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CHAPTER 7
OLIVE
Killian works diligently,his expert hands as gentle as possible as the tweezers dig into my skin. After what feels like a lifetime, he replaces the metal with a damp cotton pad.
“You want the good news or the bad news?” He asks, as he secures gauze around my foot.
“Good,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
“You won’t need stitches.”
“Great,” I groan, exhaling sharply. “What’s the bad news?”
“You’re probably not going to walk properly for a week, at least.”
My heart sinks into my stomach.
I won’t be able to leave them as quickly as I wanted to. The thought of trekking down the massive driveway seems unbearable, and I haven’t even tried to put weight on it since Killian removed the glass.
“So, that means no running away, beautiful.”
I sit up, moving my foot off his lap and awkwardly scooting as far away from him as possible. My eyes burn with anger, and I silently curse him as he chuckles.
“God, I can’t fucking wait until you try to, though. It’s going to be incredible.”
I scowl at him. He’s afreak.
“Do you really have to scare her?” Dylan, the kind Alpha, asks as he enters my line of sight. “Hey, Olive. You hungry?”
His handsome face, gentle and curious, is a welcome reprieve from Killian’s torment.
Embarrassingly on cue, my stomach growls, and Dylan flashes me a brilliant smile. His welcoming scent soothes me, and I almost smile back at him before I remember the circumstances.
“We have a room set up for you,” he adds. “There’s a master guest bedroom on the third floor. You can shower and rest up before dinner.”
I glance between Killian and Dylan, who both look at me expectantly.
“Oh, I’m not staying here,” I say, confused. “I need to go back home.”
As I say it, I look around, fully taking in my surroundings. The front room connects to a massive kitchen, equipped with sleek steel appliances and cream granite countertops. A generous flat screen television is mounted on the cream wall across from the leather couch, surrounded by a dark glass entertainment center. Dark hardwood floors stretch across the vast space, leading to a dining room.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the energy to appreciate it.
I catch both Alphas staring at me in disbelief.
“What?” I demand.
“We’re your home now,” Killian says, sitting back on the couch and winking at me.
I want to slap him across the face.
But Dylan takes the kinder route, giving me a gentle smile as he sits in the matching leather armchair. His dark green eyes are expressive and soft as he gazes at me. Like Killian, he’s devastatingly handsome, but his features don’t screamdanger.His jaw is sharp, his lips full, but his demeanor is gentle and welcoming, even as his dirty-blonde hair falls haphazardly into his eyes.
“Where is your home?” He asks.
I debate whether to tell them, then decide there’s no harm in sharing it. “Northern California,” I say. “Near Sacramento.”
Dylan’s brow furrows. “How the hell did you end up down here?”
