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We cross the grounds, dripping inappropriate pheromones.
I could kill my perfume and hide the scent.
But I won’t.
Reese burns so happy, he toasts my heart golden brown, but I know him too well to miss his shadows. We’re the same. Always starving for more. “I’m buying you a baseball team.”
“Solly. You can’t make me some kind of nepo-tizzy sugar baby.”
“Why?” The Redfang blood money is basically mine.
Might as well spend it on something good.
Reese drags me to a stop in the middle of the lawn. “Which team?”
“Which one has your favorite mascot?”
“Fuck. Always taking care of me so good.” Reese tackles me to the grass, cradling my head.
He kisses deep.
Eating my air.
I lift my hips and part my lips, putting on a show for the Wyvern trainees jogging past. “You don’t have to give up anything else.”
None of us do.
“I’m not,” Reese rumbles. “Ball could’ve been my ticket somewhere better, but I don’t wanna be stuck playing some double-header in the heartland when my pack needs me home. Besides. I’m made for merc shit, and Wyvern House has a beer league team. You gonna be in the stands when they name me MVP?”
My heart squeezes at the image. A beaming future Reese, finally lifting his trophy. Only, I won’t be in the stands. “I’ll rush the field.”
Reese purrs my spine liquid. “See? Already getting everything I wanted.”
“Same.” But I’m still buying him a team.
Then Reese can play, manage, or take me on dates in the owner’s box. Anything he wants, as long as he’s happy.
We kiss under the blue sky, breathing sunshine and sharing the same heartbeat. By the time we near the training arena, we’re grass-stained, rumpled, and late enough to stop for lunch.
But I veto the canteen when a weird jangle jolts our bond.
Dutch is waiting.
No.
Not just waiting.
Something else.
Finn fucking Wyvern.
“Shit.” Reese sprints to catch up with me.
I beat him to the training arena, zinging past security toward the source of the unhappy hum.
The arena is packed with obstacle courses and built-to-scale buildings. We’ve been running scenarios with paintball guns, practicing formations with our new teammates.
Hair and pheromones loose, I leap a mud pit, leaving a class of trainees gasping. My control reached a whole new level after I was sprung free. Now I stun and keep running, in no danger of hurting anyone but the red-headed bastard who needs a fresh lesson.
