Chapter 9 #2
"Vee!" Drake's voice is too bright. Forced cheerful. "You're just in time. We're playing Ticket to Ride. You love trains."
"I don't love trains. I'm just good at this game."
"Same thing." He pats the floor beside him. "Come on. Be on my team."
I hesitate, then sink down next to Eli instead. Close enough that our thighs touch.
He doesn't comment. Just hands me a set of train cards and murmurs, "Blue routes are still your favorite, right?"
"Always."
The game starts.
It's easier than I expected. The rules are clear. The objectives simple. Build routes, score points, don't overthink it.
I lean into Eli's side, and after a moment, I shift to sit fully in his lap. His arms come around my waist automatically, chin resting on my shoulder so he can see my cards.
"Sneaky," he murmurs when I claim a route that blocks Drake's path.
"Strategic."
His quiet laugh rumbles through his chest into my back.
I don't notice Marie's expression tightening until she moves.
She stands, walks to Ragon, and settles herself deliberately in his lap.
Not casual. Not natural. Planted.
Ragon's hands come up to steady her, one splaying across her stomach, and he doesn't tell her to move.
I feel Jasper's gaze flick between us. Assessing. Filing it away.
The game continues.
Marie gets louder. More animated. She laughs at Ragon's moves, praises his strategies, presses back against him like she's trying to meld into his body.
Ragon indulges her.
Eli's arms tighten around me just slightly.
When Eli's phone buzzes halfway through the second game, I already know what it means.
He pulls it out, reads the screen, and sighs. "Hospital."
"Emergency?"
"They're short-staffed. I need to cover a shift." He presses a kiss to my temple. "Sorry, love."
"It's fine." I start to extract myself from his lap.
"Drake," Eli says, catching his attention. "Trade me?"
Drake looks up from his cards, sees me, and grins. "Come here, trouble."
I move to him, settling into his lap with less grace than I had with Eli. Drake's arms come around me immediately, warmer and looser than Eli's controlled hold.
"There we go," he says, chin hooking over my shoulder. "Now I have a good luck charm."
"I'm not playing for you."
"You're sitting on me. Close enough."
I relax into him despite myself. Drake's scent—citrus and sunshine—is harder to stay tense around.
The game goes on for another hour. I let the familiar rhythm of it soak into me.
It’s so much easier to exist here, in this room, with my pack and the afternoon light and the click of little colored trains on the board, than it is to think about anything else.
I don’t even register, at first, that Jasper is answering questions.
But then I tune in to him, the way the others are watching him with that intense, evaluating interest that means they care what he says. Drake asks first, leaning in, “So, what did you do before you moved here?”
Jasper explains he worked construction, mostly. Site management. He’s good with his hands. I believe it. When Ragon asks about his old houses, Jasper tilts his head, thinking.
“I moved around some,” he says. “A couple packs. Some nice enough, but… it never fit. There was always a gap, something missing. Not the wrong people, just the wrong combination.”
Marie’s eyes soften. “But you think this will be different?”
Jasper glances at her, then at me and the rest of the room. For a second, I think he might not answer at all.
Then he says quietly, “I think I can be useful here. I think this pack needs someone with an outside perspective.”
I snuggle into Drake, relaxing into a sleepy stupor as they continue talking.
For about ten minutes, it's nice.
Then Marie shifts.
"Drake, can you help me with something in the kitchen?"
"Now?" He doesn't move. "We're mid-game."
"It'll just take a second. Please?"
Her voice does that thing. That soft, pleading omega thing that alphas are biologically wired to respond to.
Drake's body tenses beneath me. "Uh—"
"I'll take her," Ragon says.
Before I can protest, Ragon's hands close around my waist, lifting me off Drake and settling me into his own lap instead.
Drake stands, shooting me an apologetic look before following Marie to the kitchen.
I sit stiffly in Ragon's hold.
His arms come around me, but it feels different. Perfunctory. Like he's filling a space rather than wanting me there.
"Relax," he murmurs.
I can't.
His scent is all wrong right now—still holding traces of dominance from earlier, still edged with the irritation I caused. Sitting in his lap doesn't feel like comfort.
It feels like damage control.
Like he's only holding me because it would look bad if he didn't. Because he needs to keep the peace between his two omegas and this is the most efficient solution.
I force myself to stay still. Force myself not to pull away.
But everything in me is screaming that this is wrong.
Across the room, Jasper draws a card, plays his turn, and says nothing.
But I feel his eyes on us.
Cataloging. Noting. Adding it to whatever mental file he's building about this pack's dynamics.
Later, we all decide to watch a movie.
When the movie starts—some action thing Drake picked—I'm still in Ragon's lap.
Marie is back, curled into Drake's side on the couch. Whatever she needed help with in the kitchen is apparently resolved.
I sit rigid against Ragon's chest, his arms loose around my waist.
The opening credits roll. Explosions on screen. Someone's phone buzzes and gets silenced.
I stare at the TV and don't process a single thing happening.
All I can think about is how much I want to be in Eli's lap instead. Or Drake's. Or anywhere but here, being held by an alpha who corrected me an hour ago and is now touching me out of obligation.
Ragon's thumb moves in absent circles against my hip.
The gesture is meant to be soothing.
It just makes me feel more alone.
Halfway through the movie, Jasper stands and excuses himself quietly. He doesn't say where he's going. He just leaves.
I don't blame him.
If I could leave my own body right now, I would.
When the movie ends and people start shuffling off to bed, Ragon's arms finally loosen.
I stand immediately, putting distance between us.
"Vee," he says quietly.
I don't turn around. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
"We should talk about earlier."
"I apologized. I meant it. We're done."
"Vee—"
"Good night, Ragon."
I leave before he can push further.
In my nest, I pull the blankets over my head and try to pretend today didn't happen.
But I can still feel the phantom weight of Ragon's arms around me. Still feel the difference between being held because an alpha wants you versus being held because an alpha is managing you.
My nest feels cold and empty. The sleep schedule didn’t last. There was always one thing or another coming up to disrupt it.
Drake or Eli getting called in to work. Ragon having a stomach bug that kept him away on my night.
Marie having a nightmare that landed all three of the alphas in her room at once to comfort her.
That was the first night I’d slept alone without asking for it. It wasn’t the last.
I eventually fall asleep feeling more alone than I have since Marie arrived.
And that's saying something.