Chapter Forty-One
Halley
Knox is sulking. There is no other way to describe it. If he had a whip, he'd be flogging himself.
'Let him work through it,' Viper murmurs to me, but it's hard to watch.
After I wiped the come off my face, I did my very best to reassure Knox. I told him that I wanted it. I pushed him to do it, asking him over and over, “Can't you see how much I enjoyed it?”
I wasn’t just willing, I was very eager. I was fully, and enthusiastically consenting when I pushed him against the truck and had my way with him.
But none of that seems to matter. He’s still quiet, his movements stiff, his expression locked in guilt.
Now we’re crammed into the truck, and I’m wedged between Viper and Blaze in the back seat.
Knox is in the driver’s seat with Shade beside him, playing navigator with the familiar tap of his fingers against his trusty tablet.
Blaze leans close, his chest pressing against my side, and nuzzles my cheek. “Sorry for cutting someone’s hand off in front of you, Sparkles.”
The way he says it, I'm not entirely convinced he's sorry at all.
“Uh huh,” I hum, noncommittal. Blaze presses his nose harder into my cheek, warm breath puffing against my skin.
“Did it scare you?” he whispers, excitement thrumming through his oversized Alpha frame.
“A bit.”
'Tell him to back off if he's bothering you,' Shade’s voice clips in my mind.
'It's okay. He’s not,’ I reply. The 'yet' hangs unspoken.
"Did you want his foot instead?"
Viper shoves Blaze away with a grunt and pulls me into his side, tucking my head against his broad chest.
Blaze pouts, confusion flashing across his face. “His head, then?”
“No body parts, Blaze,” I say gently. “None at all.”
“Oh.”
“Thank you, though,” I add, quieter. “For defending me.”
Blaze nods, seemingly appeased by my gratitude for his violent little gesture.
From somewhere in the depths of his combat vest, a maze of endless pockets, he produces a lighter and starts flicking it open and closed.
Click-click-click.
"Blaze," Knox says without looking up from the road, voice flat with warning.
"Can't help it, boss. I'm restless."
"Well, find something to do with your hands that isn’t distracting."
A grin spreads across Blaze’s face, slow and wicked. I know that look. Whatever he’s about to do, it’s not going to be helpful.
He leans over me again, pressing me into Viper’s side, and murmurs against my ear.
"Wanna play, Sparkles?"
"Blaze," Knox growls. "Not what I meant."
Blaze ignores him completely.
“Did you have fun sucking off our Prime, Sparkles?” he asks, his voice full of dark amusement. “We could hear how much you liked it. But you didn’t come, did you?”
The smallest, quietest squeak escapes me, but that’s all the encouragement he needs.
His head tilts, nostrils flaring as he inhales. “I can smell it on you. Still all slick and needy.”
He looks into my eyes, flicking between them, and I’m transfixed. “Want me to take care of that? I could make you come with just my fingers. Slow and deep. You know that I’ll have you shaking so hard you’d think you were flying apart.”
I squirm as new wetness floods my already ruined underwear, and my perfume fills the truck cabin.
Viper sighs. He’s trying to play it cool, but I feel the shift in his body.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Blaze mock-whispers, his lips close enough that I feel the shape of the words. “I watched. It was beautiful, the way you took him all the way down your throat. Balls deep like a perfect little Omega.”
I bite back a moan, but the shiver that runs through me is impossible to hide. His fingers slip beneath the hem of my shirt, teasing the edge of my waistband.
Shade snaps from the front seat. "If you two don't quit it, I'll pull this car over. Don't think I won't."
We both freeze.
Then Blaze and I look at each other, eyes wide with mock innocence, and answer in unison.
“Yes, Daddy.”
The heat between us pops, and we giggle like naughty children caught by their strict parent.The laughter in the truck fades into quiet chuckles and shared glances.
Knox guides us down the mountain effortlessly. Shade refocuses on his tablet, Viper settles back against the seat with his arm draped over my shoulder, and Blaze returns to lazily playing with his lighter, though he’s still grinning like a satisfied delinquent.
The lull is comfortable. Familiar.
So I ruin it.
“So,” I say casually, like I’m asking someone to pass the salt, “when do you think we should make this thing official and mate?”
The silence is immediate. Total.
Even the engine seems to roar quieter.
Shade stops tapping. Viper’s arm tenses where it’s slung across my shoulders. Blaze freezes mid-flick of his lighter.
I bite my lower lip, unsure whether to double down or pretend I didn’t say it.
But this conversation needs to happen. The General might be a manipulative bastard, but he’s not wrong.
Even without a volatile Omega Command or an enemy army breathing down my neck, the truth is that the Pack claiming me as theirs is inevitable.
We could spend forever stuck in place, treading water, trying to heal from every wound life gave us.
But I’m tired of waiting. I think I’m finally ready to say “frack it” and dive headfirst into becoming their Omega.
Viper recovers first, letting out a low chuckle. “You can’t just drop that between jokes about dismembered body parts and Daddy kinks, Sparkles.”
“Sure I can,” I reply, forcing my voice into something light. “I’m a multitasker.”
Shade coughs out a strangled laugh. Knox shifts in his seat, but I can tell he’s watching me in the mirror, calculating the exact weight of my words.
I look down at my hands, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.
Too late to walk it back now.
Might as well see what happens. Blaze flicks his lighter one more time before snapping it shut and slipping it back into one of his many pockets. He shifts beside me, stretching his long legs out like this is just another conversation about snacks or mission intel.
“Well, we have been playing with each other’s bits like horny rabbits,” he drawls. “Mating’s the logical next step.”
Viper groans. “That’s not how mating works, you absolute disaster. There’s a bit more to it. Like feelings. Emotions.”
“Details,” Blaze says, waving a hand, focusing back on me. “Just want you to know that if there’s a sign-up sheet, my name’s on it.”
Shade snorts softly, but he’s watching Blaze now too. We all are.
Because underneath the usual smirk, there’s a flicker of something uncertain. Not fear, exactly, but hesitation.
I shift slightly, enough that my thigh brushes his.
His smile flickers, just for a second.
“Anyway,” he says, voice a touch too loud, “someone’s gotta go last, right? Might as well be me. You might decide three mates is enou—”
“Blaze,” I say gently.
He goes quiet, but he doesn’t look at me.
I don’t push.
He can make self-deprecating jokes all he wants, but it only highlights the lingering question between us.
Is he ready to be my mate? Has he forgiven me?
Am I ready to accept him in any state he comes? Manic and fun, or sullen and dangerous.
Viper shifts beside me, his arm still around my shoulders. He leans in just enough that I feel his breath near my temple.
“Any time you say the word, it’s yes from me,” he says quietly. “I want it. I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you. Just took me a while to find my courage.”
There is no teasing or hesitation. Just truth, solid and calm, like everything else about him.
His thumb rubs a slow, steady line along my upper arm, like he knows I need the touch to anchor me. My eyes sting, just for a moment.
Viper has always had my heart. Our Alpha and Omega latched onto each other instantly. When everything else is said and done, our biology was clear. We’re meant to be together.
“Figured you’d say that,” I whisper. “You know, you weren’t exactly subtle in that cellar.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Figured you needed to hear it anyway, pretty girl.”
“I’ve already decided,” Shade declares.
I blink, lifting my head off Viper’s shoulder. “You have?”
He doesn’t glance up from his tablet, fingers still moving across the screen in calm, efficient taps.
“Mmhmm. Ran the probability models,” Shade says casually. “Factored in emotional compatibility, physical bonding chemistry, shared trauma responses, and the statistical outcomes of Blaze murdering us all in our sleep.”
Blaze groans and throws his head back. “Oh, come on. We all know I like to watch the light drain from my victims' eyes. Can’t do that if they’re sleeping.”
I swallow thickly.
“I’m kidding!”
Silence.
“Okay, fair. I’m not kidding. But I’m not going to murder my Pack. I love you guys.”
Shade hums. “I know, I made sure the model predicts your feelings. You’re a violent wildcard, but you’re our violent wildcard.”
Blaze beams for half a second, arms folded smugly, until the rest of the sentence hits him.
“Wait.” His grin falters and then gasps dramatically, jabbing an accusatory finger at Shade. “I knew it. You’ve been charting our feelings like we’re part of some fucking science experiment. And I’m the weird one?”
I nudge him with my shoulder, chuckling. “We’re all weird. You’re just the loudest… and the stabbiest.”
He slouches deeper into his seat with a theatrical pout. “Bet his little charts are color coded, too. Nerd.”
“They are,” Shade says without missing a beat, glancing at Blaze over his shoulder. “Also, I updated your risk category last night. You jumped twenty points after the hand-decapitation incident.”
Blaze jerks upright. “What!? No, Sparkles agreed that it was a necessary and sweet courtship gesture.”
“I did no such thing,” I murmur.
Viper snorts. “Didn’t know the scale even went that high.”
I cover my grin with my hand.
“You’re all assholes,” Blaze mutters.
“No argument there,” I say, still smiling. “But we know that you love us or we’d all be dead.”
He grumbles something unintelligible that sounds suspiciously like agreement.