Lucas jumps in first, as the others seem inexplicably at a loss for words. “Kyren is great. He’s really funny and?—”
“Unpredictable,” Cash interjects, his tone carefully measured.
“Resourceful,” Matheo counters.
“Charming,” Lucas adds.
“A menace to society,” Cash mutters under his breath.
I bite my lip, trying and failing to read between the lines. “Is he...dangerous?”
“Not to you” Lucas says quickly.
“Not physically,” Cash clarifies, adjusting his glasses.
Matheo sighs. “Kyren is...an acquired taste. But he’s loyal and exceptionally good at reading people. Which could be useful in your situation. If he were here, I’m sure he’d promise to be whatever you need.”
I take a deep breath, weighing my options. Four perfect strangers pretending to be my devoted pack versus facing my ex-fiancés alone. When put that way, the choice is obvious.
“And you all agreed on this?” I ask, looking at each of them in turn. “I don’t want to cause problems within your pack.”
Lucas nods enthusiastically and nudges Cash, who gives me a gentle smile despite the unease in his expression. Matheo’s dark eyes meet mine with a vehemence that makes my stomach flip.
“We’re agreed,” Matheo confirms.
Lucas leans forward, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “I just have one more question.”
“Yes?”
“Would you like to do a compatibility check?”
My cheeks flush instantly. Compatibility checks are traditionally done between potential mates—a brief scenting to determine basic biological compatibility. They’re perfectly acceptable in professional matchmaking settings, but still intimate enough to make my pulse quicken.
“That’s not necessary for a temporary arrangement, if you don’t want to do it.” Cash says quickly, shooting Lucas a warning glance. “We don’t want to scare her away.”
But I find myself nodding before I can overthink it. “Actually, I think it’s a good idea. If we’re going to convince my sister and my exes that we’re a real pack, we should at least know if we can make a good show of it.”
And if they can manage to even slightly penetrate the emotional wall of my heat suppressants, then it probably means we’re very compatible.
Then the three of them turn to me—with varying levels of intensity in their direct gazes—and I wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake or the best decision of my life.
EIGHT
LUCAS
I standup before anyone else can catch up, because I just have to touch her. Even with the dulling chemical edge of her suppressants, Trinity might smell better than any other omega I’ve ever met. Thanks to the meds, it’s hard to pin down completely.
She smells sweet, but also earthy. The scent is difficult to describe but reminds me of my earliest memories of drinking chai iced tea on the back porch of my parents’ lake house. She makes me think of summer and boyhood and a simpler time in my life I never expected to get back.
I just have to touch her.
I reach for Trinity’s hand, my fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. “Let’s see if we’re compatible,” I say, surprised by the huskiness in my voice.
Her hand slides into mine, small but surprisingly strong. The moment our skin touches, electricity shoots up my arm. Trinity rises to her feet with a grace that makes my heart stutter. She follows my lead without hesitation, responding to the lightest pressure of my fingers like we’ve danced together a thousand times before.
Mine. The word thunders through my brain before I can stop it.
Those alphas—her exes—said she wasn’t omega enough? This girl? Who already sways forward into my arms at the lightest touch on her back. The thought ignites something primal inside me. How could anyone look at this woman and think she was lacking? It’s absurd. It’s infuriating.
