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It has blood orange-juicy vibes that are morning appropriate. Plus, his is sandwiched in the middle, so it carries all five Wyvern flavors.
Once the big long hoodie’s over my head, my shoulders drop, my jaw unclenches, and I take the deepest breath, wrapped in their protection.
My heart beats too loud when I finally creep outside.
Atlas and Orion huddle over the stove, and it doesn’t smell like burning. Hunter, Finn, and Jett have papers spread all over the island.
Now I know I’m giving off the wrong signal.
Must be a tornado siren, because the second I enter the kitchen, the guys whirl.
“Who were you on the phone with, Stargirl?” Finn sweeps me onto the island counter, smug as shit when he sees me in his shirt.
I stop him from jumping me with a palm to his chest. “Catherine’s been calling.”
“What about?” Hunter puts an elbow on the papers.
My gut gives another churn.
I’ll poison the guys with chilis or flip them on their asses if I want to take them down. What I won’t do is play games.
I don’t want a who-will-I-pick tango.
It’s just that I haven’t picked.
Because the more my nature roars to lock this shit down and beg my mates for their teeth in my throat, the more my nurture rebels.
I’m afraid.
I’m afraid this is all so fucking temporary. “The Sorensen Pack wants to reschedule our date.”
“Is that what you want?” Hunter speaks for them, but five sets of eyes are pinned to my skin.
“I want to keep my options open.” I rub my arms. “Can they come to the compound?”
I’m waiting for the Wyverns to rage and tell me no.
That I belong to them and only them and I need to stop this “other packs” bullshit.
But Wyverns never do what I expect.
“It’s grudge night tonight.” Atlas steps away from the stove. He and Orion are whipping off pancakes, and the sight of him with a spatula and a half apron that barely ties around his thick hips makes it hard to process what he said.
I can smell him in my hair.
“Not a bad idea.” Hunter taps his chin.
“Perfect.” Finn tries to worm between my thighs, but I push him out.
“What’s grudge night?” I ask, holding Finn at bay so I can keep my last shred of sanity.
“A Wyvern House ritual.” Hunter yanks Finn away, only instead of rescuing me, he steps into the empty spot, thighs bumping my tightly closed knees. His body heat’s atomic, and his nostrils flare when he scents me drenched in his pack.
“It’s fight night,” Orion offers. “Anyone can challenge anyone, and we always have to be there because fucking Hunter will have thirty challengers.”
“You?” He’s the most normal, level-headed Wyvern. The only normal Wyvern.
But Hunter’s feral grin reminds me his normal’s all smoke. “Salty trainees. Supposedly, I’m the devil.”
