Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Belle
Ready or not... I have to face them.
After last night, I’m dragging my feet to head into the kitchen. Their voices echo, so I know Rhys, Knox, and Percy are all already awake and moving in the kitchen together. Have they talked about last night? About what a snoopy little creep I am?
I squeeze my eyes shut and pause at the bottom of the stairs to work up some courage. Not for too long, though, for fear of being found creeping around the house without announcing myself again .
“Just do it,” I whisper to myself, sounding like a sneaker commercial.
With my shoulders back and head held high, I enter the kitchen... and immediately the three guys fall silent and look at me with matching smirks. My cheeks burn hot as I avert my gaze, checking out the misshapen muffin next to the stove instead of continuing to make eye contact.
“Good morning,” Percy greets me first, stepping around the counter to walk over and sweep me up into a comforting hug. At least he doesn’t think I’m such a creep that he wants nothing to do with me. I relax into his embrace until he steps away, leaving space for Rhys to replace him.
“Morning, Belle.” Rhys dips his head to force me to meet his eyes so I can see his boyish smile. He winks, which I take as a sign that he’s not bothered about last night, either.
Maybe I can live with my peeping shame after all.
“Quite the show you got last night,” Knox muses, crossing his arms over his impressive chest as he stays in place behind the kitchen island, dangerously close to the spot where he fucked Percy and dropped to his knees last night.
My mouth goes dry. So much for living with my shame. I would like the ground to open up and swallow me, pronto.
“Dude, shut up.” Rhys gives me one more squeeze and then steps aside to turn and glare at Knox. “You know she’s half the reason you came as hard as you did.”
Knox gnashes his teeth at being called out, and this time he’s the one averting his gaze as he mutters, “Whatever.”
Percy chuckles. “Don’t I get some of the credit?”
“Yeah.” Rhys shrugs. “Just not all of the credit.”
Percy shakes his head as he laughs again, completely unbothered by the casual conversation about last night’s sexual exploits. Seeing that he’s not embarrassed by what I saw helps me relax. At least I know my presence isn’t disrupting the normal flow of life here in their cabin.
Seeing Knox and Percy intertwined also helped me understand how they’re living in the middle of nowhere without an omega in sight. These three alphas love each other enough to make the best of their circumstances. Maybe they don’t need an omega to feel whole, but I hope they’ll want me, anyway.
Rhys returns to the stove, where he seems to be cooking scrambled eggs that have taken on a questionable consistency as he ignored them in favor of giving me his attention. Knox side-eyes the eggs before going to the fridge to retrieve a glass bottle of maple syrup. Percy grabs cutlery from a drawer near the dining table and starts setting four places.
The scent-match this morning is particularly difficult to ignore. Somehow, their scents seem stronger than yesterday. I didn’t doubt my initial attraction to them, but I was hoping that it could take a backseat to getting my bearings today.
The kitchen smells like an earthy bakery: apples, citrus, sage, and cinnamon. The scents are so natural together that I’m finding it hard to imagine a world where they part. I know I’m only staying in their cabin out of necessity for now... but surely there could be space for me here.
I wouldn’t mind waking up like this every day.
“How can I help?” I ask, realizing that the best way to ensure they consider keeping me as an option is to make sure I don’t seem like a burden on the household.
All three guys snap their necks to stare at me with wide eyes and brows furrowed in bewilderment.
“Help?” Rhys echoes as if the word is a foreign concept.
Percy simply shakes his head.
Knox grunts and walks the syrup to the table, where he places it gingerly in the center before pointing to a chair. “You can help by sitting right here so that we can feed you.”
Oh. They must be worried I’ll disrupt the flow of their morning routine.
“Maybe I can help with clean-up,” I suggest instead.
“No.” Knox gestures more insistently at the offered seat. “Sit.”
My shoulders droop as I shuffle toward the seat and plop down. I just want to be helpful and prove my value to them. A scent-match is a strong start for a potential pack relationship, but scents aren’t everything . There’s still a choice to be made.
“Try not barking at our house guest,” Percy tells Knox, his tone exasperated.
Knox huffs and crosses the room, opening a door that I think is a pantry based on the small peek inside I get from my vantage point. He rifles around inside with a lot of dramatic thunks and muttering.
“Don’t mind him,” Percy tells me. “He’s going through something.”
Hopefully that something isn’t my presence in the house. If he’s that grumpy because he doesn’t want me here... I’m doomed.
I try to lighten the mood with a joke and fake whisper to Percy, “Is it puberty?”
His chuckle helps me relax.
Rhys strolls over and plunks a muffin down on my plate with a flourish. “Let us take care of you this morning. If you really want to help with something, you can join me for house chores after breakfast, and I’ll put you to work.”
His wolfish grin makes me think he doesn’t intend to have me dusting the mantel.
“You all don’t have to take care of me.” They’re already doing so much for me, and I’m not their omega to have to take care of. Not yet. Maybe not ever, based on Knox’s attitude toward me.
“Maybe not.” Percy shrugs one shoulder and drops into the seat diagonal from me. “But we want to do it anyway, so there’s no sense in arguing. Just lean back and enjoy breakfast.” His body tenses with his last words, and he shoots a quick glance toward Rhys, who is returning to the table with the pan of eggs now to dole out.
Rhys serves me first, scooping the eggs onto my plate with an unexpected thunk. The eggs seem to be... harder than I would expect scrambled eggs to be. He puts a serving on the plate next to me before moving over to serve Percy and the last plate that’s sitting across from me.
“We have fruit, too!” Rhys announces excitedly as if just remembering the addition.
“Thank god,” Percy whispers under his breath.
I arch an eyebrow over at him, wondering if he really likes fruit that much or what?
Knox returns to the table with empty hands despite how intensely he seemed to be searching the pantry. He slips into the seat beside me and eyes the plate in front of him with the caution of someone approaching a wild animal. He glances over and catches me watching him, then quickly glances at Rhys, who pulls a glass bowl of fruit out of the fridge.
Knox leans over and presses his lips to my ear. My whole body freezes as he places a chaste kiss on the sensitive flesh of my earlobe.
What the fuck?
“We try to choke everything down so we don’t hurt his feelings. You can also spit some things into your napkin if you get desperate. We can sneak you something more edible later. Whatever you do... just please don’t tell him the truth.”
A shiver works its way up my spine. I’m so distracted by the intimacy of Knox whispering in my ear that I’m on a delay processing his actual words.
Understanding dawns on me once he pulls away. Rhys must be a terrible cook.
That explains the dense, slightly burnt muffins and the rock-hard scrambled eggs. I also understand now why Percy is so excited about the fruit. No one can mess up a bowl of fruit.
It’s incredibly endearing that they suffer through meals just to keep Rhys happy. Disappointing him isn’t even a possibility for them; instead, letting their pack mate contribute in a way that makes him feel valuable.
“This looks delicious,” I announce to Rhys as he places the bowl of fruit in the center of the table.
Rhys beams proudly. “I also made bacon, and there’s coffee. Do you like coffee?”
I nod even as my tummy turns nervously. If his cooking is bad, I can only imagine what his coffee might taste like.
“Percy makes the best coffee,” Knox says, meeting my eyes with a meaningful look. “We have milk, sugar, or syrups if you want him to add anything like that.”
Percy stands, already looking at me expectantly.
“I’m not picky,” I tell him. “Surprise me?”
He looks pleased by the request and leaps right into action.
A few moments later, Rhys returns with unevenly cooked bacon. Percy isn’t far behind, sliding a steaming mug across the table to me.
“Thank you,” I whisper discreetly to Knox while Rhys and Percy are distracted putting fruit on their plates. I’m sure he only gave me the heads up to spare Rhys’s feelings since he clearly isn’t a fan of mine. Still, I appreciate being spared from hurting the feelings of a man who basically saved my life yesterday. If I have to choke down some questionable cooking, that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.
And how bad can the food really be?
Awful... as it turns out. My first bite of muffin tastes like ash in my mouth. I chew slowly and deliberately to make sure I break the muffin down enough to swallow before making the attempt. As soon as the first bite is sliding down my throat, I reach desperately for my coffee to wash it down with.
My first sip of coffee is incredible, the complete opposite of the food. The drink is sweet, without being overly so, and so smooth that my eyes flutter shut for a moment while I savor the taste.
Percy meets my eyes when I open them again, a pleased smile on his lips.
“This is amazing.” I flick my gaze to Rhys. “Everything tastes so good.”
“You really like it?” His chest puffs out proudly.
I nod with genuine enthusiasm. The food might not taste good, but I love how proud he is about impressing me with his cooking. No wonder the guys don’t dare crush him by admitting his cooking is lackluster.
“Wait until you taste my spaghetti!”
Based on the face Percy briefly reacts with, I have a feeling the spaghetti must be even worse than this morning’s breakfast. And you know what? I would agree to eat Rhys’s awful spaghetti every day if that’s what it takes to secure my spot at this table for more than just the next couple of days.
As I watch the guys around the table in between bites of my barely edible breakfast, I marvel at how natural I feel sitting among them.
I can’t remember where I’m supposed to be right now; I only know there’s no place I would rather be.