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Four scary-dominant scents hit me like a club.
Scorpio and Hikaru Wyvern sit on either side of a sofa. One man sits in the corner, half-hidden with the way his chair’s turned.
The fourth rushes me.
“Lilah!” A big bearded Latin dude who’s Hunter’s older clone squeezes me into the bone-crushingest bear hug of my life.
I go rigid.
I don’t like being touched, being covered in a man’s scent before I even know his name.
“Put her down, Max,” Scorpio barks. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”
“Truly?” Holding me a foot off the floor, he lifts me out like he’s checking out a picture frame. “My bad. I was too excited to meet my daughter-in-law.”
The bottom falls out of my stomach, probably making an acid stain on the carpet.
Daughter-in-law?
Atlas looks like he swallowed a woodland creature, and I wish I were on that same wavelength.
Instead, the sneaky, shoved-down part of me I hate goes all smug.
They’re my fated mates’ fathers.
Of course they want to meet me! They’ll adore me!
Ha.
Dream on, little girl.
“Have a seat.” Scorpio motions to the empty sofa across a coffee table set with donuts and carafes. “Are you hungry, Lilah?”
I’m always hungry. Especially for glaze. But surrounded by five linebacker alphas, with Atlas looming at my side, there’s no way I can take a single bite. “I already ate.”
“How are things at the house?” Hikaru asks, getting right to the point. In a sleek suit, with his dark hair slicked back, he looks like Lucifer’s right-hand man. Just like Jett.
Clearing my throat, I shake away thoughts of the too-pretty mate I’ve barely even let myself look at. “Everything’s fine.”
“Just fine?” Max drops into his armchair. “What do we need to do to make you more comfortable?”
“Nothing.” I blink at the guy, seriously thrown off by his attitude. Max has Hunter’s same jacked build and dark, tanned coloring, though a few curls of grey sneak into his beard. He’s disarming in the same way as Hunter, especially because I’m always off balance when someone wants me around.
“Craig says you’re not integrating with the pack?” Hikaru narrows his eyes.
“Craig isn’t a reliable source.” Atlas’s knuckles crack. “I want to have him transferred.”
“That can be arranged.” Scorpio steeples his thick fingers like he’s negotiating an arms deal. “Assuming Lilah integrates instead.”
More threats.
Fun.
Atlas’s jaw clenches. Guy’s going to crack a tooth. “She’s integrating. She was doing our grocery shopping before you called in a meeting.”
Instead of rolling my eyes, I pull the pack’s card from my bra and flash the room. It’s my win that Craig has to pay for the cart. I would’ve thrown in more shit if I’d known. “They gave me the pack card. I’ve been making myself at home.”
“She doesn’t carry your scent.” The man in the corner has a voice like a glacier cracking.
