Chapter Seven
The sound of Earl’s hamster wheel woke Lyric up.
She eased her eyes open to see Earl running in his cage on a stationary wheel like his tail was on fire. It was still dim outside, but from the gray light filtering in through Vic’s small bedroom window, it looked like it was after dawn.
Lyric pushed up onto her arm and looked around, rubbing her eye.
Vic’s side of the bed was empty. He’d woken her up in the middle of the night and fucked her slowly, then curled around her and she’d fallen blissfully back to sleep.
Now, he was nowhere to be found, but there was a mug of coffee on the nightstand next to her phone with a folded piece of paper under it.
She plucked the note from the table and opened it up.
Good morning pretty Lyric. I had to go to work for a couple of hours, but I’ll be back soon. The house is being delivered today so it’s a short workday. Bone you soon.
Vic
P. S. I like you a lot.
A smile confiscated her face, and she laid back down in his sheets and hugged the letter tightly to her chest as she remembered last night.
He’d been so decisive in that fight with Cian, and so confident in the woods afterward.
She bit her lip against a grin and reached for her phone on the nightstand.
She unplugged it from the charger Vic had let her borrow and noticed a text from him.
He’d sent a couple of images. The first was of them in the bathroom of the bar last night, her in a bra, him behind her with his hand around her throat, and both of them giving wicked looks to the camera.
He’d edited it to be gritty, and in black and white.
The second image was a selfie of Vic rolling his eyes heavenward while two blue collar boys in the background over his right shoulder looked like they were in a heated argument.
One of them ordered the wrong sheetrock. One of them didn’t check the product before he signed for it and brought it to the jobsite. Both are playing the blame game instead of fixing it. I am eating a breakfast burrito, a following text explained.
Breakfast burrito sounds delicious. Send. So, do you do sheetrock for a living? I boned you before I even know what you do for work. Am I a ho? Send.
He responded almost instantly. God, I hope you are, but only a ho for me. Yep, it is my calling. Me and sheetrock are tight.
She giggled and lifted her phone, checked her messy hair, and then took a selfie in his bed. I like your sheets. Send.
She could see the three dots that meant he was typing, but he stopped. Started up again. Stopped. Started again and a few seconds later his text came through. I can almost see nip. This might be the greatest day of my entire life. Obviously I saved that picture. Please send me a thousand more.
A picture came through and it was just of Vic’s lap, his hand grabbing his huge erection through his jeans.
She couldn’t stop smiling right now if she tried. She saved the picture. That man was so hot.
There are breakfast sandwiches in the freezer, he texted. If you get hungry, just heat one up for a couple minutes. I’ll grab us lunch on my way home. Gotta go. The idiots finally agreed it’s both of their faults. Gotta get to work. Miss you, ho.
She curled in on herself with her laugh and typed out, Miss you too. Send.
Lyric rolled over and settled her phone onto her chest as she stared up at the ceiling.
She’d spent most of her life thinking no one could save her, and she was on her own.
That no one would understand her or care enough about her as a person to go out of their way on anything. But Vic was different.
He felt very important.
Lyric felt…happy.
And not just happy in the moment. He was having a home delivered today.
She could help him move his stuff into it, and she could have time to figure out where she wanted to go.
Maybe she could get a place close to here and come visit him and the Rogue Pack.
And there was a wine tour planned for this weekend that would get her mind off of everything too. There were events to look forward to.
It had been a long time since she had things to look forward to.
First up was a shower though. She didn’t want to wash Vic off her skin, but she absolutely wanted to wash every single germ Cian had put onto her when he’d touched her yesterday. The thought of him disgusted her.
She frowned as she sat up in Vic’s bed.
The thought of Cian disgusted her?
That was something, right? That was new. Sure, she’d moved on already, but she had still missed him in some ways. The bond did that. But now?
Now, all she wanted was Vic.
She’d broken the Maker Bond to Cian years ago, but now Vic had annihilated any bond that was left between them. Now, Cian was unacceptable. Everything about him was a turnoff.
Someday, when he wasn’t such a sore subject, she was going to explain to Vic what he had done for her.
Lyric kicked out of the covers and settled her feet onto the cold wooden floorboards.
His bedroom here was small, but it wasn’t cluttered.
Vic seemed to be tidy. It smelled like sawdust and new paint in here.
She moved around the room and studied his belongings.
Most of it was still packed into a stack of boxes in the corner, and more boxes in the closet, but he had clothes hanging, and a laundry hamper that was half-full.
There were several themed hamster cages along the wall on the other side of the bed along with seeds and shavings for Earl.
On the other nightstand there was a basket of knitting yarn, and a few miniature sweaters for Earl.
One was half made and still connected to the knitting needles.
There was a miniature fridge in the corner, but it was just full of energy drinks and bottled waters, and a random jar of yellow peppers.
Her suitcase was the only thing that looked out of place here.
She’d laid it in the middle of the floor last night when she’d been searching for something to wear.
She had realized quickly that she had left all of her pajamas at Eden’s in her rush to escape.
Vic had let her borrow a giant T-shirt. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror hanging from the back of his door.
The shirt went past her knees, and the sleeves went midway down her forearms. Adorable.
Her hair was a rat’s nest, but that was Vic’s fault.
She grinned at the memory of him fucking her quietly in the dark last night. No man had ever consumed her body the way he did.
She grabbed the mug of coffee and a set of clothes from her suitcase and padded out into the hallway. She listened for a moment to determine if anyone else was home. Vic lived in Nate and Delta’s house, and right next to Vic’s small room was Tabian’s, who was also waiting on a home to be delivered.
She heard someone rustling around in the kitchen and made her way to the mouth of the living room. Delta turned and waved a spatula at her. “Good morning!”
Lyric hugged her small pile of folded clothes to her stomach. “Hello. Making breakfast?”
“For both of us if you are hungry. The boys are all at work. I’m making French toast and scrambled eggs. Want some?”
Lyric’s stomach growled. “Umm, sure.” She made her way to the kitchen table. “Need any help?”
“Nah, I’ve got it. You just relax. You’ve been through a lot.”
But Lyric looked around the cabin that was being renovated and thought of how Aro had gotten this Pack kicked out of their territory and stripped of their ranks. The Rogue Pack was right in the middle of a rebuild. “I think we’ve all been through a lot,” Lyric said softly.
Delta huffed a laugh and nodded, her back to Lyric as she whisked eggs and milk in a bowl. “Destiny has been texting this morning, asking if she can come over and talk to you. I know that Maker Bond is complicated though, so I told her to wait until you’re ready.”
Lyric drew her knees up to her chest and set her clothes on the table. “She can talk to me if she wants.”
Delta texted someone—probably Destiny—and went back to cooking.
A minute later, the sound of a small engine filled the cabin, and someone hit the brakes hard outside on what sounded like an ATV.
The engine cut and the front door flew open.
Destiny stood there with a box of donuts and a wide-eyed look trained right on Lyric.
“H-hi,” she stammered, breathing heavily.
Lyric stood, feeling the tug of that Maker Bond. “Hey,” she greeted her softly.
Destiny’s face relaxed with relief and she approached the table, set down a box of what now looked to be half-eaten donuts, and pulled Lyric in for a hug. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Lyric stood there frozen, her arms to her side, but those words loosened something inside of her.
Everything is going to be okay. Destiny had said it with such honesty in her tone. To her, it was the truth, and in this moment, Lyric believed her.
“It does feel like things are taking a turn for the better,” Lyric said, squeezing her eyes closed and hugging her back.
Destiny released her and gestured to the donuts.
“Last night I was freaking out, because I knew you would be staying here with Vic after whatever happened on the Lake Pack land, and I couldn’t sleep last night, and I was trying to be a cool girl and not come over here until you wanted me to, but I got up at five in the morning and got donuts just in case.
I don’t know what you like so I just got a bunch of different kinds.
But then I got nervous and I ate six of them. ”
Lyric laughed and opened the lid to find half a dozen donuts left. “Delta, do you want one?”
“Yep!”
She brought one to her and got the milk out, poured them all a glass while Destiny chattered on about last night and being a little disappointed that there wasn’t another war. Her wolf had been ready.
Bloodthirsty little thing, Lyric thought to herself with a private grin.
It was still strange looking at Destiny’s face and seeing her bi-colored eyes that were so much like Lyric’s.
And Cian’s. And every other werewolf Lyric had ever made.
The Turns would probably haunt her well past the grave, but with this one…
with Destiny…she didn’t seem upset at all.
She seemed happy in her life. Happy with the Turn. Happy with her wolf.
Lyric couldn’t hold onto guilt with this one. It wasn’t hers to hold onto.
Destiny was here because of the decision they’d made when Aro had decided to kidnap her.
The tension left Lyric completely as the girls settled into easy conversation.
Nory was set to come over too after she finished something up at her house, and Lyric was watchful and observant and noticed something big.
These females weren’t cutthroat like most female werewolves were.
They weren’t competing with each other. No one had taught them to be cruel to other females.
They were knitting their Pack together in whatever way felt right to them, and kindness was natural here.
Lyric was quiet for the most part. She was just absorbing the good here. It had never been like this with her sister, or with the other females in any of the Packs she’d bounced around to.
They ate and sat around that table for two hours just chatting and laughing.
She learned much about this Pack of misfits.
She learned about the quirks, and the complicated layers of some of the friendships here.
She learned how Liam was as an Alpha, and how Nate had changed for the better to be a good Second, and every story was tinged with a loving teasing tone from these females.
Nory joined and cleaned up the kitchen with them, and then they moved to sit on the back porch to chat on a set of burgundy wooden chairs facing the windy woods.
This past fourteen hours had been the most normal ones of Lyric’s entire existence.
And for some reason, all the while, Vic felt even more important.
No wonder he hadn’t cared when she’d apologized for what happened to their old homes.
If she had a Pack like this, she wouldn’t look back either.
Good people had found good people, and she began to think that Aro had done exactly what he had been designed to do—he’d broken them into something better.