Page 148 of The Rust in Her Hair

Then he throws the whole thing back in one swallow, drops the empty flute on the marble where it shatters into a thousand pieces, and turns for the door.

We follow him out into the night, every one of us, and we don't look back once.

Business as Usual

Owen

Ibring one hand up to cradle Lyra’s face and kiss her again, and let the other slide down the curve of her side to squeeze the soft swell of her ass through the thin cotton. She makes a small, pleased sound into my mouth that goes straight through me.

I should quit my job.

My phone buzzes against my thigh, and reality comes crashing back down.

I break the kiss with a groan, dropping my forehead to hers. "That's my reminder. I have to go."

"No." Lyra frowns, and it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen. "Call in. Tell them you died."

I snort, then press one more kiss to her frown. "Sorry, gorgeous. The rent won’t pay itself."

She sighs and steps back, letting me go. I turn to the counter and pour my coffee into the travel mug. Behind me, Lyra twists at the waist, one hand pressed to the small of her back, arching into a slow stretch with a little wince.

I glance over my shoulder. "You sore too?"

"My lower back is killing me." She rolls her hips, working out the ache, a sheepish little smile tugging at her mouth.

"You okay?" I turn to her, not sure how worried I should be.

"It’s nothing." She waves a hand at me. "I think I'm going to take something for it and go crawl back into bed with the boys."

"Good plan." I screw the lid onto my mug and check my watch. "They won't be up for another hour, at least. You've got plenty of time to get some quality snuggling in before they have to leave."

Her whole face lights up at that, and she moves toward the hall, already halfway back to that warm bed and our three big alphas sprawled across it. We all slept in the big bed last night.

After that awful party, Lyra needed her whole pack next to her.

"Have a good day," she calls over her shoulder.

I rush after her and catch her hand before she gets away and reel her back for one last kiss, soft and lingering, my thumb brushing Nico’s mark on her throat.

"I'll be home by five," I tell her. "Save me a spot."

Then I grab my keys, and I head out into the Monday morning, happier than I have any right to be.

The library is quiet when I walk in. The morning light comes down through the tall windows, pooling gold on the marble. It smells like old paper and lemon polish, the way it always does, and I breathe it in and feel a small pang.

I’m really going to miss this place.

Marguerite's at the front desk, glasses pushed up into her silver curls, and she looks up when I pass.

"Well, good morning." She tips her head, studying me. "You're looking awfully bright-eyed today, Dr. Cruz. Something's got you glowing."

"I had a good weekend." I can't help the grin. "A really good weekend."

In fact, I can barely sit down, but I don’t tell Marguerite that.

Nico, Adrian, and Mack were all insatiable. They took turns with Lyra, then with me, then with each other, until the entire house smelled like nothing but pack, sweat, and sex. And now I have a deep, tender ache low in my back that flares every time I shift my weight.

Worth it. Every bit of it.