REN
Ren
I kissed Mackenzie’s shoulder before sitting up, knowing I wouldn’t wake her. She and Theo were purring, all sated in that post-heat crash. I held out my hand to Justice.
"Come cuddle."
He stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, chewing on a nail.
"I don't want to wake them," he said softly.
I smiled, hand still extended. Justice didn't move, just continued to stand there, tension radiating from every inch of his body.
"They need sleep," he insisted.
My hand remained out. He didn't take it. His mind was clearly off crunching data somewhere.
"It's small... dark," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
I slid out of bed, careful not to disturb the omegas. There was barely enough light to see the neatly folded stacks of clothes on top of the dresser. He must have been awake for a while and couldn’t resist the urge to make order out of the mess of discarded clothes. I shook out my jeans and handed him his linen pants. He followed me out onto the deck and turned his face up to the moonless sky. The stars were a riot overhead, countless pinpricks of light reflecting on the water. It was still warm, but there was a breeze. Justice couldn't seem to catch his breath.
I sat on the edge of the boat and snagged the drawstring of his pants, pulling him to me, between my spread legs. It took him a second to tear his eyes from the stars.
"Are you real?" he asked, breathing hard.
"We probably should have had that conversation, huh?" He stood close but not touching me, like there was an invisible barrier between us.
"Is Theo okay?" His eyes wouldn't settle on anything, darting around like he was searching for threats.
"Ultimately, yes," I said, keeping my voice steady.
"Ultimately," he repeated, testing the word.
"There's something... off," I said. I wanted to say "there is something seriously wrong," but he wasn't in a space for that. Theo would be fine, but we'd have to figure out what that was about. Heat shouldn’t be that painful. And it should have lasted much longer. My chest got tight. My teeth weren’t in him yet, but it didn’t matter. Theo was mine. Ours. The way his body fought against what should have been natural, worried me. Something had happened to him, or was happening to him. Suppressants most likely. Whatever it was, we’d deal with it.
"He's mine?" Justice asked, vulnerability cracking through his usually controlled facade.
"Yes." I leaned my knee into his thigh, giving him an anchor. "I'm yours too." I tilted my head, hoping there was enough light for him to see the bite mark. He did. He fixated on it and stepped closer. I ran my knuckles up the front of his thighs.
"Does it hurt?"
"No."
"Are you lying?" He touched the bite mark tentatively, like he was afraid it might vanish under his fingers.
"Never," I said, then corrected myself. "Again. Never again."
He finally met my eyes. "I've missed you." The words were simple but carried fifteen years of weight.
I didn't realize I was crying until he cupped my face and wiped a tear before it stained my cheek.
"I think you need sleep, love. You'll feel better wrapped around your omegas."
He shook his head and then looked back into the yacht." That's selfish," he murmured. Selfish? I frowned. What did that mean? He turned back to me like he just had a thought.
"Hey. Are you in danger?"
"Not at the moment." I kept my tone light, not wanting to burden him with Gaston and Catherine, not tonight.
"I'll fix it," he nodded and closed his eyes, determination settling over his features.
I stood with my hands on his hips and walked him backwards a few paces. There was a wide sofa for taking in the views. I flung pillows aside, leaving one for our heads. I resisted the urge to push him down and cover him with my body. He always needed to be on the side closest to the door. He wasn’t quite spinning out, and I didn’t want to push him closer to the edge. I climbed on the sofa, pulling him by the wrist until we were both lying on our backs staring up at the stars.
I closed my eyes and swallowed down the need to wrap around him and apologize over and over. Words felt hollow. He just gave me a lifetime to prove it to him with action. I breathed in his scent. It was clean and fresh. And he felt... prickly. I could feel him, and not just next to me, but in me, around me. His aura seeping into mine.
He huffed a laugh. Then another. And more. It wasn't a funny-ha-ha laugh. It was disbelief, maybe.
"We're pack mates," he said like he'd just realized it.
I rolled onto my side and stared at his gorgeous profile. More angular now. There was a tiny scar by his ear that hadn't been there when I had first memorized his every feature.
"We are. This might come as a shock, you're pack lead too."
He turned his head to me. His eyes were dark, a little bit glassy. He rolled over to face me and traced my lips with his fingertips.
"Are we going to kill Daryl?"
The question hit me hard. She was mine. Ours. My bite would mark her for life. What I was feeling now, it wasn’t white knight shit where the hero goes off on a noble crusade. This was primal, licking blood off your fingertips kind of primal. I wanted to tell Justice we'd do more than kill him. We'd destroy his world first.
But that wasn't my call to make. Not alone.
"That's up to you... Alpha."
I felt the word ring through his aura. Something flashed in his eyes. Something hard and dangerous. I smiled. He nodded.
"We're going to be okay," he said to convince himself.
He pushed on my shoulder, laying me flat and wrapped himself around my chest, burying his head in my neck. Our legs tangled.
"I'm so tired," he mumbled.
I traced lazy circles on his lower back. I could feel him drift off. Feel him. His aura went from prickly to silk.
"Mine," he whispered into my neck.
I listened to Justice's breathing even out, feeling his chest rise and fall against mine. His trust felt like a gift I hadn't earned, not yet. I would have given anything for this moment. Now that I had it, the weight of it threatened to crush me.
The pack bond burned between us. It was… freaky. I could always figure out what Justice was feeling but now… I felt it. Concern and confusion had swirled around him, messy like tie-dye. Now, I could sense his exhaustion easing, and beneath it? Contentment maybe? Hope? It had been a lifetime since I felt that myself, it was hard to recognize.
In my weak and pathetic moments, I’d allow myself to imagine a reunion. I’d beg on my knees and he would always walk away. I had no dreams or hopes a happily ever after, and now it was here. Nothing had prepared me for this—Justice wrapped around me like I was his anchor, not his betrayer.
The waves lapped gently against the yacht. I adjusted my position slightly to make Justice more comfortable. He murmured something unintelligible. This was familiar territory—me staying awake while he slept, keeping watch over him like when we were kids.
Tomorrow, we'd have to deal with Gaston and Catherine. Gaston was too dumb to realize he was beaten. Tomorrow, we'd have to figure out what was wrong with Theo's heat. Tomorrow, we'd have to discuss what Justice wants to do about Daryl.
But tonight? Tonight is mine, and this is all I want.