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“Don’t shout,” Logan says, moving to stand in front of me with a whiff of butterscotch and bourbon that makes my confused omega instincts wild and my thighs press together. “You’re scaring her.”

“I’m not scared,” I say somewhat petulantly and also lying through my teeth, seeing as I’m still tucked into Ethan’s body like he’s a lean-to in the woods on a rainy night.

Luca shakes his head. “I didn’t kidnap her. We’re bonded.” He motions at me with one hand, but doesn’t move his eyes from his prime alpha. “I can feel her in here.” The same hand bumps his chest. “I physically couldn’t leave her right after biting her. My alpha would have freaked the fuck out. So she’s here for the weekend to just ease the bond, okay?”

My frown deepens the more that Luca talks. It sounds an awful lot like he doesn’t actually want me here. Like this is all an unfortunate accident that we have to just deal with. It shouldn’t hurt, because it is an unfortunate accident that we have to deal with. But it does.

Shoving the feeling away, I force myself to step out of the shelter of Ethan’s body. I refuse to be a coward. I don’t hide from alphas. I never have and I never fucking will. No matter if I’m an omega now.

“If you won’t let me leave, is there a room I can use? I’m tired.”

Ethan’s hand presses into my lower back. “I’ll show you.”

“No, you fucking won’t.” Maddox bites out. “We need to have a pack meeting right fucking now.” He jerks a hand and points down a long dark hall on the right-hand side of the open concept living room. “Third door on the left.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see Luca open his mouth like he might protest, but then he snaps it closed. I jump slightly when Ethan carefully drapes my bag over my shoulder, then presses a soft kiss to my temple. “Get some sleep, baby. We’ll see you in the morning.”

I hitch the strap up, curling my fingers around it like it’s my goddamn anchor and, without looking at anyone, head down the hall.

“It might not stick,” Logan muses to my retreating back in the lilting accent of his. Irish, I think. But I know he’s not talking to me. So I keep moving, at least until I’m out of sight. So far in the dark hall, I can just barely make out their voices.

“It’ll stick,” Luca grumbles, sounding frustrated by the fact. “Its so strong already.”

“Shut up, asshole. What do you mean, Logan?” Maddox says.

“Well, she wasn’t in heat when you bit her, right? Or a preheat spike?” Ethan or Luca must give a silent negative response, because he continues. “Then it might not stick. Most lasting mating bonds form during a heat.”

“Most but not all,” Ethan sounds like he’s moving farther away from me. Actually, they all do. Maybe upstairs?

“Look.” The frustration in Luca’s voice has only grown. “I’m telling you it’s going to fucking stick. I can feel it.”

“But it might not.” For the first time, Maddox doesn’t sound so pissed. Dare I say he sounds almost hopeful as they all make their way up the stairs together. I linger in the hall until I hear a door click shut upstairs. Just one door.

Not multiple. I wonder if they all share a bedroom, or if they just went into a study or a den to have the aforementioned pack meeting.

It’s dumb, but this new omega part of me feels dejected at the thought of the four of them meeting without me. Like I should be a part of the pack because of the bite on my neck. I swallow down a whine along with that rejected feeling, and retreat farther down the hall until I reach the third door on the left and push it open.

It’s… a room. That’s about all I can say about it. Bland colors, no knickknacks or decorations. There’s a bed, a closet and a single chair. There isn’t even a window. Which I guess makes sense seeing as this in an interior room. No bedside table, no lamp. It’s more like a jail cell than a bedroom.

Maddox’s feelings about me being here couldn’t be more clear.

Dropping my bag to the floor, I perch on the edge of the bed that at least feels soft. Groaning, I kick off my tennies and then stare at the empty wall. I’m exhausted, achy and… sticky. I smell like Luca and Ethan, and I could really go for a shower before I climb into clean pajamas and bed. I should have asked where a bathroom is that I can use, but I thought they’d put their new omega in a room that at least had an en suite.

I grab up my bag and pad back into the hall on sock covered feet. Heading back toward the living room and opening doors as I go. Another bedroom, just as sparse as the one I’m in, but bigger. A fully stocked gym with floor to ceiling windows, looking out over the city.

The fourth door is a bathroom that is as close to a spa as I’ve seen in a private residence. But I imagine this is actually the least fancy bathroom in the penthouse. A wet room takes up the far side of the room, a gorgeous white tub on one side, so many shower heads I lose count on the other. Frosted floor to ceiling windows line the back wall. Hand painted light teal tiles, laid in a herringbone pattern, cover the floor and halfway up the walls, a double vanity with a white quartz countertop.

It's freaking gorgeous and I am going to use the crap out of it. I don’t care if Maddox doesn’t want me here.

I drop my bag on the counter and kick the door closed behind me, already halfway through pulling off my shirt. If I wasn’t so freaking exhausted, I would totally make use of the tub. But as it is, when I’ve shed my clothing, I flick on the rain shower and wait for the water to heat before ducking under the spray.

I use the fancy products lining the nook shelf, and by the time I step out ten minutes later, I feel more like myself. Not quite my beta self, but as close as I’ve felt since Luca dropped the bomb that we’re mated.

Almost like he knows I’m thinking about him, there’s a gentle tug on our bond. A check in, I think. I don’t send one back. I’m too busy filtering through my clothes. Normally I sleep naked. I get hot at night, and having less clothing makes the most sense. But spending any amount of time naked in this house is a bad idea. So I pull on a pair of gray boyshort panties and a black cropped tank top, wrinkling my nose at the familiar beta scent that clings to them.

I’ve never had a problem with my own scent. Never found a beta scent unpleasant. That’s kind of their deal. Unobtrusive, soothing, fresh. All words to describe beta scent. But now I can barely stomach what I used to smell like. Growling, I yank up my crop top and rub it over my neck, where scent is the strongest.

It helps, but still isn’t great.

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