The guys'living room is a mess. Weapons lie haphazardly across the couch. A box of bullets must have spilled at some point, because the brass specks gleam all across the floor.
Luka immediately shifts forward, bending at the waist and scooping up a pile of laundry that looks like it might be tuxedos.
"Sorry." He heads to a back room with a massive mound of clothing drooping from his arms. "Someone pick up those rounds!"
Ridge leans against me, my arm gently around his waist, almost hovering, incredibly aware of the thick bandages on his opposite side. I glance up at him and notice that the car ride home has left him a bit pale.
"Don't worry about that.” I dismiss Luka’s concern over the mess with a wave of my free hand. Glancing up at Kylian's furrowed brow, finding him studying Ridge with the same intensity I am, I ask, "Closest bedroom?"
The big alpha jerks his head to the right. "This way."
I follow him down a narrow hallway to a small room with a double bed that looks comically small for my massive mates. Kylian pulls back the top sheet—there is no comforter—and helps me settle Ridge into place diagonally, his feet hanging over the edge of the mattress.
The alpha leader keeps his face placid, but I can see the tiny line of sweat on his golden hairline. He still has some healing to do.
Leaning down, I reverently sweep back his hair, tenderness infusing my touch, a sort of gentle worship that I hope sinks through his skin. "I'll be right back with some water."
His eyelids slowly flutter closed.
Kylian and I turn toward the door, and he gestures to let me precede him into the hall. I do, tugging self-consciously at the sweatshirt I'm still wearing, though it's now paired with a set of leggings scrounged up from a kind-hearted nurse and some grippy hospital socks. Fashion statement of the year.
The door clicks softly shut behind me before Kylian whispers in a low tone, "Bet you a kiss that he's asleep before you're back with that water."
I grin and glance back over my shoulder. "I'm going to lose that bet. But I'll take it anyway."
"Yeah, you will." He juts his chin and gives me one of those cheeky, panty-obliterating smiles that makes all the omegas in Darling swoon.
But that smile is mine, all mine.
Possessiveness causes my chest to clench. A tiny bit of my perfume swirls into the air, making me a bit self-conscious. But Kylian swoops forward, his arms closing around my biceps. Hepresses his body against my back, and I can feel how hard he is. Just from the tiniest hint of my scent.
It makes a small smile curl my lips.
But the feeling intensifies into something deeper as Kylian holds me, and I observe Luka darting around the living room, erasing the evidence of their frantic departure.
Evidence of how much they care.
My chest cracks apart, a weepy vulnerability rising inside. This delicate, overwhelming connection between us… I've never had something like this. My kneecaps start to melt.
Caran and Ted love me—I'm sure of that. But that brotherly, “I’ll kick you in the shins, but if someone messes with you, they're dead” kind of love isn't the same.
The loyalty's there.
But not the awe.
This is…church choir singing. That echoey, immaculate, impossible feeling from the most beautiful voices weaving together. Those goose bumps rising on the skin. The worshipful devotion.
This is…insta-lust, manic rave-music horniness. The throb of a bass beat in my lower belly, the screech of a guitar plucking at my nipples, the microphone-swallowing yell of claiming.
This is…top-of-a-mountain, hands-on-head, can't-believe-I'm-at-the-summit laughter. Where the world has never before looked so beautiful, and I've never felt so strong.
The mate bond we share is everything I never knew could simultaneously exist.
My throat grows hollow though.
Because in order for our bond to stay pure, I absolutely need to tell Kylian and Luka the truth.
Pulling forward, away from Kylian, I clear my throat and say, "Luka, could you sit on the couch next to Kylian? I need to tell you something."
