17. Bethany
Chapter seventeen
Bethany
Something’s changed. I mean, that was the intent of the day with my family. But the alphas have gone quiet, pensive. It’s like the calm before a storm, and I’m not sure which way the storm is going to go or what the fallout is going to be.
Saint is sitting on the lounge and hasn’t taken his eyes off my face in the two hours, five minutes, and thirty-three seconds the movie has been on. Crow is laying on his back on the floor with his eyes closed, but he’s not asleep.
Hunter, on the other hand, disappeared, saying he needed to take care of something and took his keys and left.
I finally turn to Saint and growl at him. The unease and pressure has built far too high. “What?”
“Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About murdering anyone who touches you.”
That should not make me get butterflies. It is not sweet. Oh, hell, who am I kidding? It was dreamy. Swoon worthy. Didn’t I fantasize about my alpha’s saying this to me?
Dare I wonder if these last two weeks have changed everything? Will I be getting my happy ending and staying with the pack? They haven’t said they love me, though, and I need to hear that. In order to stay, I need a love declaration. Those are the rules.
“Thank you,” Saint says with a small frown. He sits back on the couch, getting more comfortable.
“What brought this on?”
“Just a thought.”
I nod my head and glance at Crow. He’s got his foot pressed up against my leg like he needs to be touching me. I wish he would come up here and hug me. But we’re starting with friendship. I want to skip to friends with benefits.
“So, my favourite genre of movies to watch are fantasy and sci-fi.”
It’s so random that my cheeks heat. But Saint adjusts the way he’s sitting and leans forward.
“War and crime. Books?”
“Romance. You?”
“Mystery and horror. Music?”
I hum. “Um, I like a bit of everything, to be honest with you.”
“I’m not fussy with music, but that’s where Crow comes in. Can you play an instrument?”
“Yes, I can play the guitar. What about you?” I raise an eyebrow, falling into this little game.
“Nope. Not even to save my life. Favourite food?”
“I love a roast, but I think my comfort food is potato layer. Potatoes are comfort heaven.”
“I love pizza.”
Crow is sitting up, watching us volley answers at each other as Saint gets up and moves closer.
“Favourite memory.” Saint smiles, and I’m struck by how carefree he seems.
“Uh, when I was little, my dad brought me on a moonlight picnic to see the stars. There were so many it felt like the world was broken.”
“Mine was buying this house.”
“Was?”
“Meeting you that night at the bar is currently ranked number one.”
He reaches out and touches my hand, just a brush of his fingers over mine, but it melts me.
“What are you afraid of?”
It takes me a moment to remember we’re still playing this game. “Spiders. And you?”
“People in masks.”
His fingers curl around mine, and I turn my hand over, giving him access to my hand. He traces a circle on my palm. I shiver and shift in my seat.
“Most hated food?” Saint rasps out.
“Beans. All kinds of beans.” A whine escapes me.
Saint leans closer, so close our lips brush, just a whisper of feeling that is there and gone.
He pulls back. “I dislike cauliflower and broccoli.”
The door opens, and Saint lets go of my hand. I look up and see a huge arrangement of flowers being carried by someone. The flowers are made up of a variety in shades of red and pink. It must have cost a fortune.
Hunter stops in front of me and lowers them to me. I reach out hesitantly.
“I am sorry.”
I blink up at him. “You’re sorry?”
“For treating you so badly. For being scared. But, mostly, for hurting you. I’m sorry. I was an ass.”
I take the flowers and sniff them. “Thank you,” I whisper.
No one has ever brought me flowers before. Tears well up in my eyes because not only are these flowers absolutely gorgeous, but Hunter is sorry. He’s sorry. He regrets his actions.
What does this mean?
“I’m going to do better. I’m going to figure my shit out. Give me some time, but I’m going to become the alpha you need. We all are.”
I look at Saint and find him staring at me. “Really?”
“I want to get to know you. Friends is the first step,” he says, as if trying the words out for the first time.
“We would like to court you, Bethany. Your father has given us permission, but at the end of the day, if you tell us you don’t want us to try, we will abide by your wishes.”
“No, I…” I trail off, my throat tight. “I want it, I just don’t want to get hurt again.”
“We’re going to do this slowly. Getting to know you, and you getting to know us. We’ll go on dates and learn to trust and respect each other.” Saint says evenly, “If you will allow it.”
I scramble up, trying hard to sort out the cyclone of feelings inside me. They only have one week left of my deadline, but this is tremendous progress.
“And then, when we’ve all done some healing, we can talk about bonds and what it means for us and forever,” Hunter says.
I forget how to breathe for a long moment. He didn’t talk about love. But maybe we don’t need a label. Maybe this is enough.
I put the flowers aside and stand up. Hunter doesn’t expect me when I throw myself into his arms, but I can’t help it.
“Thank you. Thank you for not sending me away. For giving me a chance.”
“No, Bethany. Thank you for not giving up on us. We will do better.” Hunter kisses my forehead, and then Saint is there, curling his big, strong arms around me. The bourbon scent fills the air.
“I’m sorry that we hurt you. So sorry,” Saint whispers.
I don’t say anything, just keep my eyes closed and listen to his heartbeat. Hope and happiness flood me, only for Crow to pull me out of Saint’s arms. He picks me up, holding me under my ass.
“We are terrible alphas with hundreds of things that are going to drive you nuts, but we will try to fix those things. We will try.”
I cup his cheek, seeing the conviction in his eyes. That’s all I can ask.
Another week has brought a whirlwind of gifts, dates, and hours spent with the pack. There are only two days left until I reach the three-week deadline. If I don’t hear them say they love me, will I walk? Do I have the strength?
We’re being very careful to keep our hands to ourselves and not touch too much. Every time they do, I feel like I’m going up in flames. My libido that I had under control is now out of control.
I’m wary and cautious, and there are times when I’m lying in my bed all alone that I wonder if this isn’t another trick or a ploy to screw me over. I wonder when they will change their minds.
Sometimes, I’m afraid, and I keep some distance between us. I try hard not to let my fears poison me, but I’m not sure.
Hunter has me standing in between his legs and is feeding me a rolled up pancake. I moan at the taste and lean even closer. It’s strangely erotic to be standing in just a shirt and panties in between a man’s legs while he feeds you his breakfast.
“We’ve got an enormous event at the pub in a month. Tonight is a mini trial run, just to see what we need to change.”
I listen intently as he walks me through it.
But my attention is stuck on the way Hunter’s hand is sitting on the upper curve of my ass. I just want him to start stroking. Slowly or quickly. He can smack me. Anything, I just need.
“Bethany, are you listening?” Saint whispers in my ear.
I startle and meet his eyes, only to look away, unable to hold his gaze.
“What were you thinking right now? Your cheeks have gone all red?” Saint teases, and then his expression sharpens, and he leans in and sniffs. “Oh, I see.”
I wiggle in Hunter’s hold, but he refuses to let me go. He drags me even closer and leans in. I hold my breath as his lips touch my neck.
“Hunter, please.”
“We were going to wait.”
“I can’t wait. Not on this. Please.”
He moans, and in one quick move, pulls my top up and over my head. Hunter leans forward and sucks my nipple into his mouth. I lean back, giving more room, while I arch and writhe against him.
“Hey, guys, whoa!” Crow says as he walks into the room. He moves closer to Saint and watches with a hungry stare.
“We’re just going to get her off, and that’s it!” Hunter growls in warning.
“Sure, Hunter, we can play nicely,” Crow purrs and bites his bottom lip.
Crow is beside me in an instant, peeling my panties down and helping me out of them.
“I love your legs, Bethany,” Crow whispers. “But I like them best when they are around my head.”
Crow drops between my legs. I’m suddenly lifted and dropped into a sit, straddling Hunter’s thighs. He shoots me a wicked grin and stretches his legs apart, forcing me open. Crow doesn’t waste a moment. He dives in like he’s trying to burrow into my cunt.
I cry out, surprised and so relieved to have the tension eased.
Saint sits next to Hunter on the table and absently reaches out and tugs at my nipple. “You’re so pretty when you feel good, Omega.”
“Say that again. She literally gushes when you call her omega,” Crow says from between my legs.
“Do you now? Do you like being told you're a good omega?”
I whimper, but Crow snarls and redoubles his efforts.
“She loves it,” he confirms.
I wiggle, but Hunter has me in an iron grip, and he kisses his way up my chest and sucks lightly on my neck.
“All I want to do is mark you. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine. That no one can touch you.”
I can’t move more than an inch. They are holding me too tightly.
I’m a prisoner to their ministrations, and I love it. Saint moves behind me and presses against me, cupping my breasts. He pulls my head back and slants his mouth over mine, demanding entrance that I immediately grant. His kiss is overwhelming. He doesn’t hold back; he seizes control, his tongue stroking mine before he pulls back, kissing lightly and returning, going deep again.
“Shall we command you?” Hunter asks.
I whimper.
“You’re so beautiful, Bethany. So very lovely.”
I’m almost beyond the ability to form a coherent thought. And then Crow pushes three fingers into me.
I moan into Saint’s mouth, holding Hunter to me with a white-knuckled grip.
“Come for us, Omega,” Hunter whispers. “Please.”
The tension that’s been building washes over me in a slow-build release that has me crying out.
“That’s it, good girl,” Saint purrs as he moves around us, staring at my face in fascination.
And then I stop, everything forgotten as I realise that Saint is purring. My mouth drops open, and I reach out cautiously and put my hand to his vibrating chest.
“Saint?”
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers and touches his chest. “I’m purring. Actually purring.”
Alphas purr from contentment, only in the presence of their pack, and not all of them are capable of it. I remember reading that in school. I’d gone home and spoken to Auggie about it. She’d said that while Wayne can purr, Charles can’t or never has. She said she wasn’t worried about it, but it feels amazing when they do purr. And I concur, it’s one of my favourite memories. I want to bottle this moment.
But he’s purring for me.
I close my eyes because whatever thoughts I had of them betraying me are gone. If he’s purring, then he’s serious.
He does consider me pack.
And isn’t that the same thing as love?
No, it’s not. And in two days, I’ll leave them. Unless they give me what I need.