Page 82 of Pack Owned
“Focus, Kayla,” I tell myself, shaking my head to clear it. “Food first. Then figure out how not to jump your Alphas every time they’re near.”
I shuffle through my drawers, yanking out a pair of underwear and some loose sweatpants that won’t rub me raw. A T-shirt follows, something baggy and comfy. After I get dressed, I run a comb through my tangled hair.
“Good enough,” I sigh, casting a critical eye in the mirror before heading downstairs.
The aroma hits me first—rich maple syrup and savory bacon, making my mouth water. The kitchen is alive with the clatter of dishes and the low hum of masculine voices, laughter bubbling over the sound of sizzling from the stove.
“Feeling better?” Dane greets me, his smile as warm as the plate of French toast he slides in front of me.
“Yeah. A bit.”
Ryker’s eyes flash with a knowing glint, but he keeps his mouth shut, pouring black coffee into his mug. Liam is at the counter, piling bacon and French toast onto his plate.
I dig into the food and moan. The hunger is real, though—not just for the guys, but for this hearty meal, too.
I belong here, with them. It feels right as though every crappy thing I’ve ever gone through was leading me to this weird, wonderful family.
“There’s plenty, so have as much as you like,” Dane urges, always the caretaker.
My three Alphas join me at the table, and for a while, everything is perfect.
Since this morning was so much earlier for me, I took a nap and woke up a few hours later. The rest of the day passes in a blur of indulgence and care. They’ve taken it upon themselves to pamper me, and who am I to argue?
We sprawl in the living room, a marathon of rom-coms playing on the TV. Dane makes kettle corn popcorn for us to eat, my fave.
“You need to give me the recipe for this. It’s so addictive.”
“Only the best for you,” he says, winking.
There’s a ding on the security camera, and Liam disappears for a few moments and returns with pizza boxes stacked on top of one another. “Special delivery!”
“Damn, Liam, you trying to feed an army?” My complaint is hollow. I’m already reaching for a slice, the spicy scent wafting up, and suddenly, I’m starving.
“Got to keep our Omega happy,” he replies with a grin.
The wine comes later when my eyelids are heavy, and the couch has become my personal cloud. Dane hands me a glass, the red liquid swirling seductively.
“Here, this’ll help you relax.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, taking a tentative sip. The warmth spreads through me, both comforting and dangerous.
Thoughts of asking them to join me upstairs tease me, images of tangled limbs and shared breaths tantalizingly close. But every so often, a twinge of pain shoots through me if I move a certain way—a sharp reminder that I’m still healing from last night’s passions.
So, I snuggle deeper into the cushions with all three of us on the couch. Dane’s arm is around me, Ryker’s leg brushes against mine, and Liam’s shoulder serves as a pillow.
“Pretty Woman” wraps up with its happily-ever-after schtick, but who needs a stuffy billionaire when you’ve got three Alphas this hot right here?
I yawn so huge, I hurt myself. Yeah, sleep is definitely calling my name. My eyelids feel like they’ve been dipped in lead paint.
My Alphas’ voices are a low rumble, a comforting soundtrack to my descent toward dreamland. Dane’s got that serious undertone, even when he’s whispering. Liam’s voice is smooth as silk, probably spinning some outlandish story about scaling a mountain with his bare hands. And Ryker? He’s all quiet intensity, a low growl that vibrates straight through my bones.
The movie fades into a blurry mess, the edges of the world softening around me. I’m cocooned in safety, wrapped in the potent mix of their scents.
“Kayla’s out,” Dane whispers.
“Like a light,” Liam adds, and I can practically hear the smirk in his voice.
“Good,” Ryker grunts, “She needs the rest.”
