Alex nods once, then reaches for the radio dial. The cab fills with noise—harsh guitars and guttural vocals—drowning out Carler’s pleas until all that’s left is the hum of the road beneath us.
Home
Skyla
The smellof garlic and butter fills the kitchen, spicy and warm, and a little overwhelming. Tadeo’s at the stove, stirring the chorizo and peppers that are starting to sizzle, while I cut thick pieces of bread to toast. It feels easy and normal in a way that still surprises me.
Tadeo worked from home today, occasionally checking in on me and Dakota. Alex had to finish a job with Knox. At first, the house felt somehow quieter, until around lunchtime when Tadeo wandered out of his room. Since then, he and Dakota have worked hard to make me smile—Dakota with his endless chatter and silly jokes, and Tadeo with quiet patience and soft touches. I keep trying to meet them halfway, to act light and fine and normal. But something in me feels... stuck.
I can’t shake the panic that slammed into me at the department store. It’s been clinging to the inside of my head ever since.
Every time one of them looks at me for too long, or one of their hands lingers on my back, I can’t stop wondering how long it’ll be before they’ll get tired of waiting for my heat. Before they realize I’m not worth the effort.
The thoughts loop all day and well into the night until I finally drift off—only to wake up sweating, breath caught in my throat, from dreams of Knox leaving me alone and scared in the woods. Sometimes it’s not only him. Sometimes it’s all of them.
“Did I tell you how I met the pack?” Dakota’s cheerful voice cuts through my dreary thoughts. He’s perched on the counter, legs swinging, stealing slices of tomato behind Tadeo’s back.
“No,” I say, spreading a thick layer of butter on each slice of bread. We’re making migas. It’s Tadeo’s grandma’s recipe—apparently, she made it with stale bread soaked in olive oil and water, but Dakota insisted on plain old butter...I'm kind of thankful for that.
“So,” Dakota grins, launching into his story, “last summer. I was working at this little nutrition shop downtown—you know, the kind that smells like chalk and steroids? And this guy—” his brown eyes sparkle as he looks at Tadeo, “—walks in asking for some stuff formulated for alphas.”
Tadeo glances over his shoulder, brows raised. “Some?”
Dakota laughs. “Okay, several things. He had this list, all serious, and I swear to God, the second I see him I forgot how to form sentences for like ten seconds straight. The man was—” he waves his hand dramatically at Tadeo “—gorgeous. Tall, built like a damn sculpture, smells like a vacation, and somehow looks both annoyed and perfect at the same time.”
I smile at that, knowing exactly what expression he means while Tadeo just shakes his head.
“So, naturally, I followed Tadeo around the store like a lost puppy,” Dakota continues. “Explainingevery singlesupplement we had. Like, ‘This one’s for joint support. This one’s for energy. This one’s for hair growth.’ I must’ve sounded like a walking brochure.”
Tadeo chuckles low, the sound rumbling through the kitchen as he cracks half a dozen eggs into the pan. The chorizo hisses and grease spits.
“And then,” Dakota says, voice rising with mock drama, “I turn to grab something off a shelf and—bam!—the whole damn display of protein powders crashes to the floor. Hundreds of them. Everywhere. A couple even crack open, and suddenly there’s this massivecloudof vanilla whey just—poof—exploding through the air. It’s snowing protein.” His arms wave in the air, trying to mimic it. “I looked like a damn frosted donut, Skyla. Hair, shirt, eyelashes—covered. And Tadeo here just stands there, all sexy and stoic, like some Spanish statue in a blizzard of nutritional shame.”
My smile grows on its own as I picture it.
“I wasmortified," Dakota says with a dramatic lilt.
Tadeo laughs, despite himself. “You were adorable,” he says. “All red-faced and trying to apologize to everyone in a five-mile radius. I couldn’t help it,” he looks at me, “I asked him out that same day.”
“That’s so sweet.” I press a hand over my heart.
Dakota freezes mid-gesture, expression serious all of a sudden. “Oh no.” He looks at Tadeo, eyes wide with mock outrage. “You didn’t tell her the best part.” He gives the alpha a pointed look, and Tadeo ducks his head, staring intensely at the sizzling pan.
“I onlythoughtit was my fault,” Dakota says. “But it wasn’t until months later, after he introduced me to Knox and Alex, that he finally came clean and told me thathewas the one who actually knocked the display over with his damn foot.”
I laugh, and even Tadeo cracks up now, a deep sound that vibrates through the kitchen.
“Yup,” Dakota says, shaking his head in fake disbelief. “Our entire relationship was built on lies,” he crosses his arms, “and protein dust,” he quickly adds.
“I think it worked out fine for you,” Tadeo teases, sliding the pan off the heat.
“Yeah,” Dakota finally admits, his smile growing soft. “Guess it did.”
I can't help but laugh at the pair, the last of the stubborn tension in my belly eases…for now.
I slide the buttered bread into the tiny toaster oven, watching the coils flare orange.
“Did you meet Knox and Alex in some equally scandalous way?” I glance over my shoulder at Tadeo.
