Page 25 of A Pack of Honey
"Oh, shut the fuck up," I snap, feigning annoyance, but it only fuels the tension brewing in the air. I turn to head inside, but he halts me with a gentle hand on my arm, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down my spine.
He meets my eyes and I know he can see what I'm thinking and feeling. I see it in him too. I've spent so much time trying not to get attached that I missed the need lurking in Cole’s gaze. There's something so dominant and savage underneath the layered finery he keeps around himself. Like a deadly animal wrapped in a package so fine, you forget that it's still feral at its core.
"We'll figure this out, Sunny, together. I'll take care of it." His voice is low, firm, and commanding, leaving no room for doubt.He's not just talking about the threats and the farm. He's talking about all the feelings, needs, and scents between us. I nod, and he lets me go, pulling open the screen door so I can step through alone. I make my way up to my room, strip off my dirty clothes, take a two-minute shower, and throw on a slip nightgown. I feel the fabric glide over my body, igniting little sparks of awareness. Finally collapsing into bed, my heart races. My thoughts are thick with possibilities, and I can't ignore the pull of what awaits with my pack.
***
Thunder cleaves the dark, and I sit bolt-upright in my bed. No wonder the air was so heavy and humid when I went to sleep. It was all that rain-soaked potential waiting to be released. Rain drums a melody against the roof of the farmhouse. It beats against the windows. I usually love thunderstorms. The smell, the electric charge, and knowing that I'm safe and warm inside while everything outside my window is cold and miserable. So why is my heart pounding in my chest while a sickening panic crawls up my spine?
Outside. Something is outside.
I whine, my omega clawing to the surface. I move to the window and peer out but can't see anything through the darkness and rain. A flash of lightning illuminates blindingly, and I see the tent in the afterglow. It's being pulled back and forth by the forceful winds. The poles are cheap, shitty plastic, but the stakes are metal. The wind whips at the fabric so hard it looks like it'll blow away at any moment. I'm running downstairs without processing a plan.
I fling the screen door open and almost slip down the steps. When I reach the tent, I throw myself to my knees and struggle with slippery, wet fingers to unzip the flap. I'm soaked through in seconds.
My nightgown. In my haste, I hadn't put anything over or under it. I push the thought aside. Too late now. I finally get the fucking flap open and am met with four disheveled-looking alphas staring back at me in the dim glow of a battery-operated lantern. They look more like wolves in a wet cave than men. They freeze at my intrusion.
"Come on!" I yell over the intense, rolling thunder that feels like it might break the earth beneath our feet. I don't wait to see if they'll join me inside. I book it back to the door. Not that it does me any good. I may as well have jumped in the lake because of how wet I am.
As soon as I push through the door, I know they've followed me. The door doesn't even shut behind me before four huge alphas track mud and rainwater all over my poor floors. Each is breathing heavily and staring at me. I think it's the storm and the fact that I must look like I've been dunked. Then I remember my nightgown.
I look down to find that the light pink silk camisole nightgown that goes down to my knees is now clinging to every inch of my body… and has become sheer. It provides almost no coverage, and my breasts are completely outlined. My nipples are hard peeks pointing straight at the alphas. I'm shaking so hard that my vision blurs a bit. The water is glacial, and I don't have heat in the middle of the summer.
I look up and freeze. Four completely feral alphas look back at me.
Luca
Theedgesofmyvision are blurred, but thankfully, I'm still in control… barely. Because no one else in this damn house seems to be. Sunny takes one step toward the door leading to the hall.
"Stop!" I bark. She freezes, and I swear every muscle in her body has locked up. She looks to me wide-eyed and scared. Her scent is a mixture of bitter, too-long steeped tea from fright… and thick honey from arousal?
Cannot focus on that right now. Need to stay in control.
I look around. Jess is staring at the floor, breathing hard, while Hunt has his eyes fully shut and is gripping the kitchen counter so hard I think he may break the granite. Both are on the bitterest edge of a rut. I expect I'd be much closer if it weren't for all those books I'd read about keeping yourself from snapping into a rut. The breathing techniques and the exercises. Then there's Cole. As the dominant alpha, we're directly influenced by his actions and commands, both verbally and physically. He's standing stock still. The other two haven't lunged at Sunnybecause he's barely holding himself in check. Every single muscle in his body is flexed.
"R-rut," Sunny stutters out. Not because of her fear, I realize, but because she's shivering so hard from the cold rainwater dripping down her body. Her very slick, very taught body.
And I'm breathing. And I'm breathing some more.
I need to get her dry and keep us all from flying into a rut and doing something that would end any chance of a courtship—and possibly hurt Sunny. The problem is, if she moves to leave or get towels, Cole's dominant alpha may take that as a fleeing gesture, and alphas are biologically programmed to chase and hunt and claim their omega if they run during times of peak sexual arousal. Like bears in the forest.
"Do not perfume," I bark, and put as much dominance behind it as I can muster. Sunny’s omega will be forced to do everything in her power to obey. It'd be most effective coming from Cole, but I don't think he can speak right now judging from the blown-black state of his pupils.
Sunny trembles harder, her omega trying to lock down her body's natural processes. This cannot last long. It has to be hurting her.
"Towels?" I cannot stop myself from barking.
"C-closet at the end of the hall," she shudders.
I breathe and stride out of the room, decimating the distance between me and the hall closet. I nearly rip the door off its hinge, open it, and pull all the towels out.
When I get back, no one has moved a muscle. I toss a towel to Sunny and lightly bark, “Catch” to let her omega know it's okay to move again. I think she understands the danger at this point. I can't take her the towel because Cole may see that as a challenge move. And in his state, he may rip my arm off—literally.
I toss the towels to the rest of the guys, who all catch them without looking. Everyone dries off in silence, including Sunny.I gave her the largest towel, which wraps around her shoulders and down to her thighs, completely covering her. She still shivers, but it's not the jaw-breaking, body-wracking shakes of before.
"Go," Cole barks low and dangerous.
Sunny's eyes snap to him, surprised. Then, to my shock, they slide to mine, searching, trusting. I nod slightly, which Cole clocks but doesn't comment on. Sunny practically flees the room without breaking into a run, obviously knowing we'd chase her.
