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I want to push him away.
I want to run so far from the tears in his eyes and the way he trembles, bleeding and vulnerable.
But his magic cancels my need to cringe, and instead of doing the right, honorable thing, I disappear into him and this impossible moment.
I missed you.
I missed you so fucking much.
Dutch clings just like he did after his dad’s funeral. Only then, he was a kid in a starchy collared shirt.
Not a full-grown alpha in gravity-challenged sweatpants that fell even lower when he tackled me to the earth. His smooth, bare skin is so hot, he steams in the morning air, puffing out scent like a pancake fresh off the griddle.
The bus station is calling my name, but Dutch’s need calls louder.
My body doesn’t resist his arms.
Maybe my need is screaming the loudest.
My heart dances between doom and delirium.
But before I can follow the fantasy any farther down the foxhole, a sports-car bulldozes the chain-link fence. It off-roads down the hill, tearing to a stop in a cloud of dirt and dragging me back to the reality where I’m always screwed the second I drop my guard.
My scent glands fire, ready to tear down another enemy.
Wish it were an enemy.
“Princess!” Reese’s raw call echoes like a grand slam ball, pinging my vertebrae on its way out of the park. Wearing nothing but the shorts he slept in, Reese sprints across the field.
Bish and Jin follow. Jin in silk pajama bottoms, and Bish—
I can’t breathe.
It’s rare to spot him wearing anything but neat slacks.
Now he sprints in the fluffy mint bathrobe I left folded on Dany’s bed, every stride flashing bare thigh. He’s so laser-focused on me, he doesn’t seem to realize he’s undressed.
Dutch sighs into my collarbone. “We can finally be a pack.”
I’m trying to find the words to explain why that’s impossible. Then a siren chirp kills the bear hug I can’t bring myself to stop.
“Cops?” Dutch lifts us to our feet before I can blink, tucking me behind his body to protect me from the threat.
Like I’m not the most dangerous thing on the field.
An SUV with tinted windows and no plates rolls over the downed fence.
Sick knowing twists my stomach. “Those aren’t cops.”
“Kairo?” Reese isn’t winded when he cuts his sprint at our side.
“Kairo would’ve brought a fleet.” Jin squares up, instinctively taking the lead position as the alphas form around me.
Bishop completes the protective square. “Kairo would’ve found the safe house months ago if he had eyes in this zip code.” He tries to straighten his lapels, but he falters when his hands catch terry cloth instead of tailored silk. Even then, he doesn’t flinch, staring down the enemy.
He ran here for me.
Mostly naked, chasing his mate who fled.
