Forty-Five
IVY
My internal clock is still completely fucked.
I wake in the pre-dawn darkness, my body humming with that restless energy that comes from months of living like a nocturnal creature. The hotel room is quiet except for the deep, rhythmic breathing of two alphas who've apparently claimed me as their omega, at least on a temporary basis.
Whiskey sprawls across his side of the bed like a felled redwood, or maybe a hibernating grizzly bear, one massive arm thrown over his face, snoring softly. Plague lies on his back, arms folded over his chest like he's practicing for his own funeral.
Even in sleep, the man can't relax.
Then reality crashes down like a bucket of ice water.
Oh god. What did I just fucking do?
My chest constricts as the full weight of last night settles over me. I let them knot me. Both of them. Two alphas I barely know, and I just?—
The panic rises sharp and cold, crawling up my throat.
Then my phone blinks on the nightstand. A text notification from a few minutes ago, just for me. No group chat this time.
WRAITH
hi
you ok?
My breath steadies. The urge to bolt doesn't disappear entirely. It probably never will. But it recedes enough that I can think past the blind animal terror.
Wraith is good.
Wraith is safe.
I know this without a shadow of doubt. And the two alphas that fucked my brains out last night are part of Wraith's pack.
A package deal.
None of what happened last night has to mean anything right now. I made it clear it doesn’t, and Whiskey and Plague both accepted it. It was fun and safe and I havezeroregrets.
I type a response back to Wraith, not wanting him to worry. He's been checking on me every few hours since we left the pack house, his concern obvious through even the briefest texts. I can tell he's trying not to come off as too intense and clingy, even though I don't actually mind it from him at all.
IVY
I'm fine. Just woke up. Can't sleep past 5 AM anymore haha.
Three little dots appear to show he's typing, then they stop. Then they start again. Then they stop. After several minutes of apparently wrestling with what to say, he finally hits send.
WRAITH
The mental image of the hulking alpha being shy and worrying about what to reply makes me snort a laugh that's almost loud enough to wake the sleeping alphas beside me. I manage to stifle it in my palm.
Better help him out a little.
IVY
How did you sleep?
WRAITH
