Chapter 28 Lark
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LARK
The next time I see Lazarus, I’m going to kill him.
He left.
Left.
As in, vacated the estate.
And I have no idea where the fuck he went.
That was two days ago.
If he’s punishing me for biting him, then consider me properly reprimanded.
Noah and Johan haven’t told me anything useful. When I found them in the gym the other day, they said Lazarus stated that he needed to handle something.
That’s it.
No elaboration.
The only thing I’ve been able to confirm is that “something” has nothing to do with Giovanni. Johan promised me that. But he wouldn’t give me any additional details.
So I refused to let him and Noah stay in my room that night.
And again last night, too.
But their collective scents are driving me crazy. Plus, the approaching deadline of my brother’s arrival is looming over my head.
Gio will be here tomorrow.
Yet Lazarus is nowhere to be seen or found.
However, he’s clearly coming back for the meeting. Which gives me maybe twenty-four hours to finish the statement I started working on this morning.
It’s not a statement with words. But with actions.
I claimed Lazarus. He’s my alpha. He wants to question my loyalty and run off like a coward? Fine. I’ll “punish” him, too.
In my own way.
I evaluate the mess I’ve created of pillows, sheets, and clothing—both worn and washed. It’s not enough. I need something recent.
Too bad I don’t have that cum-covered shirt from the plane, I think, my lips twisting to the side.
I searched all three alphas’ quarters to see if I could find something with their essence on it, but I came up empty-handed.
So I guess I’ll have to craft something new later.
Tonight.
In the nest.
Once I’m done creating it.
That’ll be the literal icing on top of my proverbial cake.
Especially since I’m making my nest in Lazarus Ferraro’s bed.
Diving on top of the pile of blankets I’ve collected from the other bedrooms—the ones that belong to Noah and Johan—I start to put everything where it needs to go.
Against the headboard.
Along the sides.
The bottom of the bed—where I’ve set up the bench that I stole from Noah’s room. That wasn’t fun to drag down the hallway. But since the men have all left me alone again, I did it by myself.
Pretty sure Noah and Johan are working out. That’s where they’ve spent most of the last two days.
Half naked.
Sparring.
Jumping rope, I think, shivering. Shirtless. Doing rhythmic footwork… with a rope. While sweat drips down Noah’s sculpted pecs onto those hard, muscular abs.
My mouth is dry, my mind picturing him with ease. Apparently, he isn’t into running or swimming or cycling or any sort of normal cardio exercise.
Nope.
He likes to jump rope to music. Like an intricate dance of hops and footwork.
And wow.
Just… just wow.
I watched him yesterday for an undetermined amount of time before forcing myself to leave.
It was that or yank the rope out of his hand and jump him.
Which I refuse to do until he or Johan tells me where Lazarus went. Since they’re being silent, I’m being noncompliant.
Or nonsexual.
Or whatever they want to call it.
Regardless, this isn’t how a pack is supposed to work. Communication is important. And they’re not communicating properly. So I’m not packing properly.
Or… or whatever it should be called. Relationship-ing properly? Sexing properly?
I shake my head and focus on my task, ignoring my inane thoughts.
Well, not really ignoring them. I can’t stop picturing Noah with that rope. And Johan with that bō staff.
It seems my hacker alpha isn’t just good at computers. He’s also a black belt martial artist.
Because of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be skilled at basically everything he does?
My jaw ticks.
Do all my alphas have to be so damn perfect? So fucking attractive? So ridiculously alluring?
No wonder my heat is coming faster than expected.
I can feel it burning in my veins. I’m just hoping it’ll happen after Gio’s visit.
I should probably tell my alphas. Or maybe they already sense it.
That would explain why Noah showed up in my room first thing this morning wearing nothing but a towel. “Need anything, pet?” he asked me.
“Yes. Where’s Lazarus?” I countered, causing him to sigh.
“The boss is off doing boss-related things.”
I nodded. “And that’s all you’re going to tell me?”
“It’s not my story to share, little bee. I’m sure he’ll update you when he returns.”
“Hmm.” I slid out of bed and let him see that I’d slept naked. “Well, in that case, no, I don’t need anything.” I walked right past him, certain he could smell my slick. “Have a good day, enforcer.”
His growl trailed after me to the bathroom, and I almost thought he might follow.
But he didn’t.
And Johan didn’t even attempt to come see me.
Which is when I crafted my idea to make a nest in Lazarus’s space.
I fully intend to experience my heat right here in the middle of his bed.
If he’s not here to participate, then he’ll be surrounded by the scents of what happened. And that will be poetic justice.
I keep that thought in mind while I prepare my safe haven, my heart beating fast with excitement.
There are pieces of all my alphas in here.
It’s Lazarus’s bed.
I have Noah’s bench.
And I put Johan’s laptop on the nightstand.
Plus all their clothes and bedding throughout my pillowed heaven.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper.
“I disagree,” a deep voice replies, causing the hairs on my nape to stand on end.
“Lazarus.” The name escapes me on a breath, my body instantly on edge as I slowly turn to face him.
But then his comment registers, his disagreement with my statement.
I frown at him, then reevaluate the nest I’m kneeling in the middle of, searching for what’s wrong with it.
Is he saying that because I made it in his bed?
The whole point was to fight back. To prove to him that I’m pack. To make him trust me.
But also to punish him for running away after I claimed him.
However, I never considered what would happen if he hated my effort.
“You don’t like my nest?” I despise the hurt in my voice.
Maybe I deserve this for claiming him like I did.
Only, he’s mine. He’s been mine since he kidnapped me. And he told Luna he was falling in love with me.
I frown, utterly confused by the whiplash of emotions spiraling through me.
“Oh, I love your nest, princess,” he murmurs, his fingers loosening the tie around his neck. “I merely disagreed with your assessment of it being perfect.”
My frown deepens. “What’s wrong with my nest?” I demand, irritated by his evaluation. “I worked very hard to build this today.”
I have no idea what time it is, but I know I’ve been in here for hours. And I don’t appreciate him waltzing in here just to disrespect my nest.
“I can see that, Aurora. It’s beautiful.”
“But not perfect?” I demand, my eyebrow arching upward. “You’re comparing my nest to others you’ve seen?”
That question makes me see red.
Because he’s been with other omegas.
In their nests.
And they were better than mine?
The bastard must not see my mounting fury because he smiles and slowly takes off his jacket, the black fabric looking as expensive as the rest of him. He sets it on the bench without question, either not noticing the new furniture or not minding it.
“It’s not perfect, because you’re still clothed,” he murmurs. “If you were kneeling like that naked with slick pouring down your thighs, then it would be perfect.”
He finishes removing his tie and adds it to his pile on the bench, then begins to unfasten his cuff links.
“As for comparing it to other nests, that’s not possible. Your nest is the first one I’ve ever seen, and the only one I’ll ever experience.” He walks around to place his cuff links on the nightstand. “Assuming I’m invited to join you, of course.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask why he wouldn’t be allowed in my safe haven when I remember why this all started.
Narrowing my gaze, I say, “I’ll invite you in after you tell me why you ran away for two days.”
His dark eyes meet and hold mine. “I didn’t run away, Aurora. I went to make amends.” He slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, then taps something on it before giving it to me. “Atonement number one.”
My brow furrows as I accept his device and read the announcement on the screen. It appears to be a company memo informing everyone of a recent addition to the organization.
“Security Information Consultant,” I read aloud, noting the formal title. “You’re hiring me as an employee?”
“No, I’m taking you on as a consultant. But if you would like a different title or position, name it, and I’ll make it happen.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, setting his phone down. “Why are you hiring me?”
“Because you’re amazing with technology,” he replies, his nimble fingers working the buttons of his dark dress shirt.
I try not to watch. I do. But his tan skin peeks at me more and more with each unfastened layer, and all I want to do is lick him.
“I wanted to give you a permanent position in the organization,” he goes on, “but Johan suggested the consultant role, as he thought you might be more comfortable helping in that capacity since it allows you freedom to pursue other avenues, if that’s your wish.”
Johan was right, I think, swallowing. Except… “What makes you think I want to help your organization?”
He shrugs. “If you don’t want the role, you don’t have to accept it.
It’s more of an invitation than a mandate.
We want to include you in pack business, and this seemed like the best way to do that, as it’ll give you unfettered access to everything Ferraro related.
” His eyes capture mine. “And I do mean everything.”
“Even the dark sides of the business?”
“Especially the dark sides of the business,” he replies, and I don’t miss the innuendo in his tone. It’s clearly meant as a double entendre. “We don’t want to hide anything from you, Aurora. You’re pack.”
“Am I?” I demand. “Because you left without telling me where you went. Again.”