Pack Darling Part Two

by Lola Rock

No one on this frigid fucking planet can tell me what to do. But Lilah. She could tell me to walk in traffic. Which lane, baby girl?

Then Lilah motherfucking Darling mounts my face. Best day of my life.

My only response is a panicked baby goat noise.

It’s much too fucking perfect. So, naturally I panic, kicking my way out of the cuddle pile.

my stomach rumbles. “You need food.” Orion puts a hand on his taut bare abs. “Oh. We need food.”

“Just hungry. Gonna cock. I mean cock. I mean cook!”

So I take a few minutes, head in the fridge, hitting the button every time the appliance chirps. Eventually, my neck cools and the silence behind me thickens, gazes burning my shoulders. I have to peek. The five of them lean at the kitchen island like action figures. Watching.

“We’ll help cook,” Atlas starts. “I’ve been learning.“ “I’ll help cock.” Finn licks his lips. Hunter smacks him.

I want to learn everything about being an omega so that I can anticipate what she needs and be the first one to give it to her.

Lilah wouldn’t ask for a sandwich, let alone actual help.

“Right?” Finn bounces. “Let’s go fuck up those guys from last night. Then we can go shopping for Star. I’ll show you the best shit.” “Good.” Jett nods, brushes off his shirt, leaving a blood streak down his chest. “Let’s go.” Total fucking psychos.

I gape at the fully-loaded fork. “You’re seriously going to feed me?” Atlas smirks. Smirks. “You want airplane noises?”

“If you say that shit, then go hurt her again—” “You can both stab me.”

Must ban ridiculous pet names.

“What kind of fucking idiots wouldn’t want to keep you?” “Don’t answer that,” Atlas mumbles into my hair. “I know five,” I say,

I’ve seen all the porn, but never seen a dick that pretty.

Fuck my walls. They stormed the castle. I tried flaming arrows and boiling oil, but I forgot. Wyverns can fly.

Orion hooked my reading app to their pack card. Big mistake.

I’m gonna download so many books that my favorite authors can all buy second homes.

A venue? It’s a freaking military compound. Unless Sorensens want to take me to the shooting range, we’re out of luck.

I might as well get my Wyvern ass stamp. I mean, shit. I should check a mirror. Might already have one.

It wouldn’t be a challenge. They’d just slit your throat. Jett would do it surgically while Finn danced in the blood.

They tried to make blueberry happy faces and ended up with bloody-smiled nightmares that are lumpy and cute and kind of look like Finn.

Orion shudders. “He smiled.” “And laughed. Shouldn’t be allowed.”

“What are we?” “House cats.” My lips fall open. “What?” “House cats,” he insists. “Kinda cranky and cuddly and we’ll fuck shit up if you leave us alone too long.”

I’m toast, but even more baked—a fucking biscotti.

Bit him. Licked him. Keeping him forever.

I did not sign up for this shit. Only, yeah. I did.

I wanna gut punch the asshole who’s making us wait. Lilah needs the safety of our mate bond now. But oh fucking right. It’s me. I’m the asshole.

I’m quitting being leader, even temporarily.

He’s the softest of their unholy quad, but that’s like saying he’s the softest brick of concrete.

Lilah lets Orion take her hand so naturally, I kind of want to choke him instead.

She tilts her head, all cute baby bird and it feels like she just pecked my soul.

Fuck this book is going to make me piss my pants with these funny ass one liners.

Then I’m coughing, trying not to laugh into her hair. She leans over the wheel like a grandma with cataracts, squinting at the road, and at no point do we exceed a speed of nine. A confused squad of trainees jogs past, and Lilah brakes, even though they’re fully on the sidewalk.

“You don’t have to—” “You know how it is.” I kiss behind her ear. “I’m going to.”

Hunter and I need to— I don’t know. Probably move farther apart before he gets me pregnant through two layers of clothes and an implant?

I’m surprised I didn’t notice the Sorensens first. Dressed for a country club in nice slacks and collared shirts, they’re easy to pick out from the sea of mercenaries in black tees.

“Here they come,” Orion warns. “Is it too late to cancel?”

One word, one touch I don’t like, and he’ll stomp throats. My favorite kind of promise.

Max Wyvern is the jolly bearded dad-bod version of Hunter, who’s creepily obsessed with having grandkids.

Finn salutes with his blade, then uses the bloody knife to blow me a kiss. I am dying.

Because when you hurt and you hurt and you hurt, disappearing is better than feeling.

She’s terrified of the Wyverns, but she’s not even a little afraid of me. Gonna have fun fixing that attitude.

“Fuck her up.” I blink. “What if I go to prison?” “How?” Atlas softly strokes my ear, wearing a fond smile that doesn’t match his crazy talk. “Police will never find her body.”

Feels like I should get in trouble? Not that I’m going to apologize. Kinda want Renee to wake up so I can hit her a few more times.

“You do what the fuck you want, Star.” Finn drops next to Jett, not caring that his brother’s having a moment, just worming in so I’ll pet his head too.

“I can do anything?” I spot a kid in the front row with saucer eyes and a tray of nachos. Bet if I stole them, the guys would say I needed them more.

I’m only warm for her.

Feels like I should feel something when she stares with glazed, watery eyes. Nothing. That’s probably a problem too. I’ll ask Doctor Jakob. I pull the trigger.

Tomorrow, I’ll be brave enough to tell her everything. Tonight? Bourbon.