Page 14 of Pack Down Bad

Belle purses her lips and thinks for so long that my shoulders tense, and I try to swallow my over-eagerness to prove myself useful to her in some way. Rhys got her to safety. Percy fed her and offered to read to her to help her relax. I want to do more than be the asshole demanding she sleep in my bed.

“Where will you sleep?” she finally asks. She glances at the oversized bed, custom-built to be bigger than a king-sized bed, as if I’m planning to crawl under the sheets beside her. I wish I could; I wish she looked less nervous about the prospect. She drags her teeth across her bottom lip.

“The couch.”

Won’t be the first time I’ve fallen asleep there, though usually I only sleep on the couch when I’m falling asleep during a long-winded documentary or fantasy film that Percy has demanded Rhys and I watch with him.

Belle grimaces.

“I’m sorry that you have to give up your bed for me.” She picks up my favorite pillow to squeeze in her arms for comfort

“Don’thaveto do anything,” I correct her. I’m the one who wanted to offer up my bed for tonight, instead of her staying in Rhys or Percy’s bed.

She drops her chin into my pillow, her expression slightly anguished. Her nostrils flare, and I wonder if she’s reacting to my scent half as much as I am to hers.

Cinnamon.

Like a warm treat is baking in the oven, tempting me.

I don’t want her to argue about sleeping in my bed. No way in hell is she going to be the one spending the night on the couch as if there’s no space for her here. There’s space. We’ll make whatever space she needs. Our pack has been waiting for this moment for far too long.

“Belle,” my voice comes out rougher than intended, “you need rest. We have a lot to sort out tomorrow, and we need to try to figure out more about who you are. Get in the bed.”

I clench my jaw to avoid saying more like,I need you to stay. You’re not going anywhere.

“Okay.” She nods as she places the pillow back on the bed amongst the others.

In a perfect world, she would invite me to help her into bed. In the real world, she keeps her eyes trained on me skeptically as she pulls back the sheet and slips under the dark covers on my bed. Smart woman. We’re still strangers, even with the scent-match heavy in the air. She’s right to be wary while she gets to know us and waits for her memory to return.

I squeeze my hands into fists at my side to help me resist the urge to go to her. All of my willpower is being tested as she shuffles around on my mattress, giving a happy sigh when she settles into a good spot... right where I usually sleep.

She has no idea that she’s cocooning herself in my normal place, pressing herself against the space I’ve imprinted in the bed.

I bite back a groan.

“Goodnight,” I snap, my repressed desire to go to her coming out as frustration.

Her lips twitch into a frown. “Night,” she responds softly. “Thank you.”

I nod tersely, unable to help myself. The more embarassed I am about acting like an asshole to her out of self preservation, the more I seem to double-down on being a jerk. Either I rein myself in, or I risk alienating her from me completely.

No matter how nice Rhys and Percy might be to her, she has to chooseallof us in order to be the pack’s omega. Am I really going to risk being the one that fucks this up for all of us?

I need an outlet. My art workshop is calling me.

Get out, I tell myself. I’ve lingered in the bedroom with Belle long enough, and it’s past time for me to give her space to get a good night’s sleep. In the morning, I can try to be on my best behavior so she doesn’t think I’m an irredeemable ass.

“Knox?” Belle calls out softly before I can leave.

The only way I can continue to resist the urge to go to her is by bracing my hands with a tight grip around the door frame. If I get too close to her in my bed, I’m going to crack. I’ve resisted this long. I need to pretend to have a single ounce of self-control, even if it’s only an act. No way in hell will I risk scaring her off.

“The bed smells like you.”

Her words crack my chest wide open. My heart is throbbing, desperate to pull her close and let her feel the way my heart beats a special rhythm for her.

“I like the way you smell like Sage,” she mumbles sleepily, her voice warped like she’s pressed her face into my pillow.

I’m going to break.

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