Page 69 of Hidden Fates

Mia carries a large tray toward us. It’s loaded with pasta, sandwiches, and sides. Another reason I love this place is their portion sizes are built for Alphas. I may be a Beta, but I can keep pace with the rest of my pack when the food is good.

“Thank you,” Caleb tells her.

We dig in and his eyes light up. I might not have cooked the food, but I still feel the swell of pride in my chest seeing how much he’s enjoying it.

When we leave, I have to fight back the urge to wrap myself around him and soak in the happiness in his smooth basil scent. Shaking off the urge is hard, but I force myself to walk around the Jeep and climb behind the wheel.

One day, I’ll cross that line. When he’s ready for the chaos that is my love.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Thanksgiving passes in a blur of too much food, family visits, and lengthy video chats with those who couldn’t make it out.

I adore my pack and our families, but I’m glad it’s over. Being ‘on’ for hours at a time is exhausting. My cheeks hurt from the smile I forced myself to wear, and my head dully throbs. The pressure makes me rub my eyes to ease the ache, though it does little to help.

Coffee warms my hands as I lift the mug to my lips. Caffeine will help. It is the cure for most of my stress-related ailments.

Letting my shoulders drop, I peer out the large window at the end of the kitchen. A soft puff of air slips through my lips. Small flakes of snow drift from the sky, coating the glass. Growing up in Los Angeles, snow wasn’t a regular occurrence.

Setting my cup aside, I slip up the stairs and into Skye’s bedroom. She’s curled between Emmett and Bellamy—the latter must have snuck in late last night, as I hadn’t seen him go to bed with them—her arms thrown across their bodies.

Dancing my fingertips up her calf, I whisper to her, “Wake up, Darling.” Her groan makes me chuckle, and I barely avoid getting kicked when she rolls to her side. “It’s snowing.”

I lean back quickly, smothering a smirk when she jolts upright and turns to her window. Heavy blinds block the view, something that makes her pout. Offering her my hand, I help her climb over her sleeping Beta mates.

Emmett pops one eye open, but doesn’t get up. I’m grateful he is giving us this time to ourselves. Missing one-on-one time with her is something I never thought I would feel, but as soon as the thought arises, I realize how true it is.

Skye skips toward the door, but I catch her around the waist and guide her into the closet. “You will freeze if we go outside in just a sleep shirt.” She huffs at my chastisement but lets me pull thick sweatpants up her legs.

When I drop one of my thick sweaters over her head, she sniffs the hem and lets out a happy sigh. My heart aches knowing she adores the way I smell. That I mean as much to her as her normal Alphas.

“Much better,” I tell her as she slips on a pair of lined boots and a thick hat.

Eyeing me, she drags me to my room so that I can grab my coat. I don’t fare as well in the colder temperatures as she does.

As a precaution, I grab a scarf to wrap around my neck and drop a wool beanie over my hair.

“Ready?”

We go through my office and the conservatory instead of backtracking through the main house. Chilly air cuts through my sleep pants when we step outside. A decent layer of snow already covers the driveway and yard.

I run my hand along the windowsill, pushing what’s accumulated there to the ground. It’s thin and soft, nowhere near the right consistency to do anything but walk through.

“Let’s go out back.” Joy fills my Omega’s voice as she pivots and darts down the path to the backyard.

Tucking my frigid hands into my coat pockets, I follow her, ready to indulge in whatever adventure she seeks.

Her breath catches as we exit the outdoor kitchen and find the wonderland awaiting us. Wrapping my arms around her, we lean against the porch railing and watch the snow fall.

It’s magical, like we’ve stepped into another world. A thin layer of glittering white coats the trees, the ground, and the overgrown flowerbeds that line the winding paths through the garden.

Skye reaches out one gloveless hand to catch the flakes that continue to fall around us. Her giggles warm my heart, and I clench her tighter to my chest.

We stand like that for a while until her teeth chatter and her nose is bright pink from the cold. She sniffles when I tell her it’s time to go back inside, but relents when I twine our fingers together and tug her toward the door.

The air inside the house prickles my cold skin, so I rush to get our shoes off and guide Skye to her bathroom. She’s shivering by the time the tub is full, and I curse myself for letting her stay out so long.

Telling her no is difficult when she’s enjoying herself so thoroughly.