Page 77 of The Rust in Her Hair

"I'm sorry." His voice comes out low and rough. "Lyra, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—" He steps back, dragging a hand down his mouth. "I'm sorry." He shakes his head. "I shouldn’t have done that without talking to⁠—"

My heart stutters as I wait for him to finish the sentence. Who does he have to talk to? His pack alpha? Nico?

It’s obvious that Nico’s the pack alpha.

But then Adrian turns and walks out of the kitchen fast, passing Owen in the doorway.

Owen wanders in, humming something under his breath, oblivious to all of it. "Is Adrian okay? He looked like he saw a ghost."

"He's fine," I clear my throat roughly. "Just tired, I think."

Owen steps up beside me to run the water, close, his shoulder warm against mine. His clean sage and lemon folds over me and lights me up all over again, right on the heels of Adrian.

God, what is wrong with me?

Because it isn't only Adrian.

It's Owen too, standing here smelling like everything good, his sleeves pushed up and his glasses sliding down his nose. It's Mack and his shameless grin. It's Nico and that gravelly voice I keep tilting toward.

It's all of them at once, and I have no idea how to hold that much wanting inside one body.

"I kissed Adrian," I blurt out, unable to hold it in.

Owen goes still for a second, his eyes wide.

For one horrible second, I brace for his face to change, for the warmth to curdle into pure rage. After all, I just told my incredibly sexy friend that I put my mouth on his mate.

But Owen doesn’t look upset at all.

His hazel eyes have gone dark behind his glasses, his lips parting, and a flush climbs up his throat that has nothing to do with anger. He looks at me like I've handed him a gift.

"You kissed Adrian," he repeats softly, staring at my mouth.

I nod, thrown off by his reaction.

I expected anger or disgust or even shock. But not this.

Owen looks interested, and the heat pouring off him fills the little kitchen until my skin prickles with it.

My eyes drop from his face to his throat.

Nico’s mating bite is right there, silvered and curved, sitting just above the collar of the beta’s polo. I know there are two more hidden under the fabric, right along the juncture of Owen’s shoulder, because I've seen them in those treasured photos.

Those photos.

I can’t stop thinking about them.

"How was it?" Owen asks and my eyes snap back up to his face.

My face goes up in flames as he waits patiently for me to answer.

"It was—" I clear my throat, suddenly unable to hold his eyes. "Good. It was really good."

The beta makes a soft sound, pleased, and slick begins to gather between my legs.

"Is that—" I twist my fingers together. "Was that okay? That I kissed him?"

Owen leans in, his dark eyes searching my face. It’s almost like he’s making sure he has all my attention. "It's more than okay with me, omega." His words come out warm and deep, and then I watch his expression change.