25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
Vivi
Ding. Dong. Ding.
The house is more forbidding than usual, dark brick and Gothic columns with ivy vines that form a lattice up the sides. My parents always said it was classic, yet somehow, all I feel is cold.
My limbs are heavy with exhaustion, and my lips won’t form the polite smile I need—no matter how much I will them. Irritation prickles under my skin because the truth is I just wasn’t ready to leave our happy little scent-bonded bubble yet.
But here we are, dressed to the nines, standing awkwardly outside my childhood home.
“You okay, little flier?” Fox asks, slipping his hand in mine and giving it a squeeze. The move warms me from the inside out, and when he brings my knuckles to his lips, slick pools between my legs.
So freaking hot.
All three of them look amazing in suits, but I wish we were home so I could tear them all off and go back to enjoying my mates. Finding my scent-matches has made me completely insatiable.
The tapping of heels reaches my ears, and I swing my head back to stare at the mahogany door. It swings open with a swish, and standing on the other side, looking impeccable as always, is my mother. God forbid she ever wears something like sweats. From the time I was little, she insisted on frilly dresses and pretty little shoes just to go outside and play. “Proper attire” she always called it.
Maybe that’s why being an athlete gives me such a sense of freedom.
“Vivi, why on earth are you ringing th…,” she begins, pulling it open wider only to stop mid-sentence. Her jaw drops to the ground, hinging open, and her eyes widen to disks.
“Hi, Mom,” I say almost shyly, stepping forward to give her a one-armed hug—unwilling to let go of Fox’s hand.
She recovers quickly but still admonishes me, “I thought we agreed you were coming alone.” Her words are for my ears alone, a snake-like hiss that slithers through me like an unhappy poison.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Milone,” Dash says, walking forward and offering his hand smoothly. “That’s our fault. None of us could bear to be apart from Vivi. Finding our scent-match has made us all a bit clingy.”
“Of course,” she agrees with a hard smile, looking up at him with consideration. She eyeballs him from head to toe, looking for flaws. My mother huffs in annoyance when she notices their perfectly tailored designer clothes and neat grooming. A frown twists her lips when she notices Ty’s green hair, but she refrains from commenting, although I can sense her snobbery. “Vivi mentioned she had found her scent-matches. Please do come in.”
We all shuffle through the doorway, and I immediately wish we could walk right back out of it and return to the car instead. My parents are good people. A bit judgmental and demanding. But that’s just because they have high standards. Although they rarely agree with my choices, they love me. Right?
The house is clean and neat to the point that it doesn’t look like anyone even lives here. And perhaps they don’t. The downstairs serves as a grand display of my parents’ social standing, with every element carefully curated to impress visitors. Dark wood floors gleam below our shoes, and expensive artwork hangs on the walls.
It’s stunning.
It’s cold.
“David. Vivi is here… She brought a pack,” my mother calls, disdain dripping from the last word. Sauntering away, she leaves us standing alone in the foyer. Shock rolls through me at the rudeness. My father’s an Alpha, and my mom’s a beta, and they’ve always been dismissive of scent-matches—and packs for that matter. But her nasty attitude has my hackles rising.
“Maybe we should just go,” I grumble uncomfortably. A flush works its way up my neck as outrage simmers in my blood. My pack crowds around me, and chocolate, rum punch, and spring rain soothe my frayed edges, bringing my brain back online.
“Baby, we can leave anytime. Just say the word,” Dash promises, reaching up to slide his thumb back and forth over the crescent on my neck. My body instantly relaxes, slumping back into his warmth.
“Welcome home, my girl,” my father’s loud voice booms, echoing around the hallway. He saunters forward, looking every bit the formidable Alpha he is. Though his hair is graying at the temples, and his belly is more prominent than ever before, he stands tall, an imposing figure. His eyes sparkle when he sees me but draw to narrow points as he notices the men surrounding me.
“Hello, Sir,” Fox says politely, reaching out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
The two shake hands, and my father scrutinizes him. His eyes flit from Dash to Ty then back again to Fox. The room is silent for a moment, and I squirm.
“Holy heck—you’re Pack Walsh. The stars of the Alpha Crushers!” he exclaims, wonder lighting his face. “Hot damn. Come in! Come in!”
My guys are famous, so I guess now they can roll out the welcome mat. Ridiculous.
“Well, now I know why you missed the first game of the season! Do you think you’ll win this weekend?” my dad chatters, asking a million questions. His excitement is obvious, and it warms my heart. Maybe they’ll come to love them as much as I’m starting to.
He ushers us all down the hallway, past the dining room. “Linda, we need to set some extra plates. Vivi’s brought home Pack Walsh.”
My gaze darts into the room, falling on the table. The table is already set for four people…
“Who else is coming?” I ask in confusion, biting my lip. Worry twists my gut at the empty space, and my mind whirls with the possibilities. We don’t have much family…
Ding. Dong. Ding.