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Just can’t let them know how my ability works.
“Did we get everything we ordered?” Jin looks to Bish.
Bishop lifts his soup spoon like we’re filming a Regency romance. “Everything’s accounted for in the warehouse. I even acquired a cache of C4.”
“Light ‘em up.” Reese grins so sexy-sharp, he almost pops my lung.
Military school did Meadows Pack good.
“Let’s start in the morning.” I swirl my soup, trying to make it look like I’m eating.
It smells delish, but it won’t go down smooth. My throat’s too tainted with Serafina’s sour candy and vodka.
“In the morning,” Jin agrees. “After dinner. And breakfast.”
Freaking food police.
I smooth my face before I sip the broth.
It’s the first time I understand the phrase melts in your mouth.
But when I swallow, my stomach sends the liquid back with a chaser of acid. I swallow again, through the burn, tensing every pheromone-holding muscle.
Cold sweat beads on my lip.
I mop myself with a paper towel, stirring and blowing, trying to hide the lack of progress on my bowl. It’s harder to pretend I’m eating with the buttered bread tower that’s grown to four untouched slices.
“Put down the butter knife.” I pass Reese back a slice, then slide the others to Dutch and Jin.
Bish won’t eat bread that touched the table, so I only have to handle one slice myself. I rip it into small pieces that’ll sog and sink to the bottom of my bowl.
Every time I nibble a token piece of crust, Jin’s aura thickens.
Watching. Guarding. Drawing me closer to his flames.
My stomach churns a dough ball.
I swallow nausea.
I’m still in control.
For now.
* * *
At night, the guys leave me the nest.
The safe, perfect, overwater nest that sounds like the ocean and smells like the dream of my perfect pack.
Instead of suffering over everything I can’t have, I drag pillows and blankets into the shower suite and set my alarm to ring every two hours. Brandon sent me so much Serafina juice, there’s no need to miss an injection.
By morning and shot number four, the howling in my ears isn’t just the waves, and last night’s token chicken noodle has looong returned to the sea.
I should stop choosing suffering.
But I won’t.
Because when I find Jin shirtless in the kitchen, scrambling eggs with my claw-marks proudly scarring his chest, his pupils yawn for Serafina’s scent.
