“Maybe he’s ready to move forward?” Myrick says in a hushed tone. He speaks like this is all one big secret. I feel so privileged that they’re sharing it with me. I understand that I’m technically a member of their pack, but I’m still basically a stranger.
“I’m not going to hold my breath.” Rhett lifts the phone to his ear. “Shannon? I need the projections for next quarter. Yes. The revised ones. And the growth metrics from the Cooper proposal, too.” His voice is sharp, all business now.
“Come on.” Myrick touches my knee, his tone instantly warm again. “Why don’t you wash up? I’ll make your tea.”
A shower and something fresh from the oven does sound heavenly, especially with my nerves still tangled up in last night and this morning. “Okay,” I whisper, tugging down the hem of my shirt as I inch toward the edge of the bed.
Rhett’s eyes flicker to me, then back to the wall, his phone still pressed to his ear.
“Take your time,” Myrick says from the doorway, pausing to give me a look so tender it makes my heart skip. Like I’m not just wanted—but treasured. “I’ll have everything ready when you’re out.”
Rhett ends the call and crosses the room again, this time without the tension he carried before. “Come on,” he murmurs, threading his fingers through mine. “I’ll start the shower for you.”
Something blooms inside me—warm and fluttering. So this is what it’s like to be taken care of.
At the threshold of the bathroom, he turns, leaning in close. His voice drops to a rumble meant only for me. “I’m sorry I left you like that, sweetheart. This meeting’s important,but I swear—I’m going to make it up to you.” He brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “Once I get back from the office tonight, I’m going to own every inch of you.”
A fresh rush of heat moves through me, and I nod, unsure if I can speak.
They want me,I repeat in my mind as Rhett twists the knobs and steam begins to rise.They want me. They want me.
The fear from last night hasn’t disappeared entirely—but in this moment, it feels a little farther away.
In the Kitchen
Charlie
Leaning against the counter,all I can think about is Autry’s breathy moans. I didn’t mean to listen in on their private moment. Honestly, I had only left my room in search of some breakfast. But the moment I heard those soft, desperate sounds, I froze. And then I moved closer.
It was wrong. I know it was wrong. But I couldn’t stop myself.
Autry came, long and loud, and her scent—sweet, like lemons soaked in honey. It washed over me in waves, leaving me completely breathless. I’d never experienced anything like it. Not even close.
Even now, the memory of it lingers. My mouth waters. My skin prickles. Her arousal still clinging to my nose, and I can even scent Rhett—his alpha musk layered beneath hers.
It’s shocking.
And it makes no sense.
Betas have a muted sense of smell compared to other dynamics. We can’t pick up the delicate shift ofpheromones or the subtle change of emotion in the air—I’ve never once “smelled” sex. But with Autry? It’s like my body’s rewriting the rules.
Betas and omegas can’t be fated mates,I remind myself. Only alphas and omegas.
But right now, standing in this incredibly fancy kitchen, I can’t help but wonder if the universe has brought us together for a reason. Like I’m meant to be part of this—part of her story.
Even if it feels like I muscled my way in.
My stomach growls, and I glance back at my toast, still warming up in the toaster. It took me a good ten minutes to find the dang thing. This kitchen is sleek and spotless with everything hidden away in a drawer or cabinet. Except for the fanciest coffeemaker I’ve ever seen in my life. The big black machine looks like it belongs in a spaceship, but everything else is clean and sleek. I believe they call it modern.
The upper cabinets and backsplash are white, the granite countertop is black with dark gray cabinets underneath, and the kitchen island is a deep navy blue with a thick wooden countertop. All the appliances and fixtures are a mixture of brushed black metal and shiny gold.
It’s beautiful, but I’ve never felt so out of place in my life.
“Morning,” Myrick says warmly as he enters the kitchen.
I straighten and give him a polite smile. “Good morning.”
He doesn’t seem tense like I expected. If anything, he looks relaxed. Friendly. The beta looks half-asleep in his plush forest-green pajama pants and a navy silk robe. The outfit is somehow still very fancy. I, on the other hand, look like I wandered out of a middle school slumber party.
