by Kathryn Moon
“Mmm, paint chips and sketching and talking my client into a minor remodel,” Caleb said. He pulled a small envelope from his coat pocket and set it down in front of me. “You don’t by any chance have any interest in ballet, do you?”
My eyes widened and my breath caught. “Umm, if by interest you mean I was a proud tutu owning little girl who dreamed of being a prima ballerina but never actually practiced pointing my toes, then yes. Some interest.”
Caleb looked as giddy as I was sure I did in that moment. If what I thought was in that envelope…
They just feel bad that your life is such a mess. This is pity.
Fuck off, I answered myself.
“I did the interior at the new opera house a few years ago, and I still have a box and a season pass. Would you like to see Juliet and the Montagues with me?”
I restrained my happy squirming and nodded quickly. “Yes. Definitely. Please, please, please!”
Sure, it was the story of a beautiful young omega coveted by the rival pack of her family, but it was one of the most beautifully tragic stories of its kind and a pretty ballet. And anyway, I wanted to go. I didn’t need to judge myself just because the heroine was an omega and I wasn’t.
“Perfect. I usually have to twist this pack’s arm to see a performance with me,” Caleb said, raising an eyebrow at Rake.
“Then I guess we needed Lola so you’d have a pretty date who is as excited about hours spent sitting in a dark theater listening to dusty classical music as you are,” Rake answered.
“Okay, Prokofiev isn’t dusty,” I volleyed back.
“Thank you,” Caleb said with a nod of support.
“Today she made me go see a terrible action movie,” Wes muttered, moving to the other side of the island.
“I made you?” I scoffed.
He grinned at me across the space and shrugged. “My ears are still ringing from all the explosions, sweetheart.”
“Maybe you should’ve turned down your hearing aid, old man,” I swatted back. I wasn’t really sure how old Wes was, not too much younger than Matthieu, if I had to guess.
Rake cackled and a sleep rumpled Leo came plodding into the kitchen, heading directly to cuddle against Caleb and squeezing my hand as he reached us.
“What have I missed?” Leo mumbled.
Matthieu was on my other side now, leaning against my shoulder, his nose nuzzling the top of my head as he added items aimlessly to our order—I refused to look at the total at this point. The others caught Leo up on the conversation, him smiling vaguely as everyone spoke over one another.
This was nice. This was more than nice, it was what I’d always wanted, this feeling of belonging and love. This was what a pack was.
I wanted it to be mine.
Six
Lola
“Honestly, returning all of this would be pointless,” Rake said, crossing his arms over his chest and sticking his chin out. “It’s not like I got these at a department store and have receipts, Lola.”
“You don’t have receipts?” I snapped, staring at the overflowing contents of the guest room closet.
Rake examined his fingernails carefully, hip propped against the long teak dresser. Which was also full. “I deleted the emails.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, right down to the nervous jiggle of his heel over the floor. “Liar,” I said.
Rake’s arms spread wide, voice rising. “What? It’s just…it’s just a gift, okay? What else are you going to do for clothing?”
“I have money, Rake!” Not a lot. Not enough to replace what I’d lost, but I could cover my rent and some clothes with my paychecks, it would just take time.
Rake made a dismissive sound and rolled his eyes, and I clenched my fists.
“What? What does that mean?!”
His hands raised in false surrender, expression every bit as argumentative as a moment ago. “Nothing! You just don’t have to use it! I have money too. I used mine on this. How is this any different than Matthieu buying you things, or the trip to Malta, or the ballet?”
My breath was ragged and I whipped around, giving Rake my back as I tried to rein in the torrent in my chest. He was right. One after the other, I’d been using this pack in little ways. Or not so little. A trip to Malta wasn’t little. The ballet wasn’t. God, my fucking job wasn’t little either, and I still had that because of the pack too.
Pretending to play the feelings game when all you want is presents and someone telling you you’re worth something so they can get you on your back. The words hissed through my head, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I tried to swallow the whine but it was halfway out already, and I paced to the window, sinking down at the side of the guest bed.
“Lola, I—”
“Rake, out.” Cyrus appeared, cutting Rake’s soft words off with sharp precision.
“But—”
“Out,” Cyrus said, power in the word.
Tears stung my eyes. Excellent. Now I’d gotten Rake in trouble with one of his alphas.
You’re doing a great job here, fucking idiot.
The door to the bedroom shut quietly, and I released a hiccuping whimper, thinking I was alone until soft footsteps shuffled against the carpet. Fuck. I raised my knees and covered my face with my hands as Cyrus sank down at my side, his long limbs filling up the space and almost pinning me in.
“He’s not used to not getting his way,” Cyrus murmured softly. “Matthieu’s the only one who really bothers trying to rein Rake in, and mostly Rake’s learned to just skip consulting Matt at all.”
“It’s not his fault. I’ve been taking advantage,” I said, squeezing the words out through my tight throat.
Cyrus was quiet. He was close, and his bubbly scent was muted, something silkier in its place. He didn’t reach out and draw me to him like any of the others would’ve, and I was grateful for the fact.
“I’m trying to see your point, and I’m failing,” Cyrus said eventually.
I lifted my head and frowned at him, and his gaze darkened, brow tightening when he saw my face. I wiped the tears away in a rush and shook my head.
“How are you failing? An unbonded beta attached herself to your pack, attended your omega’s heat, landed herself in your house, and now I’ve…” I growled at the sight of the clothes Rake and I had been arguing over a moment ago. It’d started when another delivery arrived and then escalated when Rake had tried to coax me out of my reservation by getting me to try things on. Somewhere in the mix, it’d turned into an actual fight, one where I’d really wanted to stomp out of the room or alternately hit Rake for being such a bull-headed little…
Brat.
“Is that how you fucking talk to yourself?” Cyrus asked, gaping at me. “Jesus, Lola. That’s not okay, that’s not what happened, and you know that.”
Screw you, tears. Take a hike.
Cyrus sighed and turned around, facing me as he leaned against the wall but still offering space. “Is that what you think we see when we look at you? Or people at Designate?”
I shook my head. I knew the pack didn’t think that about me right now, but later…
“I think Rake is taking advantage of you, not the other way around,” Cyrus said with a shrug.
“What? No he’s not!”
Cyrus gazed at the closet and hummed in thought. “I mean, isn’t he? You’re in a very vulnerable position—your home isn’t safe for you to be in, and you’ve lost a giant portion of your possessions. Rake’s trying to use that as a means of making you accept what is absolutely a ridiculous gift. One which could create an uncomfortable power shift between the two of you.”
“He wouldn’t use it like that,” I said.
“No, he wouldn’t,” Cyrus agreed readily. “But it’s understandable that you would be wary.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. Mostly I’d felt that the gesture was wasted on me. Not because I didn’t like the clothes, I loved the clothes, but because I…wasn’t worth it. Aw, fuck. I really needed to f
ind that fucking therapist, didn’t I?
“He was being nice,” I said softly.
Did this mean I had to just accept the clothes? Cyrus was…his own kind of tricky, wasn’t he?
But no, Cyrus was laughing a little, trying and failing to stop himself. “Sorry, it’s just…I know Rake, and I’m sure the idea of being nice was involved, but it wasn’t the main motivator. He was just trying to win you. I mean, I think in his mind it was going to go a lot more smoothly than this. You’d see the clothes, you’d love them, you’d be excited like you were over the ballet tickets, and you’d appreciate him."
I puffed out a long slow breath. Because Rake’s alphas and I were now becoming involved, and Rake was used to people working him for his alphas. Did he really think I would lose interest in him now that I was spending time with the others? Maybe not consciously, but if anyone was aware of what a bitch the subconscious could be, it was me.
“For the record, I don’t think you have to accept the clothes if you don’t want to. I just think Rake might let it go with a bit of direct conversation. There’s probably something he’d be happy to hear in exchange of ‘fine, the clothes can stay,’” Cyrus said, widening his eyes significantly.
I blushed and nodded. “Yeah, I hear you. I’ll go talk to him.”
I rose up and Cyrus followed me, but when I made to step around the bed one of his hands caught my wrist, and the other snagged my chin. His grip was stern, firm enough to make me startle and remember that I was alone with an alpha in a way I rarely ever considered the men of this pack. He wasn’t dangerous, but in this moment he was intense.
“One more thing,” Cyrus said lowly, his body bowing over mine.
I wasn’t scared, but I was clearly caught in the snare of an alpha powerful enough to bend my will if he wanted to.
“I don’t ever want to hear you speak about yourself that way again. You can question whether or not you are satisfied with your place here with us, but never your worth. Do you understand me?”
My breath was shallow, goosebumps sharp on my skin and body just at the edge of trembling. This was the Cyrus Rake had mentioned, and no, I was not quite ready for him. But fuck, I totally hoped I would be soon. Setting achievable goals is important, I reminded myself.
I nodded and swallowed. “I understand.”
Cyrus bent a little more, lips grazing over my forehead to leave a warm and sparkling kiss on my skin, and then I was released. “Cool. Come on, I’ll show you my best guess for which of his little nooks Rake went to for sulking.”
Cool?? Cool, cool. I’m a hella intense alpha in secret, who can turn the bark on in like a second flat and make your panties wet just as fast. Super cool.
“How’s Designate been since Wendy left?” I asked, following Cyrus down the hall and around the long windowed corridor that overlooked the back garden.
“Definitely buzzing. Betty tried to stir some shit and…I went ahead and fired her.”
“Cyrus,” I started.
“It wasn’t about you, I promise. Anyway, I think Zane had a crisis of faith because he came to me with a big confession, a stack of information on Wendy’s contact and plans, and a major plea for his job,” Cyrus said.
“Oh, damn. Have…have you considered he might be staying for Wendy’s sake though?”
“Yeah. He seemed genuine in our conversation, but at the same time, I think he could flip all over again if he felt like it. I plan on moving him out of Beauty and, before you ask, that is a little bit for your sake.” Cyrus stopped in front of a bookshelf at the end of the corridor and turned to face me.
“Really? Because I think the farther Zane is from me, the more comfortable he’ll be spreading gossip about me,” I said.
Cyrus smiled, gaze warming. “You think I should let him sweat it out with you guys? Anna and Corey are team Lola all the way. I don’t know what I missed when I went to see Matthieu after you left, but I know by the time I came back, Betty’s ego was about five pounds lighter than before.”
My lips twitched. “Is that evil of me?”
Cyrus laughed and shook his head. “Only in a way I admire. Here,” he said, turning back to the bookshelf and sliding a bookend to the right to reveal a door latch. He pulled it down and the shelf popped forward, the scent of burnt chocolate slipping out from the crack. “That’s him,” Cyrus whispered.
I nodded, and Cyrus pulled the door open for me. Just when I thought I knew all the surprises of this ridiculously pretty house, I found a room like this. The glass wall that overlooked the garden continued, and it was almost like being perched in a treehouse, branches of a white birch extending like a frame around the small narrow room. The walls were painted a deep brown, and the carpet under my feet was plush. There was no bed, like in most of Rake’s other nooks, and no alpha scents either, just a few plushy bean bag chairs and a large basket of blankets and pillows. This space was Rake’s and Rake’s alone, which left me feeling like an intruder.
Rake was slouched at the far end of the room, sitting on a large cushion with his back against a bean bag. He was staring at his own hands, forearms resting on his raised knees, but I knew he hadn’t missed my arrival. He looked pale, and I wanted to fall into his lap and kiss him until he was blushing and smiling again.
“How badly did I fuck up?” Rake asked, all the brightness rinsed out of his words.
I shut the door behind me and moved through the mess of cozy to kneel at his side, leaning into the same bean bag and glancing out the window. Through the birch branches, Rake had a clear view of the park behind the house, where some kids were racing through the green.
“Rake, I love you.”
His head shot up, whipping to face me, and I turned my own to meet his shocked gaze. “Wait, what? Lola, I—” A smile cracked over his mouth even as his brow folded in confusion. “I… Fuck, Lola, I love you too! That’s why I…I just don’t want you to be worried about what to do next, or to have to think about that asshole every time you need a dress for an event or—”
I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes, and Rake stopped abruptly. “You know that I know you started buying a lot of that before Indy broke into my apartment, right?”
Rake blushed and swallowed hard. “Okay…yeah. But I wasn’t planning on dropping it all in your lap at once or anything. And look, I do see the difference between me, you know, buying you a wardrobe and Caleb taking you to the theater. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You shouldn’t have, but my issues with how to accept letting this pack into my life need to be resolved, and I have to handle that on my own.” I waved my hand through the air. “I don’t wanna get into all of this again I just… Listen, the shopping thing stops now, okay?”
Rake’s expression hardened, just a little, enough for me to know that he wasn’t sold on the idea.
“I don’t need you to buy me things for me to appreciate having you in my life, Rake. I don’t need it from any of you,” I said, and hurried as he opened his mouth to object. “Also, I do have personal taste, you know. I would love for you to come with me when I shop and help me pick things out. And gifts are not off the table, but I want our exchanges to be relatively even and this was not. That sits weird with me.”
Rake combed a finger through his curls, ones he seemed to be letting grow out just because I liked running my own fingers through them. So I reached up and did so, digging in at the back of his neck and making him sigh and soften.
“Okay, yeah that’s fair,” Rake said nodding. He winced and asked, “Does that mean I have to return everything? I didn’t actually delete the receipts, I was just being a dick. But it would make for some awkward conversations with designers.”
I sighed and snuggled into Rake’s side, all my tension unraveling as his scent sweetened and he cuddled me close. “Not everything. We can go through stuff, and I’ll pick my keep pile and you pick whatever you picked just because you really wanted to see me in it—”
“That would be everything.”
“That’s what tailoring is for. Ouch!” Rake jumped as I pinched his nipple hard and twisted. “Okay, okay. I’m with you. I agree…I’m…I’m sorry, Lollipop.” He hummed and nuzzled my forehead. “I love you. I’m glad you’re developing relationships with the others, and I know they don’t lessen what we have. You’ve made that clear. I got carried away with the whole spoiling you thing, and it probably did turn into a little bit of a power flex.”
“I love you too, and no alpha changes that.”
“Not to argue, but if anything, it makes everything stronger. Especially with Caleb. It’s hard to explain the bond, but things growing between you…I can feel it. It’s like I get to know the parts of you that Caleb values, and I see you through his eyes too,” Rake said.
I pressed my warm cheek to Rake’s shoulder and resisted the urge to squirm into his lap. Instead, I raised my head and accepted his ready kiss, drinking up one after another of the soft, silky passes of his lips over mine.
“Speaking of, want to help me pick out what I’ll wear to the ballet tomorrow night?”
Rake’s eyes lit up. “You know I do. Also…” His lips twisted nervously and I nodded for him to continue. “Okay, how opposed are you to me taking you to a spa for pampering?”
I fought my eyes very hard and forced them not to roll. “Maybe another time,” I said carefully. “But I will trade you a spa day in exchange for me pinning you to the bed and locking you, and then the two of us doing some in-house pampering. It’s not like you don’t have all the supplies and—”
I squealed as Rake pushed me back to the floor, climbing on top of me and sliding between my legs, his hips already pumping and his smile glowing.
“Lollipop, you can’t just talk like that and not expect to get me hard as a rock. I fuck you now, we pick out clothes, you make my brain explode after, and then we pamper.” His hands were fumbling over and under my clothes, his fingers wiggling into one leg of the shorts I was wearing to rub quickly over my clit.