“Why is he so grumpy?” Jeremy huffs softly, crossing his arms.
“We had a little incident.” Basil smiles. It’s boyish and charming.I hate it.
“With what?” Jeremy asks. He looks genuinely concerned. “Do you mean Bosco’s men? I would have thought he’d love to fight a bit.”
I jerk at that.He loves to fight.Of course, he does. I knew he was the most dangerous one.
“Not quite.” Killian steps up to Jeremy’s side. He leans down, bringing his lips to the beta’s ear, “Our new omega stabbed him.” The alpha’s dark blue eyes meet mine and I snarl. He lets out a deep chuckle, letting the shocking fact hang in the air, before turning and walking off.
Jeremy looks at me, his eyes wide with shock. “Really?”
“It’s a fucking scratch,” Tristan’s deep voice booms from somewhere inside the house. I angle my head, trying to see him, but all I can see is a sliver of a white wall.
“I’m so sorry.” Jeremy inches a little closer to me. I look him up and down, wary of his apologetic tone. “What did Tristan do?” His voice is soft. Concerned. It’s a little weird. I expected him to be angry, or maybe even scared of me, but he looks worried for me.What is wrong with this pack?“Was he mean to you?” Worry twists between Jeremy’s dark brows. “Tristan isn’t great at making first impressions, but I promise he’s a good alpha. He’s very gentle and protective, even if he is loud and kind of forceful sometimes.”
I open my mouth to speak, then pause, trying to figure out what to say. I mean, I attacked his packmate. Why isn’t he pissed? “You aren’t worried about him?” I finally ask.
“About Tristan?” Jeremy glances back at the house, and I nod. “God, no.” He lets out a little laugh. “I swear someone could cut that man’s right hand off and his biggest concern would be how he’d cut his steak.”
I lean back, baffled by this pack’s seemingly easy attitude about everything. This is definitely a trick. They have to be pretending, waiting for me to settle in before they show their real selves.That’s the only thing that makes sense.
“Come on.” Jeremy pats the back of my hand. “Let’s get you washed up.”
I follow, deciding that I’ll wash up and enjoy the meal, before figuring out my next move. Running off without preparing isn’t a great idea. I need to make a plan, then get the hell out of here, but I could use a hot meal. And a bath. And maybe a good night’s sleep.
One night here won’t kill me.
I mean, what could possibly happen?
It’s just a bath.
Inside the House
Beth
We step inside the house,and I’m immediately greeted by a large white wall of…warmth!
The whole house is toasty, but I don’t see a fireplace anywhere. Maybe they have air conditioning. My beta father, Scott, frequently talks about the machines. They make houses cold or hot depending on the season. He always says he misses those little comforts, but it’s hard to imagine something that can warm anentirehouse.
“That way is the living room and kitchen,” Jeremy points left. All I can see is the edge of the floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, there are several branches of the big oak tree and a sliver of mountains in the distance. But that’s it. “And this way is everything else.” He leads me to the right, holding my hand softly in his.
I slowly wiggle free, and thankfully he releases me. He doesn’t scare me or anything like that. I’m just a little overstimulated at the moment.
Following the beta closely, I scent the air around him as we move down the long hallway. He smells subtle. Like sage and lemon. It’s uncharacteristically bright for a beta…or at least that’s what my mom says. Omegas smell sweet, alphas smell strong, and most betas are subtle. My own beta father smells like a faint spring breeze, but Linden smells like nothing.
My mom always said to be wary of betas that have no scent. It means they aren’t compatible with pack life, but I think that’s bullshit. Linden is a good man with a good heart.
He’ll make a wonderful mate one day.
“Do you like hot tubs?” Jeremy looks over his shoulder at me. I don’t respond, keeping my expression blank. I don't want him to know how clueless I am. The beta’s smile pulls a little tight when I don’t answer, but he doesn't linger on it. Instead, he doubles down on his bubbly energy and begins to talk excitedly about the pieces of art hanging on the walls. They’re nice—lots of flowers, deer, and mountain ranges—but why put that on your wall? You can see all that stuff by looking out the window.
We hit the end of the hallway and turn the corner. My eyes go wide as we pass a long glass wall with a few weird machines inside. They’re all black with levers and cords hanging off of them.
“That’s the gym.” Jeremy points at the weird machines. “Obviously.” He lets out a little laugh. “The hot tub is in a little room in the back.”
Gym?I silently repeat the word, trying to figure out what it could be. I assume a hot tub is a wash bin made for extra hot water, but “gym” is a totally new word. Not wanting to give away how little I know, I turn and stare at a little door tucked beneath the long staircase.
Jeremy follows my gaze and rushes to the door. “This is the laundry room,” he says excitedly. Then he pushes it open to reveal a spacious tiled room with two large white boxes. One of them has a circular window in the front. It hums and spins, flinging around something wet inside of it. Clothes?
