CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - BIRDIE
We watch the storm roll in, the setting sun lost in a barrage of thick, swirling clouds.
Lightning slices across the horizon, and the wind picks up, shaking the windows and making the roof beams creak.
It’s hypnotic to watch, like the ocean is having a temper tantrum and we have front row seats to the fallout.
“The old place needs some real attention,” Hog rumbles, stroking my hair. “A few quick fixes won’t be enough if we get another couple of these storms.”
I’m lying between the two alphas, my leg hooked over Colt’s and my head resting on Hog’s broad chest. Colt’s fingers skim up and down my hip while Hog plays with my hair.
Music is playing from somewhere deeper in the house, and the air is thick with the alphas’ scents.
I’m not about to admit it out loud, but I wouldn’t mind a few more of these storms if it means we can cuddle up like this.
“Why don’t you guys spend more time here?
Is it just because Charlie preferred the city? ”
“He liked the nightlife, the buzz of the coffeehouses and the inspiration of the art galleries,” Colt confirms, “but I think Axel sometimes found it hard to be here, too. His mom died when he was young, and he got shuttled around between different family members. This place was a refuge for him, and he said it broke his heart when he had to leave and go back to school.”
“Poor Axel.” It’s hard to think of him as a young boy, alone and without options. But he told me himself that he understood what it meant to be powerless. I assumed he was referring to his time as a prisoner of war, but perhaps that helplessness began much earlier.
I bite my lip, but there’s something that’s been bothering me for a while. “If scent bonds are such a big deal, then didn’t you guys feel left out? I mean, how did Charlie balance all of you?”
“Axel was Charlie’s perfect match,” Hog says slowly, “but Colt was his best friend.” I feel him glance sideways at his packmate. “They were like two flames, feeding off each other. Sometimes it was hard to take your eyes off them.”
“What about you?” I ask softly.
His grunt vibrates through his chest. “I’m better at staying in the shadows.”
“That sounds lonely.” I get it – I’ve lived that way most of my life – but I don’t want it for him.
Hog doesn’t deny it and I sit up, turning to face him, but he gets to his feet. “I’m just gonna check on the fence at the front. I think the gate might be coming loose.”
He’s gone before I can reply and I look at Colt. His eyes meet mine before tracking Hog’s back, his expression unusually solemn. “Your brother loved with his whole heart,” he says, “and I was lucky enough to get a big chunk of that."
I settle back into the covers, feeling uneasy. “Is that what you’re trying to do with me? Trick yourself into thinking I can give you a sliver of your heart back?”
He gives me an offended look from under his lashes. “I know exactly who you are and what you have to offer. And I don’t need tricks. I’ve got both eyes open, Baggage.”
I cock a brow at his tone, but there’s no denying how much I like his words.
“Like Hog told you, little bird,” he adds, reaching out to pull me close. “If you want any part of us, we’re yours.”
Before the weather gets too bad, Axel heads to the store for what he calls ‘storm essentials’ and comes back with five overflowing sacks of groceries.
Hog joins us in the sunroom with three steaming boxes of pizza, and my stomach flip flops when he opens the boxes.
I’ve only ever had the frozen kind before, and I’m almost drooling when Axel passes me a plate and a soda.
“Is this for real?” I ask as I try to separate a slice from the rest of the pie. “This isn’t cheese, it’s magic string.”
“The delights of mozzarella,” Colt says, while wolfing down a slice of pepperoni.
We’re all quiet as we work our way through the boxes, but none of our gazes stray too far from the storm. We’re in the eye of it now, and the house is groaning and creaking as it takes a battering.
“That patch of shingles near the chimney isn’t gonna hold much longer,” Hog tells Axel. “Soon as it blows out, we need to get over to the hardware store and buy some reinforcements.”
Axel nods, but his scent is tinged with guilt, and he’s subdued for the rest of the meal. Colt and I make hot chocolate for everyone from the new supplies, but my eyelids are heavy, and I’m grateful when we all drift off to bed early.
Until I wake with a start, my hands around my throat as they hold back a silent scream. I let go with a gasp, my heart thundering as I peer around the dark room. I’m at the beach house, and it’s not just my blood pounding in my ears, but the storm beating against my window pane.
I push myself upright, grimacing at the twinge in my neck where I squeezed too tight.
Sliding out from under the covers, I pad out of the bedroom and back towards the sunroom.
The house is creaking and groaning, and I feel my heart lift to find Hog sitting in a little puddle of light from a hurricane lamp.
He’s like a lighthouse guiding me through the darkness, and my reward is the smile on his lips when I appear at his side.
He puts down whatever he’s working on and holds out his arms. “Couldn’t sleep? ”
I huff as I slide onto his lap. “The storm was being an asshole and banging on my window.”
“Yeah, it’s really putting on a show.” He sweeps my hair back from my neck, stiffening as he studies my throat. “How did you get these marks?
“Bad dream bruises.” I grimace and lean into his warmth.
I’m only wearing a thin tee and sleep shorts, and the cold night air is seeping through the sunroom window.
“Just the same messy crap in my head.” I sigh as I rub my face against his chest. “Or maybe it was the wind, telling me to get up and come find you.”
“This might help.” He reaches past me to collect what he was working on.
It’s a wooden hoop woven with a webbing of fishing wire and strung with shells, beads, and feathers.
“It’s a dream catcher,” he tells me as I run my finger gently over the biggest, whitest feather.
“You collected that on the beach, but I added a few other bits and pieces.”
I blink at him, overwhelmed. “It’s beautiful.”
His cheeks flush at the compliment. “If you want, you can hang it over your bed. Help settle your mind when the wind's blowing too loud.”
My throat catches. Does this man ever stop thinking about my comfort and safety?
Setting it carefully on my lap, I reach out and thread my fingers through his beard. “Can you come help me try it out?”
He nods, looking pleased, and after extinguishing the lamp, we head back to my bedroom.
I climb into bed, settling back against my pillow as he hangs the dream catcher from the brass rail.
The beads and shells tinkle quietly, but my attention is all on Hog.
When he’s done, he strips down to his tank and boxers and joins me under the covers.
I wait for his arm to settle around me before turning to see his face.
There’s enough moonlight from the window to trace the lines of strain on his brow, and I can tell he’s got something on his mind.
“What you said earlier about Charlie,” he says quietly, “I don’t mind that he was closer to the other guys.
But don’t ever think you’re second best to me. ”
I press my chin into his chest, stroking my fingers through his beard. “I don’t. But being any kind of best is a new concept to me.”
His mouth turns down. I think I’ve spoiled the mood again, but he jerks forward and catches my hand, kissing my fingertips. “Like I said, keep me close and I’ll do my best to change your mind.”
I hum in approval, lifting up to press my lips to his. He tastes like whiskey and smoky almonds, and I tilt my neck in invitation. “You can start by kissing away my bruises.”
He wraps a big palm around my neck, but instead of kissing it, he brushes a finger over the gauze patch. “The stitches should have dissolved. Can I take this off now?” I nod and he peels it away, peering at the wound. “It looks good. It’s healing well.”
His breath is warm on my skin, but I arch my neck a little more. “Don’t you have to get closer to tell?”
Hog goes still, his voice dropping to a deeper register. “Omega, are you asking me to touch your scent gland?”
Panic flutters in my chest, but I shove the instinct down hard.
If I’m going to trust Hog, I need to get comfortable with having him close.
I need to know him and let him know me. It might take me a while to share the parts that I guard the most fiercely, but we have to start somewhere. “I want you to kiss it. No one’s ever…”
I don’t get any further because his lips press against my throat, the tip of his tongue sliding over the sensitive skin.
I shudder, my head falling back as I clutch his arms. He nuzzles me, his other hand tangling in my hair.
He’s careful not to scratch me with his beard, but I suck in a sharp breath as his lips close over the gland.
He sucks me softly and desire throbs through me, making my thighs clench. My core tightens and as I feel myself growing slick, I press against him, my nails leaving half moons on his arms.
“Omega…” He growls, his voice thick with arousal. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Sweet and salty. Fire and ice.”
I can do without the ice, but the fire is igniting in my veins, sending sparks down my limbs. I press him back against the bed and crawl over him, straddling his hips. “More,” I murmur, leaning down and offering my neck. “Taste me again. I want to feel your mouth everywhere.”