Chapter 30 #2
I pause, considering what to share.
"Though when it comes to cooking, I genuinely love it. That's not about proving anything to anyone—it's just something I enjoy. Used to cook with my Oma every weekend when I was growing up."
Aurora tilts her head, curious.
"Your Oma?"
"Grandmother," I clarify, smiling at the memories. "My father's mother. She was this tiny German woman who terrified everyone except her grandchildren, and she taught me that cooking was the most honest way to show you care about someone."
The philosophy has stuck with me through years of professional training and business obligations. Cooking for my pack, for Aurora specifically, feels like the most authentic way to demonstrate care that doesn't require complicated words or grand gestures.
"Is she still around?" Aurora asks softly.
I nod, warmth spreading through my chest.
"Very much so. Still lives in Munich, still terrorizes my father regularly. I'll have to introduce you sometime—she'll love you."
Aurora laughs, the sound surprised and genuine.
"I don't exactly look very feminine to introduce to the family."
The comment makes me frown, something protective flaring in my chest.
"You look perfectly fine," I tell her firmly, letting my eyes travel deliberately over her features. "Beautiful, actually. And the last time I got to taste you, I confirmed you're very feminine."
Her blush returns with devastating intensity, spreading from her cheeks down her neck in ways that make me want to trace the pattern with my tongue.
I lean in closer, voice dropping to a whisper.
"You taste as sweet as ever, Liebling. Like honey and vanilla and everything addictive."
"Adrian!" She groans, pushing at my chest to create distance. "You can't just say things like that!"
I chuckle at her flustered reaction, thoroughly enjoying this playful side of Aurora that doesn't emerge often around the others.
"Why not? It's true." I let her create space between us, not wanting to push too far too fast. "But speaking of sweet things—are you hungry?"
As if summoned by the question, her stomach growls.
Loudly enough that we both hear it clearly, the sound cutting through the quiet morning like a demand.
Aurora's blush intensifies, and I can't help but laugh as I stand, bringing her up with me. She squeaks in surprise as I adjust my grip, carrying her princess-style toward the kitchen.
"Adrian, I can walk!"
"I know. But this is more fun."
Shadow has apparently relocated during our conversation, because I find her sitting on the kitchen table—specifically on a stack of car magazines that someone, probably Elias, left there—purring contentedly like she owns the place.
I set Aurora down gently in one of the kitchen chairs, making sure she's stable before stepping back.
"Would you like to go on a date?" The question comes out before I fully think it through, but I don't regret it.
Aurora blinks in surprise, clearly not expecting the invitation.
"A date? Like... an actual date?"
"Yes, an actual date. Not just pack time or work time or crisis management time. An actual planned outing where we get to know each other without the pressure of racing or external threats."
She's quiet for a moment, thinking.
"I have work. Training schedule is pretty packed leading up to the entry races."
"Alone time at work can be a date," I counter, already planning the logistics. "Lunch in the garage, coffee during diagnostic runs, stealing moments between simulator sessions. It all counts if the intention is there."
Aurora laughs—bright and genuine—and the sound makes my Alpha instincts purr with satisfaction.
"Accommodations for now," she concedes, that competitive spark returning to her eyes. "But I do want a real date with thee, Adrian Castellanos. The full experience—fancy restaurant, actual planning, you trying to impress me."
The challenge in her voice makes heat coil in my belly.
"Deal," I agree immediately, already mentally cataloging the best restaurants in the area.
I turn to the counter, gathering the pancakes I'd made earlier, warming them up and loading a plate with generous portions. Fresh fruit that I'd prepped this morning, bacon that's crispy just the way I know Omegas typically prefer it, and a fresh hot cup of coffee made exactly how Aurora likes it.
Black, no sugar, strong enough to strip paint.
I bring everything to the table, setting it before her with the kind of care usually reserved for precious artifacts.
Aurora grins up at me, and the expression transforms her entire face.
Radiant and happy in ways I haven't seen often enough.
I lean in, bracing my hands on either side of her chair, bringing us eye-level.
The movement puts our faces close enough that I can see the individual flecks of color in her storm-green eyes. Can count the faint freckles across her nose that she usually hides under makeup. Can watch her pupils dilate as her attention focuses on me with startling intensity.
Her gaze drops to my lips.
The movement is quick, almost involuntary, but I catch it. See the way her tongue darts out to wet her own lips, the way her breathing picks up slightly.
"Can I give you a morning kiss?" I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
The question hangs between us, weighted with possibility.
Aurora nods slightly, the movement small but definite.
Permission granted.
I close the distance slowly, giving her every opportunity to change her mind. My lips meet hers gently—not demanding, not aggressive, just... sweet.
She tastes like sleep and vanilla and something uniquely Aurora. Her lips are soft, pliant, responding to mine with hesitant enthusiasm that suggests she's still learning how to navigate this kind of intimacy.
The kiss stays chaste—morning greeting rather than passionate claiming—but it's perfect for what it is. A promise of more to come, an acknowledgment of the connection growing between us.
I pull back slowly, watching her eyes flutter open with dazed satisfaction.
"Enjoy your breakfast, Liebling," I whisper, then step away before the moment can escalate into something more intense.
Aurora sits there blushing, hand coming up to touch her lips like she can't quite believe the kiss happened.
I turn back to the stove, ostensibly to make more pancakes for the others who will be waking soon, but really to give her space to process.
Shadow meows from her perch on the car magazines, apparently demanding attention.
Aurora laughs and reaches over to pet her, the simple domestic scene making something settle in my chest with surprising weight.
This is what I've been missing.
What our pack has been missing without fully realizing it.
Not just an Omega to fulfill biological requirements or racing regulations. But this—someone to cook breakfast for, someone to tease and comfort and kiss softly in the morning light. Someone who makes the compound feel like a home instead of just a training facility.
Someone who brings out protective, caring instincts I didn't know I possessed in quite this way.
I flip pancakes with practiced efficiency, already planning future dates.
The restaurant I'll take Aurora to—something with excellent food but not so pretentious that she'll feel uncomfortable. The conversation topics I want to explore. The ways I can show her that my interest goes beyond pack obligation or convenient biology.
The others will be awake soon—Elias is always up early, Luca runs at dawn, Cale sleeps late but makes up for it with intensity once he's conscious, I’m discovering.
But right now, in this quiet morning moment, it's just me, Aurora, Shadow, and the comfortable domesticity of breakfast in the kitchen.
I leave her blushing at the table, thoroughly satisfied with how this morning is unfolding.
And I'm genuinely excited—not nervous, not uncertain, but excited—for how this pack is going to bloom with Aurora as our center.
She's going to change everything.
Challenge, push, and make us better individually and collectively.