fell onto the grass.
"We can go back now," I said, my voice steady for the first time all day. "I think I've had enough space."
Fritz's smile was brilliant. "About time."
Maeve stood, wrapping her arms around herself. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
She pulled me into a hug, fierce and tight. "If any of them hurt you, you call me. I'll kill them myself."
"I know you will."
"Good." She pulled back, her hands on my shoulders. "Now go. Before I change my mind about liking the German one."
Fritz chuckled as he walked away.
I laughed, kissed her cheek, and headed inside the caravan to give Mr. Cheddar a cuddle. It was a waste of time throwing him out, he had a way into the caravan I didn’t know about.
“See you soon.” I stared at Maeve and then at Fritz heading for the helicopter.
“I’ll visit.”
“You will?”
“Yes. Now go.”
I ran to the helicopter, looking back once. Seeing Mr. Cheddar watching from the window, his tail flicking once before he settled back into his nap. I raised my hand to Maeve.
“Apparently the bad weather is moving in from the west, we need to leave.” Fritz held his hand out to me.
And as the blades started up and we lifted into the darkening sky, I pulled out my phone and typed out a reply to Hastings.
I'll be home soon. And yes, I'm going to bite you back. Fair warning. — P.
The response came back almost immediately.
I'm counting on it. — H.