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Seraphina
For the firsttime since I moved here, I wake up to the enticing aroma of bacon and eggs mingling with the rich scent of fresh coffee instead of the usual feline musk. Blinking my eyes open, I stretch luxuriously. Pillows surround me like a fortress of comfort and fluff, cocooning me in warmth.
I snuggle deeper into the cozy haven of my bed, not really wanting to get up, but my bladder insists on delivering a harsh ultimatum, and it eventually propels me out of bed. I don’t remember making my way up here, so one of the guys must have carried me up.
I should probably feel embarrassed about that, especially when I spot Devlin’s button-down shirt beside my pillow, along with a black shirt that suspiciously carries Ashton’s scent of nutmeg.
Just omega things.
I wiggle my toes, casting an expectant gaze around the room, only to realize that no cat is in sight.
Nibbling my bottom lip in contemplation, I creep over to the railing and peer down into the kitchen, where Max is diligently plating breakfast. My jaw practically drops when I catch sightof him. Dressed in low-slung gray sweatpants and nothing else, he’s the epitome of a god right out of every fairy tale I’ve ever read. He pulled his hair back into a man bun, with delicate tendrils framing his handsome face, and the contrast between his chiseled muscles and the softness of his skin is a sight to behold.
Honestly, I could watch him all day. It’s my own personal omega hell, because looking like that, he could easily send me spiraling into a heat—a heat I just agreed to let them help me through.
May the Fates have mercy on me.
“Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to join me for breakfast?” I’m busted. Max’s eyes meet mine, a mischievous sparkle dancing within his seductive gaze.
“Honestly, I’m good just watching,” I blurt, unable to contain the truth. Max’s laughter ripples up to me, and I savor every melodious note of it.
“Get your sweet ass down here, sugarplum,” he playfully orders, returning to his task of plating food. “We have a big day ahead of us, and you aren’t working today.”
I pout, but my disappointment is far from genuine if it means I get to feast my eyes on him all day. “How did you manage that?”
“I happen to know the owner,” he retorts with a playful wink.
With my knees audibly cracking as I rise, I slowly walk down the steps and into the small bathroom, determined not to check my reflection in the mirror because I already know I’m flushed.
When I emerge from the bathroom, Max is still gloriously shirtless—thank the Fates for that—and he’s leaning against the counter, his intense alpha presence sending a thrilling shiver up my spine. The fact that he directs all his masculine energy at me is both exhilarating and nerve-racking.
“Where are the twins?” I inquire as I slide onto a stool across from him.
He doesn’t answer immediately, choosing instead to push a plate of eggs, bacon, toast, and a glass of orange juice toward me. “They are at the base, checking in. They have to register that they’ll be with you during your heat.”
Don’t think about it, Seraphina.
I let out a thoughtful hum as I pick up a piece of bacon and savor its delicious, salty crunch. It tastes better than anything I’ve ever consumed in my entire life. “So what’s the plan?”
“The plan is that I have to go into the institute today,” he says slowly, gauging my reaction to this news.
“I’m close to a heat,” I confess, nibbling on another bite of bacon before diving into my eggs, reveling in their cheesy goodness. That’s it. He can never leave me. I’m completely and utterly screwed.
“You are,” he agrees. “However, you’ll be with me the whole time.”
“What if I spike?” I ask, pushing my eggs around, unsure how to navigate this new territory. At the sanctuary, if we went into preheat, it was time for hydration and filling up on calories, as if we were hibernating bears.
“Then I’ll take you into my office,” he whispers seductively, leaning closer, “set you on my desk, and eat you for lunch.”
“Oh,” I stammer, my cheeks flushing as heat rushes through my body in response to his suggestive words. “Just that?”
This eccentric philanthropist is certainly full of surprises. Trying to distract myself from the enticing view of his unmarked skin, I focus on my food, taking another bite as he stands up, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he saunters over to a bag by my bathroom.
“Where are the cats?” I realize that none of them have bothered me this morning.
Clearing his throat, he points to a corner of the living room, just to the right of my kitchen cabinet. “The twins were busy while you slept,” he says, grabbing a change of clothing from his duffle before setting it down and walking over to the corner.
I almost don’t want to know, but my curiosity gets the better of me, and I quickly slide off my stool to peek around the corner. What I see leaves me nearly breathless—it’s one of the largest cat towers I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s something I’ve always wanted but never purchased because these things can be insanely expensive.
