Page 91 of A Nest of Maple & Mist

“Gods. You’re such a brat.”

“You love it.”

Unfortunately, I did.

“Come on, brat.” I rose, bringing Ty up with me. “Let’s go find Jason and Mia so we don’t miss the hayride.”

We navigated to the edge of the festival grounds, holding hands. Mia hadn’t asked for much tonight. But she had been adamant about taking a hayride. And we wouldn’t disappoint our omega.

A woman stumbled out from behind a line of booths, wobbling like a fawn standing for the first time. Glassy eyes met ours. Something that smelled like too much wine corroded what otherwise might have been a pleasant floral fragrance.

“Alpha,” she slurred, reaching out a hand toward my chest. “I didn’t know they grew alphas like you here in Maple Falls. I’m lonely. Can you help me?”

A sharp sound shredded the air, sounding like a saw shearing through metal. Mia stalked closer, Jason a few calculated steps behind her. It took me a second to realize that it hadn’t been Jason who growled, but Mia.

Wild curls haloed her head like a golden mane.

She looked like an angel of love and destruction. Like Freyja—a goddess prepared for battle. All she needed was a chariot pulled by majestic cats.

Fierce light flared in her eyes, deepening into a dark, molten hue. Her gold, leaf earrings swayed as she bared her teeth.

“Mine,” she snarled, sounding like a tiny lioness.

My dick jumped, Ty moaned, and Jason growled, crossing his thick forearms as he rocked on his feet.

The drunk omega blanched, the color leeching from her face as she nearly tripped over a hay bale. She scrambled away, not saying anything as she disappeared into the crowd.

Mia’s breasts strained against her sweater, her chest heaving with uneven breaths. A surge of pride swelled within, spreading like wildfire. I leaned down, burying my face in the crook of Mia’s neck, scenting her.

“What a good omega,” I cooed, the words a gentle thrum against her skin. “Letting everyone know we belong to you.”

Mia flushed, the growl dying into a shy, embarrassed huff as she leaned back into me. “She was touching you. I didn’t like it.”

“That’s okay,” Jason soothed, scent marking her other cheek. “She shouldn’t have touched your alpha. That’s our good girl. Claiming your pack.”

After a few moments, Mia relaxed, her breathing softening. Jason handed her an ice cream cone, passing another to Ty—he knew I wasn’t a fan of ice cream—as we headed toward the hayride.

I nearly came in my pants like a teenager when Mia’s tongue flicked at the swirl of ice cream. Ty made inappropriate noises while licking his, and I bit down on my fist to avoid moaning in public.

“Love. I thought you didn’t like ice cream,” I said, each word elongated and strained.

“I don’t,” she hummed, licking away.

“Um. Can I phone a friend? I’m confused.”

I looked to Jason and Ty for help, and they both shrugged.

“This isn’t ice cream. It’s a maple creemee,” she said.

“A maple creemee is just soft serve ice cream,” I said.

“Soft serve is completely different from hard ice cream. I love creemees. Especially maple ones. I’ll keep eating them until it’s too cold for the shops to sell them anymore.”

She tossed me an icy glare, as if daring me to tell her she couldn’t have a maple creemee. Not that I’d dream of it. Our omega could have whatever her heart desired whenever she wanted it.

“Apologies, love,” I murmured, kissing her shoulder. “I will buy a creemee machine for the house if you want.”

Light twinkled in her eyes as she nodded, polishing off the last of her dessert.