Making Breakfast
Beck
I have pancakes going on the stove. The real kind.
Not the frozen crap Grason eats like it’s a food group.
The batter spreads thick and uneven in the pan, bubbles forming slowly at the surface before popping with soft little sighs.
I slip the spatula under the edges as they start to set, turning that perfect shade of golden brown that tells me it’s almost time to flip.
Cass stands at the kitchen island behind me, his cane leaning against the counter, cutting up fruit. Apples. Bananas. Strawberries.
“Alright, Beck.” He sets down his knife. “All done.”
I glance over my shoulder right as he steps away from the island. His movement is so much better than it was a few days ago. There’s still a hitch in his stride, but it’s getting better every day.
“This looks good.” Cass hums as he steps up behind me. His body is warm at my back as he wraps his arms around my waist. “Hmmm, delicious.”
“Hopefully, they’re good.” I lean into him, my shoulders loosening. “It’s been a while since we did pancakes.”
“I wasn’t talking about the food.” Cass presses a kiss to the side of my neck, right over his mating bite, nipping my skin lightly with his teeth.
I gasp softly when his hand slides under the hem of my shirt, his palm warm and rough against my stomach. He drifts upward, his fingers tracing the ridges of my ribs until his hand is splayed flat against my chest, right over my heart.
His touch is possessive and grounding, his thumb brushing gently back and forth over my skin as he kisses my neck.
“You’re gonna make me burn breakfast,” I say, tilting my head to give him better access.
Cass’s mouth lingers for a second, then he exhales against my skin. “I missed you last night,” he says quietly.
That stops me short in the best way. I glance up at the alpha over my shoulder.
“I think that you should start sleeping in my room again,” he says. “With Tansy and me. I hate the idea of you sleeping all alone in your room.”
“You are too sweet, Cassian Vexler,” I say as I turn fully toward him, the spatula still clutched in my hand.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in, careful of his balance.
“But I haven’t been alone. I’ve been sleeping with Gray or Warren.
Sometimes both.” I give him a playful wink, making him smile.
“You are a good mate.” He kisses my lips.
“Yes,” I nod firmly. “I am.” Then I turn back to my pancakes, flipping them before they can burn.
“I don’t want you to feel neglected.” Cass’s hands linger on my waist.
“And I don’t,” I say honestly.
Cass exhales slowly behind me and presses his forehead to the back of my shoulder for a moment, like he’s letting that answer settle. His grip loosens, thumbs brushing my sides in a quiet, reassuring sweep.
“Plus,” I add gently, “it’s important for omegas to bond with their alphas. Especially in the beginning. Tansy needs time with you guys more than she needs—”
“No.” Cass cuts me off. His fingers slide under my chin, forcing me to look away from the stove and up into his dark blue eyes.
He looks angry. “You are as much a part of this pack as any alpha,” he says, voice steady and unmistakably serious.
His brow knits as he holds my gaze. “I never want to hear you say you’re less important. Do you understand?”
Thick emotion squeezes my throat, and I blink. “Okay.”
"I mean it, Beck," Cass’s tone drops to that dark, possessive register that makes my knees weak. "You’re sleeping with Tansy and me tonight.” He releases my chin right as his other hand lands in a sharp, stinging slap against my ass, making my body jerk forward slightly. “No arguments.”
I gasp, the spatula clattering against the pan. “Hey!”
But Cass doesn’t even apologize. The brute just kisses my shoulder before smiling down at me.
I grin despite myself. “Go away before I burn everything.”
The alpha gives my waist a quick squeeze, then he steps back. “I’ll set the table,” he murmurs, then he starts rummaging through the cabinets.
I plate the pancakes, then add the last of the batter to my pan when Grason shuffles into the room.
He’s barefoot and rumpled in the most adorable way.
All he’s wearing is a pair of pajama pants that sit low on his hips, giving me a full view of his impressive chest. He looks half feral, curls sticking out in every direction like he lost a fight with a pillow.
“Morning,” Cass says as he makes his way toward the little dinette. He has his cane steady in one hand and a stack of plates topped with silverware balanced in the other.
Grason grunts something that might qualify as a greeting as he looks around the room, his brow pinching like he’s looking for someone. “Where’s Tansy?” He turns back to me.
“Funny you should ask that,” I say, flipping the pancakes a little too early, making raw batter smear across the pan, but I don’t care.
"So I slept in Warren’s bed last night.” A wild grin spreads across my face.
"I went to sleep all alone, but when I woke up, Warren and Tansy were tangled around each other, sound asleep, and,” I pause for dramatic effect, “they were completely naked.”
Cass turns toward me, his mouth slightly open with surprise.
But it’s a good surprise. After all, Tansy has bonded with the whole pack…
except me. But, despite what Cass says, that doesn’t really matter.
Omegas need a physical connection with their alphas to feel loved and settled.
They need an emotional bond with their betas, and I’m pretty confident she and I have become fast friends.
“Good for them.” Grason lets out a low laugh, but then his smile shifts, turning a little wicked.
“Wait…” he steps up next to me, glancing at the pancakes, then at my face, “Did they fuck right there in bed with you? Because Warren’s pretty loud when he comes. How the hell did that not wake you up?”
Cass snorts loudly, then shakes his head as he turns back to setting the table.
“Stop it,” I scold Grason, but the jerkwad doesn’t let up.
"That’s…wow, Beck," he says, leaning against the counter. "Sleeping through an alpha rutting an omega is crazy impressive. You must have been completely dead to the world."
"I guess I was just exhausted," I plate the last of the pancakes. They aren’t as golden brown as the rest, but they’ll still get eaten. "Or maybe they tried to be quiet because they’re polite." I look him up and down. “Unlike you.”
That makes Grason smile even wider.
“Grab the bacon, please.” I pick up the plate, then pass the tall alpha.
I set the platter down on the table and reach for my chair, but Cass beats me to it. He pulls it out smoothly. I give him a sweet smile and sit, feeling stupidly pleased as he nudges the chair in behind me.
Grason’s just about to drop into the seat across from us when footsteps sound in the hallway.
I look up in time to see Warren and Tansy step into the kitchen together.
They pause for half a second in the doorway, like they’re orienting themselves to the room.
Tansy is swallowed up in one of Warren’s old hoodies, dark and oversized, the sleeves hanging past her hands. Her dark red curls are everywhere, loose and unruly, like she didn’t bother taming them at all before coming out.
Behind her, Warren looks tired but proud, his posture loose. He’s in a pair of black gym shorts and nothing else. It’s the first time I haven't seen the alpha in a suit first thing in the morning in a while.
Hope flickers in my chest, praying that means he’s not working today.
I miss him so much. It feels like he’s gone all the time now, and seeing him like this makes something inside me settle.
“Well,” Grason says with a teasing lift in his voice. “Look who decided to join us.”
“Good morning, you two,” Cass's smile shifts to something softer as it lands on Tansy. “Hungry?”
“Yes, please,” she says, shuffling toward the table.
But I immediately panic when I realize there are four chairs and five of us.
Cass must notice too because he pats his good leg, then opens his arms. “Come here, omega.”
Tansy settles into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She tucks her legs in and leans back against his chest, the hoodie bunching up around her waist. Cass’s hand rests easily at her hip.
Everyone else settles and digs in.
Plates are passed. Coffee is poured. Pancakes disappear faster than I expect. The boys talk about fixing a broken panel in the garage while Tansy and I try to decide what movie we’re going to watch later.
It’s noisy in a good way: forks clinking, Grason inhaling everything, and Cass reminding him to slow down.
“How about a horror movie?” I ask while watching Tansy cut up her pancake.
I really love the way she moves. The way she holds her fork, dips her bite in syrup, then slips it into her mouth.
“I do love a good horror movie,” she says. “Especially when the death scenes are funny.” Her brow pinches when she sees me staring at her. “What?” she asks, a little self-conscious. “Do I have something on my face?” She touches her cheek.
“No.” I laugh, forcing myself to look away. “You’re fine.”
She wipes her mouth just in case. “You’re staring,” she says, clearly still worried she’s a mess.
“I just like watching you eat,” I mumble, a little embarrassed. “It’s like a dance.”
“A dance?” She laughs, shaking her head. “God, I wish dancing were as easy as eating. I probably would’ve attended the extra practices if it was.”
Grason perks up at that. “You dance?”
Tansy nods. “Yeah. Ballet. For almost twenty-years now.” She takes another bite of pancake. “Since I was eight.”
Warren’s eyebrows lift, impressed. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” she says, smiling. “I was never good enough, or thin enough,” she adds with an eye roll, “to be a prima ballerina or anything like that. But my dance instructor said I have a lot of natural talent. I always got decent roles.”