Chapter 6 #4
Because I told the universe the other night that I surrendered, that I came home and gave up the fight. That all I wanted in return was to be left alone. And wouldn’t it be so cruel to then plant my scent matches in the woodcutters’ cabin?
I breathe in and out until my hands mostly settle, and I build a plan: go back out, finish the coffee, be gracious, be brief, then be gone. Whatever help Grandma promised these men, I’ll find a way to deliver it from a nice, safe distance. By carrier pigeon, if it comes to that.
“You got this,” I whisper under my breath.
So I open the door, step out, and turn to ease it quietly shut behind me. Then I spin straight into a wall of muscle.
A startled squeak escapes me as my feet tangle in the rug, then his boots, then somehow each other. The floor vanishes beneath me, my stomach lurching as I pitch sideways.
Strong hands catch me before I get anywhere.
A sharp breath sounds above me, matching my own surprise, and the world tilts in a dizzy blur of hallway and doorframe before my back meets the wall. An entirely new Alpha is braced against me, one arm firm around my waist, the other steadying my shoulder, holding my weight.
For one suspended heartbeat, I forget how to breathe, then I glance up.
Golden. That’s the word my messed-up brain brings up first. Blond hair flicked up off his forehead and shaved close at the sides, a square jaw, a mouth already curling, and ink everywhere, sleeves of it down both muscle-bulging arms, more of it climbing the sides of his neck, and eyes a blue so bright it feels excessive, fixed on me with fast-gathering delight.
God, he’s devastatingly handsome.
“Well, hello.” The laugh lives right under his voice.
“You must be Lucy.” He doesn’t give me back one inch of space.
“Grayson. And I have to tell you, I didn’t wake up expecting to find a gorgeous Omega outside my bedroom.
” Then his grin catches. He pulls in a breath, and something hungrier slides through all that blue.
“Fuck. You smell incredible. You know that? Like, unfairly so to a man like me.”
Brandy and leather roll off him and over me, a third scent folding into the traces of Roman and Wolf still lingering in my senses. My body betrays me, leaning the smallest fraction toward him before I catch myself.
His mouth curves. “Easy there.” His voice comes across deep, threaded with amusement rather than arrogance.
The words barely register because I’m too busy staring at him. The hypnotic blue eyes watching me far too closely, the rough stubble shadowing his jaw, and the way one hand is still braced beside my shoulder while the other rests against my waist as though he’s forgotten to let go.
I clear my throat. “You know… most people let go after catching someone.”
His smile deepens instead of fading. “Maybe.” His gaze drops to my lips, lingering just long enough to send my pulse stumbling. “But then I wouldn’t have noticed.”
My stomach flips. The warmth already simmering beneath my skin flares as his scent wraps around me, until every instinct I possess is screaming to close the distance between us. “What’s that?” I squeak.
His gaze lifts to mine. “You feel that too, don’t you, little bird?”
My pulse stutters. Somehow, impossibly, he must know exactly what’s happening inside me.
The inferno pouring through my body isn’t fading. It’s spreading, urging me closer with every passing second until it takes conscious effort not to lean into him again. A frightening thought crashes through me.
If I don’t leave now, I won’t.
My heart slams against my ribs. “I-I have to go.” The words come out breathless, and I hate how little conviction they carry.
One corner of Grayson’s mouth lifts. “You sure?” He shifts ever so slightly, his thumb brushing once against my waist before settling again. The tiny movement sends a wave of fire racing through me so quickly my knees threaten to give out. “Because you’re not exactly pulling away.”
He’s right.
So I jerk back as though I’ve only just remembered how, then duck under his arm and make my escape down the hallway.
By the time I reach the sunlit kitchen, I’m walking as fast as dignity allows—a sprint disguised as composure.
I snatch my empty basket from the counter as Roman and Wolf turn on their stools.
“Okay, I have to go. Thank you for the coffee, and enjoy the biscuits. Bye.”
“Lucy, you okay?” Roman asks. Wolf’s just staring at me.
“Yep, yep, just remembered something I have to do urgently.” I’m out the door, down the porch steps, and halfway across the clearing before my lungs work again.
Behind me, I hear them through the open door—Grayson’s voice and then laughter rolling out of that beautiful den into the morning as though they haven’t just detonated my entire life.
Here I am, rushing home with my body on fire and my heart trying to punch its way through my rib cage. And it’s clear the universe hates me. I asked for one thing. One.
Instead, it handed me three impossible Alphas.
Three scent matches.
Fuck.