Dreaming #3
Horror slices through me, and I’m suddenly hit with the urge to wrap both of them up in my arms and never let go.
"I'm so sorry," I say softly as I place my hand on top of his. "I know what it's like living in a house with someone like that. It’s not easy."
Adrian turns his hand over under mine, slow, until our palms meet and his fingers thread through mine. When he looks up at me, his blue-gray eyes have gone glassy, and there's something breaking open in his face, like the fact that I understand is almost harder than pity would have been.
"I'm sorry, too," Adrian says, his eyes holding mine.
Moving slowly, he lifts his free hand and brushes his fingertips along my jaw, slowly tilting my face up to his. My heart is racing again as he traces the curve of my cheek, then the edge of my bottom lip, feather-light, and I go still under it.
"You're safe now," he says, his voice slipping into a whisper. "No one's ever going to make you feel like that again."
Heat and emotion bloom in my chest under the weight of the alpha's intense stare, and I drop my gaze, suddenly shy. It's too much, being looked at like that.
Adrian's thumb strokes my cheek once more, and then he pulls in a slow, steadying breath, gathering himself back up. When he lets it out, some of the grief goes with it. He looks past me to Mack, and a soft smile pulls at his mouth.
"Go on," he says gently. "Tell her about yours."
Mack's grin comes back, but it looks tired around the edges.
"Ah, no drama on my end, darlin'," he says simply. "My mama passed when I was eight. It was just the two of us before that. No dad in the picture, or aunts or uncles," he says it all plainly, like he let go of any sadness a long time ago.
"I'm so sorry,” I say for the second time as I place my other hand on Mack's knee, slipping my fingers over the warm skin along the hem of his shorts.
Is this okay?
Can I touch you?
Is that something I should ask out loud?
I hold my breath and look at the alpha’s face, half-braced for him to pull away.
Mack goes quiet for a second, just staring at my hand. Then his big hand comes down to cover mine, swallowing it whole.
"Thank you," he says, and the drawl in his voice has gone soft and low, stripped of all its usual play.
"What happened after your mom passed?" I asked softly, scared of the answer. "Who took care of you?"
"After she was gone, I went into the system," he says, his thumb moving slowly over my knuckles. "I spent about ten years getting passed around foster homes 'til I aged out." He lifts his free hand and rubs the back of his neck. "So there's nobody to tell. This pack is the only family I have left."
My throat goes so tight, and I know I won’t be able to open my mouth without crying. So I do the only thing I can think of.
I release Adrian's hand, then turn toward Mack and wrap both arms around his neck, pressing my cheek to the soft scruff along his jaw.
Mack freezes.
His big body goes rigid under me, his arms staying right where they are at his sides. He doesn't pull away, but he doesn't reach for me either. It’s like the alpha has never been hugged before and has no idea what to do.
I hold on anyway, breathing in his warm hazelnut scent, unwilling to let go until he understands I mean it.
Then Adrian moves behind me.
He folds himself around my back, his chest to my spine. He wraps his long arms around the both of us at once, tucking me in tight between him and Mack. Adrian rests his chin on my shoulder, close to Mack's face, and something in that finally breaks whatever's holding Mack still.
His arms come up.
One banded around me, one reaching past to pull Adrian in with us, and then he's got both of us at once, gathering us into his chest with a low, shaky breath. He holds on tight, like now that he's finally got his hands on us, he isn't sure how to make himself let go.
"Alright," he mumbles into my hair, then sniffles softly. But he doesn't loosen his grip. Not even for a long second. "Damn. You two are gonna make a soft mess out of me yet."
"Then shut up and let it happen," Adrian says against the back of my shoulder.
Mack huffs a wet laugh but he finally goes still, and the three of us just stay there, cozied up on the couch in the soft morning light, holding on.
I let my eyes fall shut and breathe them in, pine and hazelnut layered over each other, and some of the fear I woke up with finally lets go of me.
Not all of it.
There's still a small guilty knot that says a better person would have talked to them first, but it's quieter now.
The important thing is that they aren't angry, or demanding I leave.
Adrian is wrapped around my back like he can't stand an inch of space between us, and Mack has both of us gathered up in his arms like he's afraid we'll vanish if he lets go, and what I did last night didn't ruin anything.
I still don't know if Mack wants me the way I want him, but I decide that I don't have to solve it this second. I can wait.
I can go slow, and let him show me in his own time.
Assuming he wants me at all.