Page 82 of Power Shift

In pack relationships, obviously I know that sharing is a common thing. But not once in my life have I gotten the chanceto experience that. During my heats, I’ve always gone to a clinic and requested a single alpha as opposed to one of the omegaless packs that volunteer. I wanted to save that experience for my pack instead of wasting it on a group of strangers who wouldn’t find anything special in it.

My nipples peak in my bra as I try to control my breathing. Lingering at the top of the staircase, I sniff the air to make sure I haven’t started perfuming too badly before attempting even one more step. Perfuming in front of Landon would actually be my worst nightmare.

Luckily, my scent is only a bit sweeter than normal, so I keep walking. The soup in my hands isn’t anything special, but I couldn’t not offer Landon anything. My omega wouldn’t stop clawing at me the entire time I was cooking it, trying to get me to find and feed him.

I want to take care of Landon, even if he doesn’t want me to. That either makes me naïve or dedicated. I’m not sure which is more accurate quite yet.

My heart rate kicks up with every door I pass. Most of them are open, allowing me a brief look inside while the others have my mind running quickly to try and guess what’s hidden out of sight. I wish I wasn’t so on edge because I’d love to do a bit of snooping to see which room belongs to which alpha.

Last room on the left, Briar.Focus.

I’ve got this. Landon might be ready to draw my blood at any given moment, but at least . . . No, there’s not an at least here.

I stop in front of the door Jasper told me was Landon’s and gulp when his scent grows stronger than I’ve ever smelled it. My head swims as I lift a hand and rap my knuckles across the door.

There’s not a single noise from inside the room. I wait for another minute before growing worried. With a glance back down the hall, I look at the rest of the doors, curious if I chosethe wrong one. Surely, I didn’t. This is the last door on the left, and there was only one hallway to take.

I knock again, a bit harder this time. The inside of my cheek burns when I bite down on it hard enough to taste blood when he doesn’t answer again.

It’s possible that he didn’t go up to his room like the others thought, but there’s a force at my back, softly nudging me to go inside to make sure. I squeeze my eyes shut and drop my hand to the doorknob before giving it a test twist. It goes all the way, unlocked.

With a gentle push, I open the door enough to get hit with a wall of vanilla and cinnamon. My grip is slick on the doorknob as I grow hot beneath my skin. I release it and rub my palms on my skirt.

Landon’s bedroom is exactly what I would have expected a grumpy alpha’s would look like. The lights are off, but that doesn’t affect my ability to see the dark grey walls, drawn blackout curtains with the slightest gap between them, and gigantic bed pushed against the far wall. It’s fitted with a thick, black duvet thrown aside messily from the two singular pillows, as if someone jumped out from beneath without tucking it back in.

A small sliver of light spills onto the floor beside the bed, acting like a beacon. I glance down at the bowl of soup in my hands and then to the two-door nightstand on the side of the bed with the thrown-back duvet. Tossing all caution to the wind, I set the bowl down atop it and head for the light.

My socks cushion my steps on the hardwood as I creep toward the cracked open door and pause, my eyes catching on the reflection in the mirror hung on the wall beyond it. Breathing is suddenly a foreign concept.

Worry mixes with desire so sharp I can taste it. I battle off the latter and step inside, focusing on the man asleep in the tub.

“Landon?”

It’s hot enough in the bathroom for steam to appear thick in the air as I move to the soaker tub planted in the centre of the room. It’s impossible not to blush as I keep my eyes above the clear water.

He shouldn’t be sleeping in here. Especially when he’s alone on the second floor with nobody to keep an eye on him. It’s reckless, and as my frustration blooms, I have to focus on not waking him up and demanding he go to his bed.

But how am I supposed to do that right now? When for the first time since I’ve met him, he isn’t scowling or demanding I leave him alone?

His eyes are shut peacefully, and the frown lines that live in his forehead are smoothed out for once. The lips that are always formed around his blunt, cold words are relaxed, parted with his steady breaths.

The hard edge of the tub digs into the back of his neck, but I doubt he feels it. I’m not sure he feels much of anything right now. With his black hair and naked upper chest completely dry, it doesn’t look like he got much washing done before he fell asleep. If that was why he got in the bath at all.

Continuing to keep my gaze above the water, I take the chance to simply stare at him without his eyes on me, too intense to handle without growing nervous.

With his shoulders as wide as the tub, he has his arms draped over both sides of it, big hands hanging loose. One knee is bent, popping out of the water. The purple and yellow bruises mottling the otherwise pale skin are concerning, and before I can talk myself out of it, I’m reaching out to touch them.

My breath hitches when my fingertips brush the hot skin. Despite the dark hair, it’s smooth. I force my hand back to my side and stare at the small stool in the corner of the room.

It’s like I’m running on autopilot as I grab it and set it beside the tub, sitting beside the alpha who every cell of my genetic makeup says is mine.

As if sensing that he’s not alone anymore, Landon sighs in his sleep, his fingers flexing and reaching through the air. I swallow, my throat tight and dry when they narrowly miss my bare calf.

It’s completely silent in the bathroom besides our breathing when I dip my fingers into the tub by his shoulder to test the temperature of the water. I’m relieved that it’s still warm.

As long as he isn’t alone, he should stay asleep for as long as possible.

His head rolls along the back of the tub toward me as he groans again, this time sounding like he’s in pain. The scrunch of his nose and brows poke at something sensitive between my ribs.

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