Page 47 of A Pack of Pumpkins
“I don’t want anyone feeling unsafe where they live,” I say softly. Victor's eyes shutter, but for a brief moment, his gaze connects to mine in a way that makes my chest ache before he looks away.
I press on. “We’re obviously mates. All of us. Including you," I say into the empty space above the table, speaking directly to Finian. "That’s a lot of coincidence for one house. I believe in fate, but I also believe in common sense. And those flyers that both me and the Ember pack got, advertising this house with our specific needs…seems a little too good to be just fate.”
The planchette moves.
M-Y P-A-C-K.
A gentler wind sweeps the table, rustling papers until the obituary sheet from the library lands on top—Finian’s pack’s names front and center. Next to Sorcha’s name, more appear.
Seamus – brother. Matilda – niece. Brad Ringer – grand nephew.
“That’s our dad’s name,” Victor says quietly. My eyes snap to him, his and Dagan’s faces mirror shock. Finian lists more names, each connecting directly from Finian's pack to Jack and Bram.
We all sit there, breathless.
“But… how did you know about me?” I ask. “Your pack hadn’t found an omega yet.”
A door creaks open upstairs. A soft breeze carries down the staircase, fluttering a sheet of paper that lands on the table, face-down.
Bram flips it over. It’s a sketch of me, standing on the beach in front of this house. Yellow bell-sleeve dress. Light blue hair.
“I was walking, just after I moved here,” I say slowly. I look to Victor. “How could you have drawn this?”
His eyes burn into mine. “I dreamt about it.”
My heart stumbles.
I turn back to the board. “So you saw me… scented me, and tracked them down. But what about the house, the decor, the rental company? How could you pull all that off?”
The planchette drags across the board: T-O-M-O-R-R-O-W.
The clock strikes one. Outside, the storm has softened to a drizzle. The time of the dead has passed. I feel it deep in my bones.
Finian is gone except for the faintest curl of baked bread that clings to the air, and the whisper ofDarlin'that brushes my mind like a promise. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough… and I’m not sure if that’s hope or warning.
Dagan
Weallheadupstairs.Despite being semi-civil tonight, Victor disappears into his room and bolts the door. I shake my head, hoping this is the start of him pulling himself together.
Jack and Clara stroll up the stairs hand in hand, and a surge of jealousy claws at my gut. My alpha snarls inside me. I take a deep breath and force it down. Her bonds with each of us will move at different paces.
I’m turning toward my own door when a small hand presses to my back, stopping me. My omega is looking up at me, eyes hopeful.
“Do you want to come up to the pack bed?”she signs a little choppy but she’s doing so well. I’m so proud she’s my mate.
My heart soars. “Are you sure, Mine?” I sign back. I don’t want her inviting me just because she scented the sour edge of jealousy on me.
She nods. “You and Bram,” she adds aloud.
Bram stumbles at his door like her words just took his knees out. I press closer to Clara, her chest brushing mine, her breath warm against my throat. Bram moves in behind her, and her apple-and-cinnamon perfume blooms between us heady and sharp with the edge of slick. One of her arms loops around my neck. The other curls back to catch Bram.
Jack growls from behind, not liking being locked out of this formation.
“Let’s go up and get comfortable,” she says.
Wefollow. I’m already painfully hard. If she only wants to sleep, I’ll give her that.
But then, once we're in the bedroom, she turns and climbs me like a tree. One second she’s standing. The next, her legs are wrapped around my waist, her heat pressed against my cock, only a whisper of fabric between us.
