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Four alphas hover beyond the frame, but he’s the one who made that sound.
I know because I’m already leaning, already being claimed by the dark-star gaze that just saw much too deep—and he’s already starting to purr.
My muscles clench.
I slam the shields, but it’s too late to pretend I’m anything but a dirty liar hiding a gooey marshmallow core.
“Look at their faces,” Dany murmurs. “So miserable without their mate.”
As if I could look away when they’re together. When they’re watching me watch them through air so lightning-struck, I slurp plasma through the tube of my throat.
“Super fucking miserable.” Reese ropes Dutch’s arm, holding back the bigger alpha’s lunge.
Jin tosses me a dirt-crusted banana. “Found the breakfast you lost.”
His warlock grin transmits his not-so-secret thoughts.
You can’t dig a hole deep enough to escape me.
I won’t win.
I can’t.
Not against him.
Not against Dany’s soft tugging fingers, Dutch’s whine, or Bishop fucking Barrington, who brushes past the pack to offer me a frosted glass garnished with peach slices stabbed on a plastic sword. “Arnold Palmer? It’s half lemonade and half peach iced tea.”
I am so shit-fucking-fucked.
So screw it.
I still get to have fun.
Right?
I take the glass and gulp.
Bishop watches like the cat who’s already tasted my cream.
He offered me a sword, so I take it between my teeth, dragging off a hunk of peach. Then I offer the tip to Dutch. Reese lets him loose. He lunges to wolf the fruit from my fingers, leaking juice down his chin.
“Wow.” Dany goes googly-eyed. “These are such good notes.”
Just wait, Bunny.
We’re having fun now.
I swipe Dutch’s thick lip and suck maple-sweetened peach from my thumb. “Piggyback me. We’re going to the beach.”
“Oh, fuck.” Dutch falls to his knees. “It’s finally happening.”
The old Marisol clawed back from the grave for a limited-time special engagement.
She won’t last long before the corpse rot catches up, but just for now?
Let’s pretend.
Just once.
