Just a sense. Nothing more.
"Whose rooms are these?" I ask, gesturing along the hallway.
"Mine," Thane says, pointing to the first door. "Plague's." He indicates another. "Whiskey's at the end, though you'd know that from the mess. And yours will be this one." He pauses at a door midway down the hall and pushes it open, revealing a spacious bedroom with an attached bath.
"And that end of the hallway?" I ask, nodding toward the section that caught my attention.
"Storage," Thane says quickly. "Nothing interesting."
"Just junk," Whiskey adds. "Old equipment, Christmas decorations, Plague's failed experiments?—"
"Those are prototypes, not failures," Plague interjects, his tone icy.
"And what about Wraith?" I ask.
Thane gives me a blank look. "What about him?"
I arch an eyebrow at him. "Can you blame me for wanting to know where he'll be sleeping tonight after what he did to my head?" I ask pointedly, even though it's the furthest thing from the truth. I'm not afraid of Wraith at all. What I really want is more information, especially considering he's the one who was there when I discovered Ivy.
"He's a feral alpha. He usually sleeps outside," says Whiskey. "Sometimes on the couch, too, though. So I wouldn't wander around at night."
"Point taken," I reply, stepping inside my assigned room and taking in the neutral decor. Comfortable, but impersonal. A guest room, not a permanent fixture in the pack house. Message received.
They watch me in silence.
"I appreciate the hospitality," I say, moving to the window and looking out. The view overlooks the woods surrounding the house and the distant mountains beyond. "Especially on such short notice."
"Management insisted," Thane says, his tone carefully neutral.
I turn back to face them, leaning casually against the windowsill. "Ah, yes, keeping the new asset happy. I understand."
Whiskey shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable with the implication that I hold any power in this situation. Plague remains still, those light blue eyes watching me with unsettling intensity. Seems they're always right next to each other, nearly touching but not quite. Perhaps they're not just playing up their sexual tension for the fans.
"We'll let you get settled," Thane says. "Bathroom's through there, towels are in the cabinet. Kitchen's open if you're hungry. We usually order in for dinner around seven."
"Perfect," I say again, flashing a smile. "And the house rules? I assume there are some areas that are off limits?"
Another quick exchange of glances between the three alphas. "Just the usual," Thane replies, meeting my gaze again. "Respect private spaces. Notify us before having guests over."
"And the third floor?" I ask innocently.
Thane's expression doesn't change, but the subtle spike in his scent is unmistakable. Anxiety. Protectiveness. "The attic?" he asks. "Just storage until you decide you've had enough of us and get your own place." He jerks his chin in the general direction of my new room. "This was our old storage room."
"Of course," I concede, inclining my head slightly. "I'll get out of your hair as soon as I stop seeing things every time I close my eyes."
Plague's gaze hardens slightly as he watches me, but Whiskey lets out a nervous chuckle. "Wraith really put a beating on you, huh?"
"I'd say we were evenly matched," I reply smoothly. "A coin toss."
The three alphas hover in the doorway a moment longer, clearly reluctant to leave me alone to explore. I decide to grant them a reprieve. After all, if my theories are correct, they're keeping a particularly important omega safe. I'm certain it isn't out of the goodness of their hearts—theyarealphas—but still.
"Speaking of that unfortunate incident in the maintenance tunnels, if you don't mind, I think I'll rest a bit." I tap the butterfly bandages on my forehead with a rueful smile. "Doctor's orders."
Relief flickers across Whiskey's face. Too obvious, this one. Wears his heart on his sleeve, and his mind, too. Plague remains more or less inscrutable, but Thane nods, stepping back.
"Of course. We'll be downstairs if you need anything." He pauses. "Rest well, Valek."
The door clicks shut, and I remain perfectly still, listening to their retreating footsteps. They pause at the top of the stairs, voices dropping to whispers too faint even for my alpha hearing to catch.
