Page 35 of A Pack of Mistletoe
“Promise?” Evander insists, holding out his pinky.
I roll my eyes, but can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. I hook mine around his. “Promise.”
He tugs me forward by the pinky and folds me into a hug, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head.
When I finally leave them in the living room, my legs feel heavy, my nerves wrung out like I’ve been running for hours. The bed is neatly made, someonemust have done it earlier, and the soft comforter and mountain of pillows look impossibly inviting.
The restless hum of my newly awake omega lingers beneath my skin, but fatigue wins.
I change into a camisole and shorts, slip beneath the covers, and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Kai
After Rosie went to bed, we stayed up talking. None of us were really ready to sleep.
“It’s clear the drug is wearing off,” Harlan says, his voice steady but grim. “Because it’s experimental, there’s no way to predict what kind of symptoms she might have. Has she mentioned how long she’s been on it, Kai?”
I shake my head. “I tried bringing it up tonight, but she didn’t want to talk about it yet.”
Harlan is clearly thinking it through. He’s always been good at seeing every angle, considering every possible outcome before acting. It’s one of the reasons I joined his pack in the first place. I knew he could protect me from my own family’s expectations.
“Hopefully she’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow,” Wyatt says quietly. He’s standing next to me in the kitchen, his broad frame radiating warmth in the chill of the room.
The silence stretches between us, comfortable but heavy. Everything feels dimmer when Rosie’s not here, like the house loses its color. But Wyatt is steady. Solid. His presence makes the edges of the world soften again.
Watching him tonight, feeding Rosie those homemade candies on the wagon ride, something shifted inside me. A spark, maybe. A warmth I didn’t realize I’d been missing.
Since the night Rosie vanished two years ago, I’ve felt like I’ve been living in limbo. Waiting.
And when I met Wyatt, I wanted to move forward and open myself up again. There’s always been something familiar between us, something easy. But with Rosie gone, maybe lost for good, I wasn't able to. It felt wrong.
Like my heart had been put on pause.
Now that she’s here, I thought it would overshadow what I feel for Wyatt. Instead, it’s sharpened it. Seeing them together gives me purpose. Watching them happy. It makes something inside me settle.
I shift my stance, leaning just slightly closer. Wyatt’s sugar cookie scent surrounds me, warm and grounding. Our shoulders touch. He turns his head, and I tip my chin up to meet his deep green gaze. Heat sparks down my spine.
There’s conversation happening. It's something about logistics, I think. But it fades to background noise. Wyatt’s lips curl, just a little, and I can't help the boldness that blooms in me. Maybe it’s the kiss I shared with Rosie. Maybe it’s the kiss I shared withhim.
My hand lifts, almost on instinct, fingers brushing into the stubble on his jaw.
His eyes widen slightly and then soften. The look he gives me is warm and edged with hunger. His scent changes, thickens, like cookie dough baking in the oven. It's sweet, hot, and close to melting.
He shifts to face me fully, palm sliding to my waist. His cowboy hat sits abandoned on the counter, his brown hair pushed back, cheekbones catching the low light.
Then—
A cough.
I nearly jump. Irritation flares sharp in my chest. Wyatt sees it too, his chuckle low and unapologetic as we turn back to the others.
“We weresaying,” Evander drawls like he’s talking to a pair of naughty schoolboys, “maybe we should all go to bedtogetherso the in-and-out doesn’t wake Rose. You know—the omega in our bed.” His eyebrows are halfway up into his ridiculous hairline.
I love him like a brother. I also want to strangle him… like a brother.
“Sounds good,” Wyatt rumbles before I can say anything.
When we open the bedroom door, Rosie’s already asleep. Her soft snores fill the room, and damn if it isn’t the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.
