Perrin and Raff use the bathroom located between their rooms. It's a perfectly good bathroom, nothing wrong with it, but I've been using Cliff's en suite for so long that the idea of switching feels strange.
I quietly push the master bedroom door open and stop for a second, taking in the room.
Raff fills the enormous bed. He's dead asleep in themiddle, face down with one arm thrown wide, and his lips parted slightly against the pillow. His tattooed back rises and falls in a slow, even rhythm.
Cliff’s side of the bed is empty, the sheets flung back. I glance toward the door, then at the floor, listening to the quiet of the house.
He’s probably in the study.
While the shower heats up I strip down, dropping everything in the hamper, and straighten up to face the mirror.
Leaning in, I check my face first, then my chest, arms, and legs. My condition means all kinds of random symptoms can pop up without much warning, but I'm not seeing any discoloration this morning. Which is something at least.
I straighten up and take a proper look at myself.
I've got decent muscle definition, nothing like Cliff or Raff, but I’m still pretty proud. My arms aren’t as bulky as Perrin’s, but my stomach is flat and my legs are strong. I've always been the smallest in the pack, shortest by a few inches and slighter through the frame, but I guess that distinction belongs to Elowen now.
Elowen.
I stare at my reflection and think about the omega. She has a lovely figure with full breasts, curvy hips and a very perky ass. And not to mention how beautiful she is.
While I’ve always been more drawn to men, even I can admit that she’s pretty tempting.
I completely understand why Cliff and Raff want her.
She's sweet and soft, and biologically wired to appeal to alphas. And I am a short, boring beta with an autoimmune disease that dictates roughly forty percent of my daily decisions.
I’m not exactly the prize she is.
"Stop it," I snap at the mirror. “You’re being stupid.”
Genuinely, embarrassingly stupid, and I know it.
“Cliff has loved you since you were nineteen years old,” I say outloud, forcing myself to remember. “And Raff has never once in six years made you feel like anything other than exactly what he wanted. They choseyou.” I narrow my eyes at my reflection. “And they keep choosing you, every single day.”
…and standing here torturing myself, over a woman who is clearly just as lost as the rest of us, is a waste of time. And kind of mean.
“You really annoy me sometimes,” I mumble to my reflection, then I move toward the shower.
The water is hot, and the bathroom is full of steam by the time I step in. I stand under the spray for a long moment with my eyes closed, letting it work through the tension sitting in my shoulders.
I wash my hair first, then work my way down, and I'm almost done, running a soapy hand down my legs, when the bathroom door opens.
I smile, knowing those footsteps.
The shower door slides open and Cliff steps in behind me, already naked, ducking slightly to fit under the spray. His big hands find my shoulders without a single word. I straighten up and let him, tipping my head forward as he works his thumbs into the muscles on either side of my spine.
"Morning," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck.
"I thought you were in the study."
"I was." He reaches past me for the soap, and then his hands find my back, thoroughly working into the muscles.
I close myeyes, deciding this is the best thing that has happened to me all week.
"I need to go to the pharmacy today," I say, before I forget. "Pick up a refill on my meds."
"Which ones?"
