Page 99 of Pack Plus One

“I’m not here for your amusement,” I tell him, but my fingers still find their way to his hair, absently stroking through the soft strands.

He practically purrs, eyes closing in contentment. “Could have fooled me.”

We stay like that, comfortable in the silence, until his hand reaches up to capture mine, bringing my palm to his lips. “You smell like Caleb,” he murmurs against my skin.

“He ambushed me in the kitchen.”

Jude’s eyes darken slightly. “Without me? Rude.” He nips at my wrist, and the unexpected sensation makes me gasp. “Guess I’ll have to catch up.”

Before I can process what’s happening, he’s shifted, rising up to capture my lips in a kiss that’s playful but demanding. Jude kisses like he’s savoring a dessert—appreciative, indulgent, and with obvious enjoyment.

When he pulls back, he’s wearing that insufferable smirk. “There. Now you smell like me too.”

Two days of Liam’s quiet attentiveness, his careful distance so clearly calculated to give me space, though his eyes follow me with an intensity that makes me wonder what he’s looking for.

I find him in his room that afternoon, surrounded by books and looking unfairly attractive in reading glasses.

“Looking for something?” he asks without looking up.

“Just browsing,” I say, running my fingers along the spines of ancient-looking texts. “You have quite the collection.”

“Feel free to borrow anything that interests you,” he offers, finally meeting my gaze. Something in his expression shifts when he scents the air. “You’ve been with Caleb and Jude today.”

It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. “They’re not exactly subtle.”

“No,” he agrees, setting his book aside and removing his glasses. “They never have been.”

He stands, moving with that fluid grace all alphas seem to possess, closing the distance between us. Unlike the others, Liam never rushes, never pounces. He approaches like he’s giving me time to retreat if I want to.

I…don’t.

“And does their lack of subtlety bother you?” he asks, stopping just within my personal space.

I swallow, suddenly aware of how my heartbeat has accelerated. “Not exactly.”

His fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear, the touch lingering. “What about my subtlety? Does that bother you?”

“Sometimes,” I admit. “It’s hard to know what you’re thinking.”

A small smile touches his lips. “I could show you.”

When he kisses me, I go weak. Liam kisses with precision and focus, like he’s conducting research—noting every response, adjusting his approach based on my reactions. His mouth moves against mine with such focused intention that I feel thoroughlyanalyzed and utterly consumed all at once. It’s not wild or impulsive like the others—it’s the calm, relentless perfection of someone who has mapped every sensitive spot and plans to exploit each one systematically until I’m trembling.

Two days of Mason’s steady presence, anticipating needs I didn’t know I had, filling the spaces between the alphas’ with practical comforts—clean towels, fresh sheets, tea steeped to perfection.

I find him in the kitchen before dinner, chopping vegetables with the skill of a sous chef.

“Need help?” I offer, leaning against the counter beside him.

His eyes flicker to me, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve been busy today.”

I feel my cheeks warm. “They found me, not the other way around.”

“I didn’t say I disapproved,” he says mildly, setting down his knife and turning to face me fully. “Though I do feel somewhat left out.”

Mason doesn’t reach for me immediately. He waits, patient as always, until I make the first move. When I step closer, his hands settle on my hips, gentle but sure.

“We can’t have that,” I murmur, surprising myself with my boldness as I rise on tiptoes.

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