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He rises from his chair, dips to grab a carafe, and refills his coffee, never once glancing at the mug.
Smooth and deadly, he bleeds the same killer instinct I catch buried under Finn’s mischief.
But Kieran Wyvern doesn’t hide his darkness.
Maybe he can’t.
“We’re taking things slow,” Atlas says cautiously.
“And I’m not awakened,” I offer, feeling like my secrets will spill out any second while Kieran watches me with that killer’s gaze.
Hikaru’s deep hmm is a hive of wasps. “That could be changed. Easily. Shall I make you an appointment at the Wyvern Clinic?”
I tense like he just jabbed the needle in my throat. “You said you wouldn’t force me.”
“We won’t,” Scorpio says, “But the option is there. It might even make the transition easier if you can awaken in a controlled environment. Your perfume’s a time bomb.”
I swallow.
That’s always been a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. The pheromone shots would be final.
Permanent.
“What’s the hold-up? I want to be a grandfather.” Max has a freaking twinkle in his eye, and I need to drill down into the carpet and die.
“No one’s thinking about kids,” Atlas says through gritted teeth.
I nod enthusiastically. I’m not sure I ever want to be a mother. And with this pack? I’d be beyond trapped.
I’d be…theirs.
Theirs in a way that terrifies me even more than going into rotation. At least then, I’d be the one throwing males away, a new pack for every heat.
“Put some thought on your future,” Hikaru says in the outwardly pleasant, but actually threatening tone that he spews like breathing. “If you can’t integrate, you have many other options.”
He’ll put me in rotation so fast.
I scoot closer to Atlas, hoping against hope that he’ll have my back. “I’m not looking at other options.”
“It’s good to see you getting along.” Scorpio smiles like we’re already picking baby names. “Is the pack up for a team-building mission?”
“A mission?” Atlas asks.
Scorpio offers him the thick card that was hiding under the donuts. It’s fancy stationery, the kind you only use for weddings. “The four of us were planning on representing Wyvern House at the Patrick Pack’s fundraising ball this weekend, but our younger generation should make the appearance. It’s past time for you to take over the networking side of the business. Bring your omegas.”
Omegas? Both? At a public event?
Orion will slaughter me, and I won’t even be mad.
I’m honestly starting to pity him. It makes sense none of the Wyverns care about me or what I want. I’m just some Darling bought on clearance and they’ve known me for thirty seconds.
But Orion is theirs.
Atlas freezes halfway to the invitation.
“Problem?” Scorpio asks.
“No problem.” He restarts, grabbing the invite so hard he crumples the thick paper.
