"Perfect," Thane says with genuine enthusiasm. "The sketchier the convenience store, the better the snacks."
"Totally," I agree, already unbuckling my seatbelt.
Inside, everything smells vaguely of overcooked hot dogs and gasoline. Thane immediately makes a beeline for the chip aisle like a man on a mission. Everything this alpha does screams "pack leader." He needs to calm down before he gives himself a heart attack.
Maybe I can help him with that if my heat rears its head again on our trip. It's waned for the most part, but sharing a hotel room with these two alphas might change things. My body already responds instantly to Wraith every time he's near me, and theyarebrothers.
Both my scent matches, too, apparently.
"What's your poison?" Thane asks, grabbing multiple bags of Doritos. "Sweet or salty?"
"Both," I say, watching Wraith hover near the door like he's standing guard. Even in this shitty convenience store, he can'trelax, either. "Hey," I call to him softly. "Come help me pick drinks."
He moves toward me reluctantly, and I can feel the cashier's eyes tracking him. Not with recognition, thank fuck, but with wary attention. My heart sinks a little when I realize Wraith doesn't even seem to notice, like he's used to being gawked at.
"Sprite?" I suggest, holding up a bottle.
He nods, then surprises me by grabbing a Mountain Dew Code Red.
"Really?" I can't hide my amusement.
He shrugs. There's something endearing about this intense, giant alpha having a secret weakness for artificially colored, hyper-caffeinated sugar water.
Thane appears with a rainbow of junk food in his arms. "Got the essentials. A shitload of drinks, Doritos, beef jerky, those weird pink coconut things that taste like sugar-coated erasers, candy…"
"We definitely won't starve," I say, already eyeing the jerky. Seems like we have a favorite flavor in common. Sweet habanero. My mouth is already watering.
The cashier, a lanky teenager with more piercings than face, rings us up without comment, though his eyes keep darting to Wraith like he's going to eat him instead of the snacks. We pile back into the SUV with our haul, and as Thane and I are rehydrating, I notice Wraith doesn't open his drink.
"Aren't you going to drink that before we get on the road?" I ask, concerned.
He pauses, then grabs it again and gestures toward the back of the convenience store. Before I get the chance to ask what he's doing, he's out of the SUV and disappearing around the corner of the building.
"He won't lower his mask in front of anyone," Thane explains awkwardly from the back seat, like he isn't sure he should be telling me that.
"Yeah, I figured," I murmur. "He's pretty shy, huh?"
"Yeah. You could say that," he says with a short, humorless laugh. He glances back toward where Wraith disappeared to, then his eyes flick back to me again like he's weighing if he should tell me something.
Wraith returns before he can make up his mind. The bottle is half empty and there's a drop of moisture on the edge of his mask he quickly wipes away.
Sorry,he signs.
"Don't be," I reassure him.
Two hours into the more or less silent drive, save for the classic rock music I put on, my phone buzzes with a group chat notification. I'm curled in the passenger seat, half-dozing to the rhythmic hum of tires on asphalt while Wraith drives with his usual intense focus.
WHISKEY
YOOOO. You're not gonna believe this shit.
I sit up straighter, suddenly alert. Wraith glances at me, concern flickering in his blue eyes above the mask.
WHISKEY
Valek just announced he's gotta jet to Canada. Some emergency or whatever. Packed up and left like his ass was on fire
"What the fuck?" I mutter, showing the screen to Wraith. He can't respond while driving, but his grip on the steering wheel tightens.
