Perrin pulls a face, like he’s shocked, and I suddenly feel like I’ve forgotten something very important. “Some asshole stole all my fucking bedding. Remember?”
I quickly grimace. "I can put it back. Give me two minutes."
"Don't." Perrin waves a hand, already moving toward the staircase. "It's fine." He pauses at the threshold, and something in his expression settles into something softer andmore honest than the mild outrage from a second ago. "I like sleeping in your room anyway."
He says it simply, before heading up the stairs.
“Alright, alpha.” Cliff moves to the dishwasher and pushes it shut with his knee, hitting the start button. It hums to life beneath the counter. He straightens up, then looks at me with those dark eyes. "Ready for bed?"
My still hard cock twitches.
I should be ashamed at how horny I am right now, but it's not entirely my fault.
Alphas are built to respond when their mates are hurting. It's comfort instinct twisted up with desire, and after a day like today, with Elowen's grief sitting heavy on all of us and Adam's quiet struggle coupled with Perrin being so goddamn sweet about all of it, my body has been running hot for hours with nowhere to put it.
"Let’s go," I say, then I follow Cliff up the stairs and down the hall.
We pass the thin line of light under Perrin's door, and past the soft sounds of movement coming from Adam’s room.
At the end of the hall, the guest room door is open a crack, warm light spilling out into the hallway in a thin wedge. Through the gap, I see Elowen moving around inside, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, folding something small and setting it on the dresser.
Cliff goes straight to her door, his knuckles rapping softly against the door frame. She turns, a little startled, her hands stilling.
"Come to my room when you're ready for bed," he says. It’s not a command, but it leaves no room for discussion.
Elowen looks at him for a moment, then nods. "Okay," she says softly.
Then Cliff moves on down the hall and I follow, getting a good look at the omega as we pass.
She's standing in the middle of the small room in nothing but a towel. Her long hair looks freshly blown dry, falling in dark waves down her back.
The towel is wrapped high, barely covering the swell of her breasts, and tucked right above them. My eyes trace the line of her collarbones, down to where the fabric dips between her breasts. I can see the curve of her hips where the towel ends, leaving her legs bare.
Fuck, I want to unwrap her like a present.
“Raff?” Cliff says my name, and I realize I’m still standing in front of Elle’s door, staring like a creeper. “You coming?” he asks with a knowing smile.
He has to be hard too.
I can sense it.
I shake out my hands as I step into the master bedroom.
The room is big, with a massive bed as the centerpiece. It’s a custom alpha-king, so wide it takes up most of the far wall, with a dark wooden headboard and a frame that sits low to the ground. There are four pillows on each side, more blankets than any reasonable number of people could need, and a reading lamp on each nightstand that casts the room in warm, low light when Cliff clicks one on.
This is where we all usually end up sleeping.
Some nights it starts as one person and ends as all of us, piled together in various states of consciousness and fucking, limbs overlapping and the combined scents of the whole pack soaking into every fiber of every blanket.
It's the best fucking room in the house.
Cliff moves to the linen closet in the corner and pulls out two extra blankets, tossing them onto the bed. He startslayering them, smoothing them out, and I move to the other side and do the same, tucking the corners in.
"She's going to need more pillows," I say, looking at the arrangement.
"There are extras on the shelf." He jerks his chin toward the closet without looking up.
I grab two more and toss them onto one side of the bed, and then we both stand there for a second looking at it.
