Breakfast
Tansy
I finish my last bite of yogurt, then set the bowl aside, feeling very full and a little giddy. This alpha is dangerously charming. He’s spent the last hour telling me all about his pack, how they all met and fell in love.
It’s been a surprisingly sweet story so far. Not an aggressive meeting of three alphas, but more like a meet-cute at a coffee shop.
“Me, Cass, and Grason have been together ever since,” Warren says, reaching into the nearly empty bag of granola and fishing out the last cluster. He pops it into his mouth like it’s candy.
I watch him chew, amused, fully aware I’ve just witnessed him eat almost the entire bag by himself.
“The three of us have been together for eighteen years now,” he says. “Two years with Beck.”
“Eighteen years?” I blink at him. “That’s a long time for a pack of alphas to be together without a beta or an omega to regulate them.”
He nods, a small smile tugging at his mouth, like he’s replaying old memories. “I think it helped that Cass was thirty when we got together. I was twenty-three, but Grason was nineteen.” He lets out a quick laugh. “That boy was wild back in the day.”
“Grason was wild?” I smile widely, trying to picture the three of them, young and untamed. “He seems so calm,” I say, disbelief clear in my voice. “And…kind of nerdy.”
Warren’s mouth twitches. “Now he is.”
I wait, eyebrows raised, and he chuckles under his breath. “Gray didn’t really settle until Beck joined our pack,” he says. “I think Beck drained most of Grason’s excess energy.”
“That makes sense,” I say slowly, picturing them together. Grason’s quiet strength. Beck’s sharp attention. “He really cares about him.”
“He does,” Warren agrees without hesitation. “We all do. Beck changed our dynamic in the best way.” The way he says it, so sure, makes my chest warm again.
“My parents don’t have a beta,” I say quietly. “My fathers didn’t like the idea of sharing their omega with someone they deemed…” I pause, not wanting to tell him what my parents really think of betas. “They don’t have a beta in their pack,” I finish, deciding that’s the best way to put it.
Warren’s brows lift. “That’s unusual,” he says after a moment. He rests his forearms on the table, hands folding together. “Every pack I know wouldn’t be able to function without a beta.”
I watch his hands as he talks. They’re so big and strong.
“You need all three dynamics to make it work,” Warren goes on. “An alpha leads, an omega anchors, but a beta holds everyone together.”
Something in my chest tightens, then eases.
“I didn’t know that growing up,” I admit. “Betas were always treated like an afterthought. Like they were optional.”
“They’re not,” he says firmly, not angry, just letting me know. “Not to us.”
The certainty in his voice makes my throat ache. I think of Beck again, of the way everyone listens to him without question, the way his presence is woven into every part of this house.
“Do you want me to make you something else to eat?” Warren asks, pointing at my empty bowl.
“I’m good,” I shake my head, watching as he grabs the empty bag of granola and tips it upside down into his mouth, finishing off the last few crumbs. “This was a tiny bag,” he says with a small frown.
I can’t help but laugh. “It was a forty-eight ounce bag.” I tap the front of the packaging. “I’m pretty sure you're only supposed to eat a quarter cup.”
Warren arches a brow, completely unrepentant. “I’m pretty sure one container is one serving.”
My gaze drops to his lean, firm chest, wrapped up in his snug dress shirt. “You might be built now, but you're going to regret those serving sizes when you’re older,” I tease.
He folds the empty bag as he leans in, resting his forearms on the table. “I’ll let older Warren deal with that.”
I laugh. “Must be nice. I can’t even look at a piece of bread without gaining ten pounds. Once I hit twenty-five, everything stuck to this ass.”
Warren’s eyes go wide, and one corner of his mouth lifts. “Well, in that case, let me get you a loaf of bread.” He starts to shift like he’s about to stand, and I burst out laughing.
“Don’t you dare.” I reach out without thinking and grab his forearm, fingers wrapping around solid muscle, tugging him back into his chair. “Sit. You’ve done enough damage for one breakfast.”
He looks down at my hand still touching him, then up at me, surprised for half a second before he laughs too. It’s easy and unguarded, the sound warm in a way that makes my chest feel light.
“Alright,” he concedes. “No bread.”
I pull my hand back, suddenly feeling very warm. Heat creeps up my neck and settles in my cheeks, my pulse fluttering a little too quickly as Warren keeps looking at me.
His gaze lingers on my face, quiet and intent, like he’s taking his time to admire me. It feels weird to have someone look at me like that.
The attention makes my chest feel tight in a way that’s almost dizzying.
I drop my eyes to the table, suddenly shy, my fingers curling in my lap as I try to remember how to breathe normally.
“Okay.” Warren clears his throat, the sound soft but deliberate, like he’s breaking the moment for both of us. He reaches toward me, and I hold my breath, but instead of touching me, he picks up my bowl. “Do you want anything else?”
I shake my head, shifting nervously in my chair.
He nods once, like he expected that answer. “Okay,” he says again, softer this time. Then he stands and walks off toward the sink.
I stay where I am, listening to the quiet sounds of Warren rinsing the dishes. It all feels so…domestic? Normal? Nice.
I stare down at the table, tracing a faint scratch in the cool marble with my fingertip.
It hurts a little to admit it, but this might actually be a good pack.
I don’t want to hope too hard, but I can’t help it. Not when everything here feels so different from what I was taught to expect.
I swallow hard as I rub my palms over the top of my sweatpants.
Because the truth is, it’s not like I can leave. I’m mated now. Bound. My life is tied to these alphas whether I want them or not. Cass is already woven into me in ways my body understands better than my mind does.
And soon, Warren and Grason will claim me too.
The thought sends a shocking shiver right through me.
I press my thighs together, embarrassed by my body’s reaction, and tell myself it’s just nerves. My body is adjusting. But that isn’t all of it. There’s excitement there, undeniable and curling warm in my belly.
I lift my eyes back to Warren, to the steady line of him standing at the kitchen counter, and let myself breathe.
Please let this be real, I think. Please let them be safe.
“Okay.” Warren wipes his hands on a dish towel. “Ready to check on our grumpy pack alpha?”
“Yup.” I smooth down the front of my oversized shirt as I cross the kitchen.
Warren matches my pace, unhurried, staying close without crowding me. We step into the living room just as Cass’s physical therapist pauses near the front door, Dr. Pace right behind her.
“I’ll see you in two days,” she says with a polite smile.
Beck nods eagerly.
“And Beck,” Dr. Pace says as he struggles to put on his coat, “call me if you need anything. His knee is looking good, though. Much better than last week.” As he says it, his dark eyes slide over my face, then he winks.
The way he’s looking at me makes my stomach twist. Once again, I feel less like a person and more like a treatment plan. Nervous, I shift my weight, instinctively angling closer to Warren, even as I keep my face neutral.
Two seconds later, Beck waves the doctor off, and the door is shut tight behind them.
Cass exhales like he’s been holding that breath for hours. His head tips back against the couch, eyes sliding shut as a heavy sigh leaves him. He looks so exhausted, and all I want to do is go to him.
I take a half-step forward, but Beck is already moving.
The beta sits down beside Cass, close and familiar, their shoulders brushing as Cass leans instinctively toward him.
I stop.
I stay where I am, next to Warren, my hands folding together as I give them space. After all, Beck’s been here longer. He’s earned the right to comfort Cass first.
Beck settles in close, one hand already going to Cass’s thigh like it belongs there. “How’s the leg?” he asks quietly. “Does it hurt more than usual?”
Cass opens his eyes and looks down at the beta. The edge is gone from his expression, worn smooth by exhaustion. “Sore,” he says. “But it’s manageable.”
Beck nods, fingers pressing lightly, carefully. “Do you need anything? Ice. Pain meds. Food.”
“No.” Cass’s hand comes up, curling around Beck’s waist. He tugs the beta closer, pulling Beck fully onto his lap.
Beck makes a small sound of surprise, then relaxes into it as Cass lowers his head and nuzzles into the side of Beck’s neck, breathing him in like it steadies something essential.
A twist of longing washes over me.
Without thinking, my fingers drift to my own neck, to the tender skin around my mating bite. I press lightly, grounding myself, reminding my body to wait patiently.
Cass lifts his head.
“Tansy.” His voice is low and unmistakably commanding. “Come here.”
I move at once, crossing the room without hesitation. Cass shifts slightly to give me space, careful with his leg, and I lower myself onto the couch on his other side. I’m mindful of where I place my weight, of the way his knee is positioned, of not jostling him.
Cass drapes an arm around me, solid and warm, anchoring me in place like it’s exactly where I belong. Beck remains settled against his chest, calm and unbothered, like this configuration is as natural as breathing.
It feels…good.
“Hey, Cass,” Warren shifts closer to the couch. “I’d like a word when you’ve got a minute.”
Cass opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing—” Warren’s phone rings, cutting him off. “Give me a minute.” He pulls his phone out of his back pocket.
The sound grows louder, cutting through the otherwise quiet room.
Warren glances down at the screen, his jaw tightening. “Shit,” he mutters. Then, to Cass, “It’s Dominic Hale. That’s not a call I can ignore.” He pauses, then holds his phone up like he’s offering it to Cass. “Do you want to take it?”
Cass quickly laughs. “No.” He lifts a hand in a short, dismissive wave. “You’re running things right now.”
Warren’s mouth tightens. He doesn’t love that. I can see it in the way his shoulders tense, in the flicker of frustration he doesn’t bother hiding. But he nods once decisively.
“Alright,” he says. “I’ll deal with it.”
He steps away, already bringing the phone to his ear as he turns toward the hallway. His voice drops as he answers, all business now, the warmth from the kitchen completely gone.
Cass shifts slightly, careful of his leg, and Beck adjusts with him without thinking, the movement practiced and intimate. Cass’s arm stays firm around me, anchoring me in place.
Then the couch dips again.
Grason moves in behind Beck, all quiet weight and warmth, settling close enough that we’re all packed together shoulder to shoulder.
The big alpha drapes one arm along the back of the couch, and the other around Beck’s middle, then he leans in and breathes the beta in, nose buried briefly in Beck’s hair.
Beck makes a soft, content sound and melts back into Gray.
Grason’s eyes lift and meet mine. He smiles at me, slow and easy, then his eyes float closed.
I snuggle deeper into Cass’s side, staring at Beck and Grason while inhaling all three of their lovely scents. It feels so good to be touching and connected to them. Comfortable.
Familiar in a way I hadn’t expected.
And for the first time since I arrived, I realize how much I like these men.
And that I could get used to this.