With a smile I can’t shake, I head to the bathroom to get ready for the day. I wash my face, brush my teeth, pull on a navy wrap dress, then braid my hair and go downstairs to explore my new home.
Not yet six, the house is quiet. I follow a faint sound down a curved marble staircase, through a gray stone entryway, and into an all-white, ultramodern stainless-steel kitchen.
A blonde woman in a knee-length black skirt and a white shirt is pouring coffee beans into a big stainless steel coffee machine. She looks up as I enter the kitchen.
“Juniper?” she says with a friendly smile.
“Yes.”
“I’m Veronica, Pack Wells’ housekeeper. I was going to bring you a tray a little later. Are you hungry for breakfast now?”
I shake my head. “I’m an early riser. Is anyone else up yet?”
“The alphas will be a little while yet. I’m not used to seeing anyone up at six.”
I drift toward her, wanting to ask about what it’s like being their housekeeper. And about how they became a pack and where the name came from. What little I know about them comes from my friends at the academy or my parents.
But more than getting answers to questions, I want to bake. “Do you mind if I bake something?” I ask. “I know I just got here, and I don’t want to take over your kitchen, but?—”
“This is your home now,” she says with a warm smile. “This kitchen is more yours than mine.”
I grin at her. “I figured it would be nice to make something for breakfast, not that I eat cake for breakfast all the time, but today feels special.”
She walks to a closed white door and pushes it open to reveal a fully stocked pantry. “You’ll find everything you need here. Cake pans are here.” She opens a cupboard, and my eyes widen at all the silver loaf pans and cake tins. This kitchen is literally a baker’s dream. “I could set up the table in the backyard. Maybe you could have breakfast with your alphas out there?”
“That sounds perfect, thank you, Veronica.”
“I’m here to make your life as easy as I can, Juniper.”
“June,” I correct her. “Please call me June.”
Baking is even more fun when I’m doing it for my scent matches.
I decide to make a lemon and blueberry pound cake with a lemon glaze. I’m not sure where my cookbooks are—a collection I built up over the years—but it’s a favorite I’ve made so often that I don’t need a recipe.
It’s almost seven, and sunlight streams into the kitchen through the large windows above the sink as I finish glazing the cake. In the beautiful backyard, through a glass door in the entryway, Veronica lays out a white tablecloth on a wooden table, along with antique silverware, a tea set, coffee, and glasses of fresh orange juice.
As I'm admiring the table, a male voice speaks from behind me.
“Juniper Harrington?”
I whirl around.
I take in the dark-haired man who appears to be in his late fifties or sixties, in a navy pantsuit and white shirt, with blue-gray eyes, and I struggle to remember where I’ve seen him before.
“You were at the ball,” I say slowly. “You had a son you wanted me to dance with.”
“And here you are, bypassing the dance and moving right in.” He approaches with a wide smile, taking a seat at the table set for four, though I don’t want him to. This breakfast was supposed to be just for me, Callum, Torin, and Archer.
He continues, “I’m William Rush, Callum’s father. You’re really quite beautiful.” His eyes, a slightly darker shade of gray than Callum’s, sweep over me. “Elegant. Docile. Obedient. I couldn’t have picked a more perfect omega for him.”
My lips flatten. He makes me sound like a well-trained poodle, and he didn’t pick me at all.
He throws his head back, his laughter far too loud at something that doesn’t seem all that funny to me. “I’ve made you uncomfortable. I meant no offense. Please sit.” He gestures toward the chair next to him. “We’ll chat for a bit while we wait for your mates to join us.”
Curious about Callum’s dad, and the reason Callum didn’t tell me his last name was Rush, I sink into a seat at the table.
His expression is warm and open, and I think I see a bit of Callum in him when he relaxes into his seat. “How do you like the house?”
