Chapter 10 Winnie
Winnie
The entry to Bee Haven is stunning. The entire thing is shaped like an oversized farmhouse on the outside, and the décor is vintage French countryside—but the arched ceilings, oversized windows, and accents add enough glamour to remind you it’s a resort for the posh and famous without being tacky about it.
I veer to the right, where another large arch leads me into the restaurant Snow Rose.
The delectable smells of food are drowned out by a set of scents—deep, rich, and overwhelming to my omega.
They’re coffee and jasmine and clove and citrus.
Once again, I can’t help but feel I made a bad choice by not doing this meeting in private.
The last thing I need is a complete omega meltdown in the middle of Sunny’s alphas’ resort and Rose’s alphas’ restaurant.
Speaking of my friends’ alphas, several are not-so-subtly watching from the sidelines. Logan and Evander, two of Rose’s alphas, stand by the host stand pretending to chat. Hunt, Sunny’s alpha, is sitting at a table eating. And Victor, one of Clara’s alphas, is openly glaring into the dining room.
They obviously weren’t going to let their omegas near a pack with a member who bit without permission. And my friends weren’t letting me go alone. So now they’re here to watch too. I spot the girls: Cali, Sunny, Clara, and Rose sit nearby with menus in hand, clearly not reading a word.
I follow Victor’s gaze to a table next to my friends.
There, a group of four alphas sit. On one side, I see Zeke in a black shirt that's stretched across his chest. His brown hair flops over his forehead, and even from here his beautiful green eyes cut—though they haven’t found me yet.
The other alpha I saw in my hospital room is at the table too.
A light blue T-shirt contrasts against his dark brown skin.
I take a moment to drink him in: the stubble along his jaw enhances his strong features; muscular arms cross over his chest; he looks distinctly unhappy to be here.
The other two alphas are a mystery to me. One has a stubbled jaw, and light brown skin. His physique is lean but muscled, and his wavy black hair practically begs for my fingers.
The other… well, I have no idea what he looks like because he’s wearing a mask.
It's a biker mask—eyes visible, everything below the nose covered by a skull print. Beyond his eyes, I can’t see anything: black beanie, leather jacket despite the warm restaurant, black gloves on his hands.
His silver-blue eyes remind me of ice, sending a little shiver through me.
“Hey, you okay?” a deep voice asks behind me.
I turn to find Corbin. He’s more dressed up than I’ve ever seen him—in a white collared shirt and slacks. A far cry from the sheriff’s uniform.
“I think so,” I say, sounding small even to my own ears.
He hesitates only a moment before reaching out. I let him pull me into his arms, relishing the feel of being encased in hard muscle and letting the world outside this embrace fade away.
I breathe in his scent—cedar and leather—before pulling back. “Are you okay?” I ask. He glances toward the alpha table behind me and then he finds my eyes again.
“I am if you are.”
“Listen, is it okay if I talk to them alone first? I’m glad you came, but—with how complicated this is already—”
“—you’d like to get to know them without the past casting a bigger cloud over the situation,” he finishes for me. There’s not a trace of hurt in his voice, but I still feel bad. It’s essentially correct, so I nod.
He takes my hand and squeezes gently, as if the idea of being parted from me, even temporarily, is so unacceptable he needs one more touch. “That’s fine, Sweetheart. I’ll be right over here.” He walks back to the entry and takes a seat on one of the plush waiting couches.
I watch him for a moment, then turn, take a deep breath, and walk into the dining room.
Logan nods as I pass. I offer a weak smile.
This is going to be awkward and, in my opinion, unnecessary.
Corbin wouldn’t let anything happen to me.
He wouldn’t let me meet alphas he thought were dangerous.
But I know my friends. There's no way they were letting me meet with a pack that included an alpha who bit me. Even if I bit him too. Even with the sheriff. That’s just not their way.
Zeke’s head snaps up—probably sensing my internal shift when I decide to approach the table.
The other alphas notice his focus and look to me.
The subtle rise and fall of their chests, flare of their nostrils, telling me that they scent me.
My friends and their alphas are clearly watching, and I feel very much like a goldfish in a bowl.
I try to push it aside, but Zeke makes eye contact, and I feel his understanding reflect back through the bond—clear and soothing.
He stands as I reach the table and pulls my chair out.
His scent, Oranges with just a little metal underlining it, pulls at my core.
I finally get a chance to really study him.
At the club everything had gone so fast and at the hospital I'd been too upset.
His arms and the visible skin below his chin is covered with color, abstract images and wild fantasy, there's a sword, a mountain, swirls that might be magic.
I'm mesmerized by them. I want to see how far they go down.
“Thanks,” I murmur, tucking the skirt of my dress under me.
Picking what to wear for this strange meeting was agony, but I chose a dress I feel comfortable in.
A long A-line with a sweetheart bodice covered in little flowers.
Dresses are my go-to. Not tie-dye like Clara’s, but with anything soft, flowing, and pink my wallet is always in danger.
Zeke sits. The other three alphas stare at me, all visibly on edge. The one with wavy, perfect hair sniffs the air. The one in the mask has his fists balled. The one from the hospital has his teeth clenched.
“Clara, this is Gage. You kind of met him at the hospital. He’s our… dominant alpha.”
Zeke hesitates on dominant alpha, and Gage clocks it with a sour look.
When he looks back to me, he’s schooled his expression and gives a quick nod.
His scent is smoke with the barest edge of jasmine.
I want to curl into that scent and never leave.
Tattoos on his arms and peeking over the neck of his shirt show gears mixed with beautiful natural imagery like birds and trees.
“This is Rafe,” Zeke adds, gesturing to the alpha with the gorgeous, wavy black hair, and light brown skin.
His arms are covered in black ink with designs etched out of his skin.
He flashes a prize-winning smile. A smile that has probably melted the panties off plenty of omegas.
His scent is black coffee with something woodsy.
It reminds me of mornings spend out in the woods near my cottage.
“I can see why you bit her, Zeke,” he says. “She’s gorgeous.”
Zeke growls, and I tense—but Rafe just laughs and waves it off. Zeke rolls his eyes and regains his composure.
“And this is Eli.” He gestures to the masked alpha. He doesn’t move in acknowledgment. “Eli’s more of the silent type,” is all Zeke offers. Eli's scent is sharp and spicy. Metal with an undercurrent of clove. I can't see any tattoos on him since he's almost completely covered.
“Miss—?” Gage starts.
“It’s Heart, but you can call me Winnie,” I say.
His mouth is a thin line. Everything about him seems tense, like he’s carrying a boulder only he can feel. “Winnie, I’m going to be fucking straight with you.”
I swallow. This doesn’t feel like it’s going great. We haven’t even been here long enough for someone to take our order. “I—”
“Welcome to Snow Rose. What can I get you fine people tonight?”
I squeak. It's an unmistakable omega sound. When I look up into Harlan’s face, one eyebrow quirked. Rose’s dominant alpha. Owner of this restaurant.
A spike of concern hits the bond; I look at Zeke and the others. They’ve all gone rigid, scents edged with challenge.
“Problem, Beauty?” Rafe asks.
I glance between him and Harlan, realizing they took my squeak as a distress signal.
“Oh no, this is Harlan. He’s a friend. Rose’s dominant alpha,” I say, gesturing to the table where my friends are unabashedly staring.
Rafe chuckles. Gage rolls his eyes.
“We were wondering why a table full of bonded omegas was staring at us,” Zeke says. “These are the friends you mentioned?”
“Yes. Harlan is also the owner of this restaurant. I didn’t think you waited tables,” I say, forcing a smile up at him.
“It’s been a while. I think I can remember,” he says.
“And if he can’t, I can manage,” a deep voice adds as Cole steps to the table.
I sigh and hang my head. “This is Cole. Sunny’s dominant alpha.” Sunny gives a bright, fake little wave from her table. “He’s also the owner of the hotel.”
Rafe leans toward Eli to stage-whisper, “Does this place seem a little incestuous to you?”
Eli, in the first display of communication he’s made all night, nods.
“Forgive us if we don’t want to leave Winnie alone with a pack that can’t even control its own members,” Harlan growls.
Zeke flinches. So does Gage. Rafe closes his eyes like he’s appeased. Eli only watches me. His gaze seems to connect directly to that lonely mating bond, and his fingers twitch as if he’s stopping himself from reaching out.
“Harlan,” I say, and his gaze reluctantly meets mine. “I appreciate it, but can you give us some space, please?”
He looks to Rose, clearly letting her decide. She nods. So does Sunny. The alphas step back; the omegas return their attention to their meals. They’re absolutely still listening. Busy bodies.
“Those are some nice friends you have,” Zeke says.
“The best. I’m sorry they’ve been so… aggressive.”
A taut silence stretches. I almost pick up my menu to see what’s available when Gage speaks.
“What do you want to do, Winnie?”