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Ah, Luna.
You know what? I’m the female half of this Alpha couple. Not only that, but I’m an alpha and everyone in the pack knows it. If Ryker wanted to have this conversation where I wouldn’t hear it, he would’ve had it further than the next room over.
So, though it feels a little weird eavesdropping on my mate, I strain my ears and listen.
Something slams. Hard.
Boom.
I wince. Definitely didn’t need to listen too closely for that one. Even if I wasn’t awake, that would’ve done the job.
And then, so soft that I nearly miss it, I hear one word: “How?”
That’s my mate. Apart from the content purr from my wolf as she senses her mate in the next room over, that near-silent demand is just so Ryker.
“We… we’re not sure. But Trish—”
Trish.
That does it. I guess I still have way more baggage when it comes to that female than I want to admit to because just hearing her name has me scrambling the rest of the way out of our bed. I head toward the nearest dresser, searching for a pair of jeans, one of my t-shirts, and—almost as an afterthought—some panties. Ryker once murmured that he could tell the difference between me going commando or not by my scent and, just in case, I don’t want to test his theory in mixed company.
As soon as I’m presentable, I leave the bedroom, following my bond to Ryker. Just like I guessed, I find him in the living room with one other male. I know him, too. It’s the big, brawny shifter who once tried to stop me from leaving Ryker, then hauled me around like a sack of potatoes, and who pledged himself to me along with three other wolves the last time we met.
Good call on the panties, Gem, I tell myself as I stalk into the room.
20
The two males are similar in height, though the big guy—who actually towers over most shifters, me including—actually seems smaller when he’s reporting in front of my mate. He’s submissive to Ryker’s overwhelming dominance, his shoulders hunched, eyes purposely looking away from the heat blazing off of the noticeably furious Alpha.
Ryker’s alpha aura is pure fury and fire; he’s definitely the source of the uncomfortable warmth since the fireplace is nothing but some charred logs and a pile of cool ash. I’m not so sure what set him off—probably should’ve listened a little more pastTrish, huh?—but no doubt he’s pissed.
Luna, he’s fucking sexy when he’s pissed.
Unlike me, Ryker must not have made enough time to get dressed. He’s pulled on a pair of jeans of his own and that’s about it. My eyes land on my mark on his chest and, even though I can sense the tension in the air, I can’t help but be turned on.
As if I called his name, my arousal has Ryker’s head jerking my way. His wolf would’ve alerted him as soon as mine was on the move, so I know he was expecting me. Probably didn’t think that I’d immediately go wet, though, especially after how busy we were last night.
Of course, then I think about everything we did and, oops, my panties are completely damp.
Appropriate? Not even a little. Can I help myself? That’s a big honking nope.
Good thing my mate doesn’t seem to mind. As he breathes in deeply, taking the scent of my arousal into his lungs, a tiny smile tugs on his lush lips. However, the rest of his features are taut. Tight.
His dark gold gaze sweeps over me. His expression relaxes a fraction when he sees that, despite how I’m ready for him again, I’ve emerged from the bedroom fully dressed.
What’s the matter, Ryker? He looks so relieved, I almost want to call him out for appearing grateful that I’m covered up. Luna... did he really think I’d bounce out here butt-naked?
Well, to be fair, I definitely did yesterday morning, but that’s only because he yelled out that the bacon was ready and I was too hungry to worry about throwing clothes on.
But that was yesterday.
Today, I have a bigger problem to worry about than if Ryker made the bacon crispy enough or not.
Now, a shifter pack doesn’t work the same way as a true wolf pack in the wild does. The hierarchy assigned to wild wolves is a myth, but it holds some truth for us shifters. I think that has something to do with our human halves, though I’ve never really questioned it. I just know that, in a shifter’s wolf pack, alphas are the strongest, betas next, followed by the gammas and deltas. Gammas, of course, are deltas that have survived to become our elders; the respect they earn changes their rank, while a beta is always a beta and an alpha is forever an alpha.
Then there are omegas, a specific type of wolf that exists outside of the hierarchy for the most part. An omega wolf is kind, nurturing, and gentle—everything a wolf shifter rarely is at our core. That’s why they’re so prized. Being around an omega makes the rest of us better.
My mom is one. So’s my Aunt Corinne. In the Mountainside Pack, we have Dahlia, a sweet wolf who doubles as a schoolteacher for the pack’s young pups.
