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Warren
I unlock the door and step inside, closing it carefully behind me. The house is dark, lights off, and the air is still. The only noise is the faint tick of the thermostat cycling somewhere down the hall. Everyone is clearly asleep.
Good.
The rage that had been fueling me all night is gone, leaving me completely drained.
I make it halfway up the stairs when I feel the trickle of blood move down my fingers.
I pause and tug off my dirty T-shirt, the fabric stiff with dried sweat and Zack's blood.
I wrap it tightly around my injured hand, tucking the end in to secure it.
I want to keep the droplets from spattering on the pristine hardwood.
I walk around the landing, then down the hall, heading for Cass’s room.
Eager to talk to him, I ease his door open enough to see inside.
The room is dark, curtains pulled, the only light coming from the soft glow of the clock on the nightstand. Cass’s naked body is stretched along one side of the bed with Tansy tucked in close against him, the sheets tangled low around their hips.
Tansy is asleep, her face soft and relaxed, breath slow and even. One of Cass’s arms is draped over her waist, holding her steady. She looks completely at ease there, curled against him, safe and unguarded in a way that makes the room feel quiet and settled.
A brief hint of jealousy tightens in my chest. It’s swift and gone almost as quickly as it shows up.
I feel like I’m missing so much.
Cass was right. Being in charge of everything is bullshit.
I ease the door shut and let it latch, the click barely audible.
I stand there for a moment with my hand still on the knob, my head crowded with too much noise.
I want to talk to my pack alpha more than anything, to get some of this chaos out of my system, but I don’t want to risk waking Gray or Tansy.
Whatever I need to say can wait until morning.
My knuckles throb once again, and I release the doorknob.
I reach my room and push my way inside. The lamp on the dresser is already on, casting a low yellow light across the space.
Beck is asleep in my bed, sprawled on his stomach with one arm flung out and his face turned into the pillow. I’m so happy he’s here.
I desperately need the comfort.
Moving carefully, I set my car keys on the dresser next to some loose change and a couple of folded receipts. Then I slip into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. The light clicks on, too bright at first. I brace my hands on the counter and look up at my reflection.
I look fucking rough.
My eyes are dark and blown out with lingering rage and adrenaline. Dark flecks of blood are splattered across my forearms and dotted along my neck.
And my hands…
I unwrap my right hand, then frown. The knuckles are split and swollen, the skin red and shiny, dried blood cracked along the creases.
Beck lets out a soft hum in the other room, and I push away from the sink. It takes me seconds to strip off the rest of my clothes.
I reach out and slide open the glass shower door. The track rasps softly as it moves, then I step inside and crank the water to scalding.
A cold spray hits me square in the chest, before slowly warming up.
I bow my head under the spray, watching red swirl down the drain, washing away the evidence of the night. Once the water is scalding, I wash my hair, then scrub my skin raw, letting the heat seep into my muscles, trying to cleanse the violence from my system before I crawl into bed next to Beck.
I desperately need to hold my sweet beta.
There’s something about his tender scent that settles something deep in my bones. Of course, I’d kill to have Tansy here as well. I’d kill to have both precious little mates beside me, snuggling and nuzzling, but Tansy isn’t ready for me yet. And that’s okay.
I’ll wait forever if that’s what she needs.
A soft creak hits my ears, and I lift my head, looking at the bathroom door. It doesn’t sound like Beck…I don’t think. But it’s hard to tell over the sound of water.
The bathroom door opens slowly, the steam curling out into the cooler bedroom air. Through the frosted shower door, I catch Tansy’s unmistakable shape.
Relief hits first.
I am fucking happy to see her, it’s almost painful, but then I instantly feel bad. Did I wake her up?
"Warren?" Tansy whispers, her voice barely audible over the spray. She clearly doesn't want to wake Beck. "Are you okay?" The glass blurs her to soft outlines and muted colors, the curve of her shoulders, the fall of a pale pink nightgown against her thighs.
"I'm fine," I whisper, then I rinse the soap from my face, wiping the water away. "I was getting in a late workout."
Tansy pauses and I hear her sniff the air. "I can smell blood," she says softly. I can’t see the details of her face, but it looks like she’s staring right at me. "It's…strong."
While her sense of smell isn’t nearly as good as an alpha’s, there’s no sense denying it.
"Oh," I scramble for a decent excuse. "I, uh... I cut myself on some equipment at the gym. It's nothing. A scrape."
“Really?” She doesn’t sound convinced. “Can I see it?” she asks quietly.
I hesitate, water beating down over my shoulders, steam filling the space between us. My instincts are pulling in two directions at once. Part of me wants to suck it up and command her to go back to bed.
The other part of me wants to wrap my arms around her and feel her lush warmth against me.
“Warren?”
The sound of my name on her lips does it for me.
I turn the water off. The sudden quiet makes everything sharper. I slide the glass door open and step out, the water dripping from my skin onto the bath mat.
Tansy is standing right there. Her dark red hair is rumpled from sleep, strands sticking out at odd angles, her eyes wide as she takes me in.
Her gaze immediately drops, sweeping down my chest and abs before landing squarely on my cock.
I watch her face flush a deep crimson red as her eyes go wide, before she looks away.
A swift, satisfied thrill moves through me.
Seeing her react like that, all shy and flustered, makes the tension in my chest loosen. For a moment, I don't feel like a monster who beat a man to death. I feel like an alpha who has his omega's full attention.
“S-sorry,” Tansy clears her throat roughly as she reaches for a towel, thrusting it toward me. Her gaze darts toward the far wall, then my cock, then the floor, and back again.
I can’t help but smile as I dry myself off.
I keep my eyes on her face, on the way her ears have gone pink and how she keeps shifting her weight like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Every time she risks a glance in my direction, she catches me already watching and snaps her eyes away again.
It’s fucking adorable.
“Alright,” I say as I wrap the towel around my hips, tucking it in securely. When I look up, Tansy is looking right at me. Really looks. Her cheeks are still pink, but her eyes are steady now.
“Can I see where you cut yourself?” she asks softly.
I nod and lift my hand for her. She steps closer, carefully taking my hand in hers. Her brows draw together as she takes it in, the cuts, the swelling, the way the skin is already bruising. The concern on her face does something to me that nothing else tonight has managed.
“This isn’t a scrape,” Tansy says softly.
“I know,” I admit.
She looks up at me, her brows pulled together in confusion. I want to pull her in. I want to tell her everything that happened tonight, and nothing all at once. I want to tell her that the fucker that touched her is dead and rotting in a hole, six feet deep in the middle of the woods.
But instead, I smile and shrug. “What can I say? I’m clumsy.”
She lets out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Okay,” she says, nodding toward the toilet. “Sit for me.”
I do as I am told, lowering myself onto the lid and keeping my injured hand held out for the omega like I am waiting to be inspected. She watches me sit, then turns and crouches in front of the sink cabinet, rummaging through it.
As she moves, her scent curls into the space between us, warm and sweet. Honey and earthy tea leaves. It settles something deep in my chest, settling every fiber in my body.
I hear bottles shift, something clinks against porcelain.
“What are you looking for?” I ask.
“There,” she says, straightening up with a small bottle in her hand. Rubbing alcohol.
“I didn’t even know that was in there,” I admit.
She glances back at me, a corner of her mouth lifting. “Beck told me there’s a little first-aid kit in every bathroom,” she says as she squints back under my sink. “But I’m not seeing your kit.” She holds up the bottle. “All you’ve got is this and a few Band-Aids.”
“That tracks,” I say with a fond smile.
Beck does things like that. He gets these short bursts where he decides something needs to be handled immediately and all at once. He will disappear for an afternoon and come back with bags of supplies and a very specific plan.
Every bathroom gets a kit.
Every shelf gets labeled.
Every drawer gets reorganized down to the inch.
Then his energy burns off as fast as it showed up.
“I’m sure he assembled the kits,” I say confidently, “but then half of them never made it where they were supposed to go.”
Tansy giggles and reaches for my hand again, turning it carefully as she gets to work on my knuckles. She tips the alcohol onto a washcloth and dabs at my cuts. It stings sharply, but I don’t flinch or pull away. I keep my hand in hers and let her do what she needs to do.
“Beck was so excited when we ordered me clothes the other day,” she says, smiling down at what she is doing. “He got really excited and ended up ordering way too much.”
I glance up at the omega as she motions vaguely to herself with her chin, and only then do I really take in the nightgown.
The bathroom light catches the thin fabric, rendering it almost sheer against her skin.
I can see the heavy swell of her breasts, the soft curve pressing against the material, and the dark peaks of her nipples are perfectly visible through the pale pink.
It’s obscene how good she looks, standing there in something so innocent yet revealing.
My mouth goes dry, and my cock gives a treacherous twitch, reminding me I’m naked under my towel. I have to clench my jaw to keep myself together, to stop from reaching out and ripping the flimsy thing off her.
“That’s new,” I say, more statement than question, forcing my voice to stay steady.
Her cheeks warm again. “Yeah. It just came today.”
Something tight twists in my chest, mild and familiar. “Sorry,” I say quietly. “I should have noticed.”
She looks up at me then, quick and surprised. “Hey. It’s okay.” Her thumb brushes my wrist, reassuring me without thinking about it. “You were busy today.”
One more thing I missed.
“For what it’s worth,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper, “the nightgown is very lovely.”
Tansy pauses, a band-aid in her hand, and looks at me through her lashes. The smile she gives me is so small and sweet.
“Thank you,” she whispers, softly. Then she smooths the bandage over my cut.
Something in my chest pulls tight at the look on her face.
I want so badly to reach for her. To draw her in and wrap her up against me. I want to press my face into the curve of her neck and breathe her in until the world makes sense again.
“Warren?” she whispers, those big brown eyes looking right at me. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”
And my heart melts.