Chapter 12
BLAIR
I wake to deep vibrations in my ear, and in my disoriented state, I wonder if one of my cats somehow had an appetite stimulant.
Marlin has had them before when he stopped eating after a teeth cleaning, and it made him the most aggressive purr machine I’ve ever encountered.
There’s no reason a cat’s purr should ever be this deep or loud.
I also wonder why Mervin and Marlin suddenly weigh far more than they used to.
I crack open an eye, adjusting to the haziness of being half-awake, and am greeted by a head of dark brown hair.
Ryland lays half on top of me, his mouth nuzzled in the crook of my neck, his chest rumbling with a deep purr.
It feels exquisite and hypnotizing in a way that I haven’t experienced for years.
Part of me wants to go back to sleep, but the other part knows I need to get to work.
I somehow made myself comfy on their couch, and Ryland made himself comfy on me. Tilting my head up slightly, I can see Rowan passed out on the cushions as well, leaning his neck on the opposite armrest in a way that can’t be comfortable.
Travis dozes on the other section of the couch, his hands behind his head, his eyes closed and his brow relaxed.
The scene is peaceful, and their scents calm me.
They smell like smoke, moss, rain, and everything I’ve ever wanted.
I shift again, moving my legs from underneath Ryland carefully, trying not to wake him up.
He grumbles in his sleep and nuzzles against my mating gland, making me gasp softly. I dig my nails into his scalp, pulling lightly on his dark strands to get him to move, but he simply increases his purr.
And holy shit, does it feel good.
So good I grit my teeth and shift underneath him, my cunt throbbing at the sensation of his mouth at my mating gland.
It sends a shockwave directly to my clit, and my nipples pebble in anticipation.
Ryland, it turns out, sleeps like the dead. It takes physically shoving him off me to get him to move, and even then, he simply stirs in his slumber. Once I’m able to sit up, he reaches out for me in his sleep, letting out a groan.
I swallow and grab my phone off the coffee table as quietly as possible, careful not to wake anyone up.
Why does it feel so shameful to leave like this? It’s not like we slept together.
But last night, I was much too vulnerable.
I admitted things I never wanted to speak about again. It was physically painful to talk about them to Travis, and knowing Ryland and Rowan heard me doesn’t help at all.
They know far more about me than I was ready for them to learn, and now all my fears are exposed.
Even if they don’t believe me, the car crash is my fault.
Sighing, I check my phone.
I’ve slept for about three hours.
My back aches a little from the awkward sleeping position, but besides that, I’m more well-rested than I’ve been in a while.
“Mrow.”
A pleasant chirp sounds from the carpet, and a white kitten trots by with a toy fish in her mouth.
Her two sisters make an appearance, one jumping on Travis and curling on his chest while he sleeps.
I need to leave before the pack wakes up.
I quietly make my way off the couch and tiptoe back to the hallway bathroom. I change out of Ryland’s clothing, and into my own, ignoring the irrational pang of loss as I step out of the moss and rain scented fabric. I don’t need his scent on me, no matter how much my inner Omega insists she does.
I need to get home. I need to get ready for work and not think about the fact that I just spent the night with my scent matches.
After I brush my teeth and splash my face with water, I grab my duffel bag from the kitten room.
A mournful wail sounds in the doorway, the recognizable sound of a cat whose breakfast is more than a minute late.
Ash yowls while I sling the duffel bag over my shoulder. When I head down the hallway to the front of the house, he howls dramatically, the same way he used to do when he was at the rescue.
He’s about to wake the entire pack, and I’d rather not deal with the awkward inevitable conversations until I’ve had at least some coffee in me.
“Shh,” I whisper. “Stop.”
But he breaks the record for the longest meow, his strong lungs carrying his voice all the way toward the front room.
I let him lead me into the kitchen, placing my stuff on the kitchen island and beginning to rummage through their cupboards to find the cat food.
Ash won’t stop yelling.
I desperately whip open a cupboard and find a plethora of cat food.
There is a bag of kibble for adult cat weight loss and high protein canned wet food on the bottom shelf. On top is a giant bag of high-quality kitten food along with a large shelf-stable can of kitten milk.
I smile to myself.
Ash and the kittens are in good hands.
I do my best to quietly remove the open bag of kibble, hoping the pack slept through Ash’s hungry cries.
But when I turn around, cat food bag in hand, Rowan is standing in the kitchen, the island separating us.
I can see his brother’s features in his face, but they’re still so different. Rowan’s eyes tell a different story than Ryland’s—where Ryland’s brown eyes are confident and calm, Rowan’s icy ones are brimming with chaotic energy.
His hair is mussed from sleep, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. His dark sweatpants hang low at his hips, and the black v-neck shirt he wears shows off his lean, muscular frame.
I swallow.
“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice scratchy with sleep, and my throat goes dry. “Good morning.”
“Hey.”
His sea salt scent brings me back to the stormy ocean, blue and chaotic just like his eyes.
Rowan is the most gorgeous of the three Alphas, stunning with slightly sharper features than Ryland.
Ash doesn’t care about my ogling of Rowan. He stands on his hind legs, pressing his paws against my leggings, and lets out a dramatic sound.
“He never stops screaming,” Rowan sighs, then raises his hands in defeat. “We don’t starve him, I swear. He just always wants more food.”
I smirk. “He’s a food motivated cat. It happens a lot with rescue cats.”
“Also, he’s scamming you,” Rowan chuckles. “He usually doesn’t get fed until at least two hours from now. I don’t think any of us expected you to run out so quickly.”
His voice trails off, and I flick my eyes down at the food bag. I place it on the island, and Rowan takes it then heads to the food bowl that’s placed next to the pantry door.
The food bowl which happens to be part of our Furs and Purrs merch line.
Is there anything from the rescue’s store they don’t own?
I stand there awkwardly, taking in Rowan’s lean frame as he feeds Ash.
I should leave, now.
But something about what he said bothers me.
“I wasn’t running out,” I say evenly.
“Yeah,” Rowan replies, standing to face me. “I don’t think that’s true. You’ve barely slept three hours.”
“Well, neither have you.”
“I’m a light sleeper.” He crosses his arms, and I purposely don’t look at his strong, pale forearms. “Ryland and Travis? They sleep like the dead.” His gaze turns to my duffel bag, poised and ready to go. “At least eat something before you go. I don’t know when we’re going to see you again.”
Shame races through my system, quickly replaced by fury.
“You do a great job of making a woman feel guilty,” I snap. An irrational sense of anger flares in me.
I don’t owe the three of them anything. Yes, we’re scent matches, but so what?
I was doing fine before them. I was.
I only stayed here because of the storm.
“And you do a good job of running away from shit you don’t want to deal with,” Rowan says.
My mouth falls open.
The nerve, the gall to say this to me…
“You don’t know me as well as you think,” I whisper. I round the corner and reach for my duffel bag, but Rowan tugs it out of my reach. He cocks his head slightly and watches me carefully, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“Why did you avoid my brother after you met him?”
My mouth twists into an ugly shape. “I—”
“Why did you stop talking to Travis? Why are you running?”
I grab for the duffel again, but he yanks it away from me, gripping the handle tightly.
“I’m not running,” I hiss.
“You are. If it wasn’t for the storm, you would have been long gone by now.”
“Give me my bag.” I round the island and reach for it, but he simply pulls away again, and I almost stumble into his stupid, chiseled chest.
“Tell me why you’re running.”
“Is this how you get what you want? Doing something like this?” I whisper-yell. Rowan’s packmates still haven’t woken up, but I’m starting to wonder if that’s the better option.
“Well, I can’t physically restrain you, now can I?” he smirks.
I ignore the flutter in my stomach and the way my womb cramps slightly at his words.
“Rowan,” I sigh, giving up my struggle. “I’m not ready to have some giant heart-to-heart with you about my life, okay? I barely know you. You heard more than enough last night. I won’t…I can’t go into that anymore. And I’m really fucking tired.”
He blinks, then his grip on my bag slackens. I yank it out of his grip, pleased that I caught him off guard.
He looks me up and down, taking in my black tank top and wrinkled leggings. “Have breakfast with me,” he says, and I balk. Before I can reply, he holds up a hand to halt my response. “We have smoked salmon and bagels,” he says quickly. “And avocados.”
I pause. “Yeah?”
It’s possible Travis told them what my favorite breakfast food is.
Actually, I’m sure that’s what he did.
“And lemon. And fresh dill,” Rowan adds. “With capers, too.”
“That’s…entirely too specific,” I say.
He shrugs. “I may have had intel about your food preferences”
At his terrible attempt at a joke, I huff.
“Look,” he says. “I don’t know how to do any of this. At all.” He motions to himself, then to me. “All I know is that you’re here now, and I don’t want you to go.”
His eyes swim with emotion, his expression full of longing and vulnerability.
“When Ryland told us about you, I wasn’t sure if I would ever even meet you,” he admits. “I didn’t know if Travis would ever act on the year-long crush he’s had on you. They told me to stay away from you and to give you time.”
My mind skids to a halt.
Travis had a crush on me for a year?
A year?
And they told Rowan to…
“They told you to stay away from me?” I ask, frowning.
He nods.
I shake my head. “Wait. Why?”
“They didn’t want to push you. They thought maybe you weren’t ready.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded.
“Not ready?” I repeat.
“Not ready to know about me, or that we were all in a pack. They thought it might be too hard for you based on your reaction to Ryland.”
I take a step back from Rowan, my mouth twisted into horror.
I knew Travis thought it was a good idea, but to imagine him and Ryland scheming to make sure Rowan didn’t try to see me makes me furious.
I’m not fragile. I’m not some broken person that needs decisions made for her.
I make my own decisions.
“I’m not a helpless child,” I seethe.
He nods. “I know you’re not. So don’t leave yet. Have some fucking salmon with me.”
I choke out a humorless laugh. “That’s the first time anyone has ever asked me that,” I say.
His gaze softens, but the fire doesn’t leave his eyes. His sea salt and rain scent soothes me, and I start to wonder why I even wanted to leave in the first place.
So, I drop my bag back on the floor. “Are they everything bagels?” I ask.
He grins.