Slow Hours
Mack
I've been sitting on this porch since sometime around midnight, but the sun's finally starting to come up over the rooftops. I'm in nothing but my gym shorts, bare feet up on the rail. The morning air is cold enough to raise the hair on my arms. I don't mind it, though.
In fact, I kinda needed the cold.
I was going out of my mind last night.
The house was filled with the wild scent of omega slick, and it grew thicker and sweeter by the hour. Every lungful of it had my hand itching to rip Nico’s bedroom door clean off the hinges.
So I came out here. Figured the porch was the safest place for me, especially since Adrian was still tied up in the garage. He still is…
It's been a long night.
But it's peaceful now. The sky's going from gray to that soft peach color, birds are waking up in the dogwood, and down the block the neighborhood's old-timers are already out doing their morning laps.
Mrs. Petrakis is shuffling along the sidewalk in her little lavender tracksuit, arms pumping, her ancient beagle waddling three feet behind her.
She lifts a hand when she sees me.
"Morning, Mack."
"Mornin', Miss Ellie." I dip my chin at her.
"How's that boyfriend of yours? Adrian." She slows but doesn't stop, marching in place practically. "I rarely see you two apart. Is everything okay?"
"We’re good, ma'am. Adrian’s just a little under the weather." Which is one way to put it. "How's Biscuit doing? That hip any better?"
Miss Ellie glances down at her beagle. "Oh, the vet's got him on a pill now. Costs more than my blood pressure medicine." She's already moving again, tracksuit swishing. "You boys have a good one."
"You too, Miss Ellie."
She pumps her arms on down the sidewalk, Biscuit laboring along behind, and I watch the two of them go with something almost like envy. Simple morning. Simple dog. Simple life where the biggest problem is your dog’s bum hip.
A shiny black SUV rolls past the house, sunlight sliding off tinted windows and paint so clean it looks wet.
We don't get cars like that in this neighborhood.
Out here it's all dented trucks and hand-me-down sedans, and Miss Ellie's ancient wagon. Not a forty-grand blacked-out Suburban. I watch the damn thing, not taking my eyes off it until it turns down the corner.
I sit there, frozen in place, trying to figure out if I should be worried or not.
Then a familiar rattletrap sedan comes around the corner sounding like a coffee can full of bolts, and any hope I had of a quiet morning dies right there.
Renata swings her little car into the gravel, driving too fast. Her old car shudders to a stop with a groan.
The driver’s side door pops open and the she-alpha unfolds out of it, dark hair piled on top of her head, and a small duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
There are a pair of pink Converse high-tops balanced on top like she just grabbed the whole armful and ran.
She squints at me over the roof of the car.
"Why are you sitting out here half-naked at six in the morning?"
"Could ask you the same thing." I roll my shoulders. "Well. The half-naked part's mine. What’s up, Ren?"
"Came to get the girl." She hip-checks the car door shut and hikes the duffel higher.
"Nico called me last night. Said things were getting a little too serious over here and I needed to come take the omega off his hands for a while.
" She jerks her chin at the house. "So. Where is she? I brought her some clothes."
I look at Renata, then back at the house behind me, at all that heavy sweet smell still rolling out from under the door. I can’t help but think about what I heard through the walls at around two in the morning.
I let out a low whistle through my teeth.
"Well, Ren." I scratch the back of my neck. "I'm gonna go ahead and tell you now, so you don't get your hopes up. That girl ain't going anywhere."
Renata's brows pull together. She crosses the yard, boots crunching in the gravel, and climbs the porch steps to lean her hip against the railing beside me. Up close I can see she didn't sleep much either. There's a crease between her eyebrows that only shows up when she's chewing on something.
"Is she okay?" she asks, quieter now. "The omega. Lyra." She sets the duffel down by her feet. "Nico made it sound like a whole thing on the phone. I've been worried about her all night. In fact, I almost came by to get her last night."
I let a slow smile spread across my face.
"Worried, huh?" I tip my head at her. "Ren Cruz. You got yourself a little soft spot for our omega?"
"Don't." She points a finger at me. "She's a sweet kid who got dealt a shit hand. That's it." The glare she gives me could strip paint. "I’m trying to do you guys a favor."
"Uh-huh." I hold my hands up, grinning.
She keeps glaring, so I let it drop and turn my eyes out to the yard instead.
The sun's climbing now, gilding the terracotta pots along the rail, throwing long shadows off the sun-catchers. Down the block, Miss Ellie turns the corner, heading toward the park. We’re all alone, for the moment.
I blow out a breath.
"Yesterday was kind of nuts." I keep my voice low, worried that someone might still overhear.
"We all got home yesterday and the whole house was drowned in Lyra’s scent.
It was thick." I give Renata a pointed look, letting her know I’m not exaggerating.
"Thicker than anything I've smelled in my life, and I've smelled a few things.
" I shake my head. "Anyway, the second Adrian scented it, he just…
.lost it. The alpha was gone. We had to wrestle him down and tie him to the workbench out in the garage before he tore the house apart trying to get to her. "
Renata stops dead against the railing, her eyes going wide.
"Once Adrian was handled, we went to go check on Lyra, and..." I trail off as the memory of last night swirls in my head.
I see Lyra, laid out in the middle of Nico and Owen's bed. Her perky tits on full display beneath that thin white shirt, her legs parted, and slick dripping out of her. It pooled into a wet spot on the sheets beneath her hips. Waiting for one of us to come in and lap it all up.
My cock stirs inside my shorts at the memory, thickening fast, and I have to shift in my chair, and cross one ankle over the other before it turns into a whole situation.
"And?" Renata leans in, trying to get me to finish the story.
I clear my throat.
"And yeah," I say a little too loudly. "Long story short, we have an omega now. I’m pretty sure Nico put his mark on her, and there ain't a force on God's green earth gonna pry her out of this house now."
Renata's mouth drops open.
For a second, she stares at me, blinking, like the words are taking their time getting from her ears to her brain. Then her gaze slowly moves to the front door. She looks at it like she can see straight through the wood to the other side.
"Ese pendejo," she breathes. Then, harsher, hissed low so it won't carry: "I can’t believe he mated her." She drags both hands back over her hair. "What a fucking idiot."
"Yeah." I scratch the beard along my jaw, but I don’t entirely agree. Lyra is simply…amazing. Keeping her is worth any risk.
But I don’t say that out loud.
"The fucking Van Houtens are probably turning this whole city upside down looking for her." Ren crosses her arms, still glaring at the door.
"Probably." I suck in a deep breath of cool morning air. "But I’m not so sure they’re looking."
Renata’s dark eyes move to me, clearly not believing that.
"It’s been a month," I say plainly. "If they wanted to find her, it would be done by now."
"Yeah, I guess." Renata’s eyes narrow, and she tilts her head like she’s just thought of something. "Or maybe..." A crease settles between her brows, thinking.
"Maybe what?"
"Last summer, there was this omega from one of those old-money families, richer than God.
" The she-alpha leans against the railing as she settles into her story.
"She was snatched right off the street downtown in broad daylight.
Some alpha dragged her off and mated her against her will before anybody could do a damn thing. Do you know what her family did?"
"Kill him," I say, because it’s what I would do. "Had him strung up and gutted."
"Nothing." Renata's tone goes sharp. "They did nothing.
" Her mouth pulls into an angry line. "As it turned out, challenging the alpha’s claim would have meant paying the asshole a settlement to return her.
And they weren't willing to spend the money on a daughter they considered damaged goods.
" Her face twists up, like the words taste bitter.
"So they let the claim stand, removed her from the will, told the press she'd left willingly, then went on with their lives like their daughter never existed.
" She grits her teeth. "It was cheaper to lose a daughter than to pay to keep one. "
Something cold turns over in my gut. "How do you know that?"
"Because she went public." Renata lets out an angry breath.
"Once the mating settled, the omega wrote about the whole thing online.
It went viral, and she gave a string of interviews afterward.
And the crazy part is that she wasn't angry at the alpha at all.
She said she'd fallen in love with him, and that they were happy together.
" Her jaw tightens. "It was her parents she went after.
She told anyone who would listen exactly what kind of people her family really was. "
"Rich people are fuckin' evil," I say quietly.
"Some of 'em." Renata's dark eyes cut to the door again. "Well, most of 'em."
But as horrible as it is, I find myself hoping down to my bones that Lyra's parents are the exact same kind of evil. That they'll decide she's not worth the trouble. That they'll write her out and walk away and never come looking. Because then, Lyra gets to stay.
And she gets to be happy.
Renata's quiet for a while, just looking at the damn front door. Then she turns to me, that dark stare of hers going soft around the edges.