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“Fuck yeah,” Dutch growls, all bacon and smoke, grabbing for my arm. “Heat honeymoon.”
“First off, I’m a gamma? We don’t have heats,” I lie straight-faced, wiggling from his grasp. They’ll never know. “Second. I’m not the real Serafina. I’m your stand-in mate, and anything between us can only be an act. If you won’t agree to that, then—”
“We agree,” Jin jumps in before I can think of a good ultimatum.
“No.” Dutch pouts pillow lips. “You don't speak for me.”
“Packleader.” Bishop gestures to the driver seat. “He speaks for us all.”
“Now you’re playing the P-card?” Dutch huffs. “You won’t even let us take your name. No. You do your schemes and shit. I’m mating my Solly.”
He tugs my hand under his chin. The bob of his Adam’s apple tickles my knuckles in premonition:
Dutch is going to be a problem.
“Can I join your pack?” He strokes my fingers against his rough-stubbled throat.
It’s hard to say no when I can’t suck enough air to breathe.
Bishop scoffs. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Try it. Then you won’t be so jealous.” Dutch tugs my arm, trying to tip me into his lap. “Please, Solly? Otherwise, I’ll do something dumb and accidentally ruin your plans. I suck at lying.”
Reese rubs his brow. “Last time he went undercover, he ended up working at a diner full-time for six months.”
“They were short-staffed,” Dutch says defensively.
“It’s your choice,” Jin offers. “I can always bench Dutch if he causes you trouble.”
“Let me be your first alpha,” Dutch presses. “I don’t need much. A few hugs an hour. Some snuggles. And maybe some other stuff, but that’s mostly it.”
The boom of my heart sounds miles away.
“You could order me.” That’s what alphas usually do. If Dutch would cross the line, I could tell him to screw off.
Bitch mode is useless when he acts cute.
“Like this?” His sunshiny voice drops to a raspy, skin-stroking command. “Let me give you a hug.”
Let me misses the point of a bark, but Dutch’s dominance is fully functional. Goose bumps pop on arms that ache to open for him. “That’s not how that works.”
“Right?” Dutch nods, undeterred. “That’s why you have to take me. I’m hopeless.”
Dutch isn’t stupid.
He knows how to work his assets.
He works them good.
I have the same problem four times over—play their games, lose control. I’d rather surrender and move on. “You can be my fake alpha until Serafina’s free.”
“Yesssss,” Dutch’s purr torches my fingertips. “What do we call our pack? The Moons?”
“Fake pack.” I try to reclaim the hand that’ll be ruined forever if he doesn’t stop humming into my blood.
“Never,” the word rips through Jin’s teeth.
“Dutch Moon?” Bishop puffs a breath. “May as well call you Amsterdam Sunset.”
