Episode 27 Blanket Forts and Broken Rules #3
I pop up abruptly, nearly knocking his controller from his hands, and throwing my own across the fort, just barely missing hitting Piers in the arm with it. “I—uh—I made dessert too,” I say to give myself a reason for leaping up like a psycho in the middle of a race.
Five heads snap toward me, predatory in a way that makes a shiver roll down my spine. Not because I’m scared, but because I want them to hunt me, want to be their prey.
And that is a very dangerous desire to have.
“What did you make for us, killer?”
“It’s a surprise.” I say flapping a hand at them. “Keep playing. I’ll dish it up.” Piers makes to get up, but part of this is a surprise for him, so I press a hand to his shoulder to keep him where he is. “I’ve got it.”
I retreat to the kitchen before anyone can comment on the heat in my cheeks or the way my pulse is racing for reasons that have nothing to do with Mario Kart.
I need this space to get myself under control, to remind myself of what tonight is.
It’s not about me joining their pack. It can’t be.
This is about reminding them that they are a pack.
Nothing more. Nothing less. I need to keep that in mind and keep my distance.
No more sitting on Courtland’s lap. No more flirting.
No more accidentally grinding my ass on alpha cocks.
I’m acutely aware of the eyes on me, of the glances being thrown my direction as I pull all the ingredients out of the fridge and begin an assembly line. Grieves wanders over to me as I’m making swirls of whipped cream on the top of each sundae.
His mouth quirks into a half smile, staring down at the pan of brownies topped with pretzel pieces.
“Piers told you about Court’s late night snack?”
I hum and pick up two of the bowls, and he grabs two more.
“I know it's not exactly the same as chocolate covered pretzels dipped in peanut butter,” I say, handing Court the first bowl and Piers the second.
“But when Piers mentioned he liked brownies, I thought the two would go well together. And I made a peanut butter sauce for on top of the sundae.” And sprinkled it with peanuts and a whole dollop of whipped cream too, just in case.
The two of them are staring down at the bowls like they can’t quite believe it. “You didn’t think I forgot about you, did you?” I ask, not quite understanding the looks on either of their faces right now.
“I-” Piers starts but doesn’t seem to know how to finish. Shit. He definitely didn’t think I would do anything for him. Just like he was surprised when I made him a set of pajamas.
I can’t help but glare at the rest of his pack. Because Piers should never be surprised to be included. Fucking ever.
“Come here, baby,” Court says, voice a husky growl that makes my stomach flip for all the right reasons. And that makes me take a hesitant step back.
“Oh, I have to get the other-” I cut off when a bowl is pressed into my hands by Grieves, who then presses gently on my shoulder until I have the choice to sink down somewhat gracefully, or let my knees collapse under the pressure.
I choose the first, obviously. Court doesn’t waste any time at all bundling me into his lap again, one of his legs on either side of mine, my back cradled in his chest, just like before.
“You’re hogging our omega,” Thayer grumps.
My mind swims.
Our omega. He said that, didn't he? I didn’t make it up?
Court doesn’t even pretend to be apologetic. His arms tighten around me, one forearm banded snugly across my waist, the other steadying the bowl in my hands. “She wandered into my lap all on her own.”
“That is a blatant lie,” I protest, but my voice comes out breathier than intended. Two words are circling in my head. Our omega. Our omega. Our omega.
Grieves huffs a laugh. “Doesn’t look like she’s trying very hard to escape.”
I absolutely could move. I’m aware of that. Fully capable of shifting, standing, retreating to a perfectly safe, neutral distance, like I’d determined to do not five minutes ago. But those words…
I stay where I am and I dig my spoon into the sundae, scooping up brownie and ice cream and peanut butter sauce in one dangerously perfect bite and shove the spoon into my mouth. A sound slips out of me before I can stop it—soft, embarrassed, entirely involuntary.
Court’s chest lifts behind me. “That good?”
I nod, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “Not to toot my own horn or anything, but you don’t even understand how good.”
“Well now,” Thayer says dryly, “that’s one hell of an endorsement. Can I have a bite?”
I glance sideways at him. “You have your own bowl.”
His brows lift. “Do I? Yours looks better.”
“They are exactly the same.” I can’t stop the little grin from tugging at my lips as I roll my eyes and scoop up a bite, holding it out to him in offer. “Here, professor.”
Thayer’s eyes heat and he leans forward, blue eyes burning, lips parting, but before he can take what I’m offering, Grieves leans in from my other side, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, and steals it.
“Mmm. Careful, Ren. You keep offering us things like that and we’re going to start getting ideas. ”
“I think that ship has sailed,” Piers murmurs, amusement threading his voice.
My cheeks burn, but I don’t miss the way Court’s thumb idly traces the line of my hip, absentminded, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to do. Forsythe watches from across the fort, expression unreadable, eyes dark in a way that makes my stomach flip.
I take another bite just to give my mouth something to do.
The fort feels… smaller somehow. Warmer. Heavy with sugar and laughter and the storm pounding outside, thunder rolling close enough that it vibrates through the floor.
Court dips his head, voice low near my ear. “You’re killing us, pixie.”
“I’m just serving dessert,” I say, weakly.
“Mm,” he hums, dragging his mouth over my bare shoulder. “Dangerous occupation.”
A little squeak of sound escapes me as the lights flicker and then go off all together. Court tugs me tighter to his body.
“You afraid of the dark, killer?” Thayer asks, sliding his big hand onto my ankle in a move that is far more soothing than I would have thought.
I shake my head, settling deeper between him and Court. “No, just startled me, is all.”
“‘Course she’s not scared,” Court murmurs, leaning over to nip at my ear. “Our girl is so brave.”
I shiver but cover it with a snort. “Sure, I’m very brave. That’s why I had a panic attack on national television.”
“I still want to know what caused that, bubbles,” Grieves says from somewhere on my right.
I shrug even though I’m sure they can’t see it. “Being tied to a chair and blindfolded isn’t exactly a pleasant experience.”
“Oh, but it can be,” Court purrs, nuzzling into my neck. Another shiver wracks my body, my low belly going hot and liquid.
“Cameras are out,” Piers murmurs. And I swear his tone is… suggestive?
“Are they?” Thayer’s hand shifts, sliding from my ankle up to the bare skin of my thigh, just below the hem of my shorts.
“We don’t know how long that will be the case,” Forsythe warns. “We need to be careful.”
I arch a brow at him, that I doubt he can make out. “Are you planning on doing something the cameras shouldn’t see?”
“Only if you’re okay with it, cor mea.”
Court groans and buries his head in the curve of my neck. “Please say you’re okay with it, pixie.”
I know it’s a bad idea. The same way I knew it was a bad idea to make matching clothes for myself in Sythe’s family tartan.
I’m already so attached to them. Already fantasizing about what it would be like if they did pick me at the end of all this.
If they went against the queen’s wishes and chose me instead of Isadora.
I’m already far too attached to them, my little omega heart set on having them as my pack and taking this step will only make it worse. So much worse.
But… this is also the first pack that I’ve felt comfortable enough with to even consider getting physical with, the first males I’ve felt comfortable with since Frederick Bell took my autonomy and shattered my knee.
Forsythe wouldn’t do this if he wasn’t considering me. He wouldn’t blur lines he’s drawn so carefully, all in the name of protecting hearts—mine included. So maybe this is him changing his mind. Maybe the ending where I get hurt isn’t inevitable anymore.
And god, I want this. Want them.
To feel connected to them on a deeper level than what the show allows.
“I’m okay with it,” I whisper.