It’s the most adorable thing I have ever seen. Together with how eagerly he fell into my arms tonight, while whispering my name, it’s clear evidence that Fitz has a crush on me. It’s extremely flattering. I want to puff out my chest and preen. But it’s not as simple as that.
He is probably confused. I gave him his first heat, his first orgasm with a partner, his first experience of being filled and knotted. All those wonderful and good things are likely tangled up with me. Making him think that I am wonderful and good.
I could also be the first alpha he has known without killing. He clearly hasn’t spent enough time with Callum. He doesn’t realize yet how all alpha pheromones will make him feel a little swoony. How all alphas’ scents will make him feel happy and safe. He is like a baby duckling and he has imprinted on me.
I need to give him time to figure this all out by himself. And I definitely cannot take advantage of his infatuation while he has it. I need to pretend I don’t know, and do nothing to encourage it. It shouldn’t be too hard. I just need to remember that he is a hunter who nearly killed me.
Welcoming him into our pack and rehabilitating him and teaching him how to be a shifter is the right thing to do. We need to fix his inability to shift and I’m all for helping him with that. Despite everything he is and everything he has done, it is still the right thing to do. Shifters do right by their kind. We always have and always will. But sleeping with him? That is a step too far.
Tonight was an emergency. Functional. A means to an end. That is all it can ever be. My wolf whines. It is baffled by the idea of not accepting a beautiful and eager omega into my bed. I ignore my wolf. If it had its way, I’d be courting and claiming Fitz. Wolf-me really is soppy, as well as having a one track mind. It thinks the only important things in life are food, naps and sex.
“Are you going to accept Callum as your Alpha and join our pack?” I ask, mostly to distract myself.
Fitz gives me a solemn look before nodding decisively. The burst of happiness that flutters through my chest startles me with its intensity. But I can’t let this murderous omega get under my skin. I can’t.
Chapter thirteen
Thesunisshining,and Fitz looks adorable. My clothes really are far too big for him. The hoodie sleeves are rolled up, the sweatpants legs are rolled up. It’s all still baggy and loose. He is swamped in them and I love it.
No one in the pack is as tiny as him, but a lot of them are closer to his size than I am. I really should ask around for spare clothes that might fit him better and I probably shouldn’t have ripped his one tatty set off of him the first night he was here.
But it is what it is. Fitz doesn’t seem to mind. And I’d probably freak out if I saw him wandering around in the clothes he tried to murder me in. That thought sours my mood. Some part of me doesn’t want to be reminded that he is a hunter. Affiliated with the monsters who slaughtered my birth pack. Seems my horniness will ignore absolutely anything in order to get laid.
I’m distracted from my dark thoughts by Callum joining us on the grass outside the pack house. The last few stragglers are with him, so everyone is here now. Time for the ritual to begin.
Everyone forms a circle around Fitz. He looks around, the whites of his eyes showing. He is a fighter, I can understand being surrounded making him as nervous as hell. His gaze finds mine and I give him an encouraging nod. His shoulders relax and he takes a deep breath.
“I am Callum Waterford, Alpha of Waterford pack. I offer you my protection, do you offer your submission?”
Fitz nods, swallows visibly, closes his eyes and tilts his head back, baring his throat. I huff out a breath of relief. I hadn’t realized how tense I was. I’d been half expecting Fitz to spit in Callum’s face again.
Alpha steps forward and places his teeth on Fitz’s neck. Deep within me, my wolf snarls. I don’t like the sight at all. Especially when Fitz shudders. But the moment passes in a heartbeat. Callum steps back and Dave steps forward. I watch as Fitz stands as motionless as a statue with his fists tightly clenched by his side. He is hating this.
All the betas take their turn to accept his submission and give their protection. Then it is finally my turn. The ceremony beginning and ending with an alpha.
I step up to him. His eyes fly open but I can’t read his expression. I lower my head and as gently as I can and I place my teeth on the bare skin of his throat. I really don’t want to scare him into another heat. I can taste him and feel his pulse. His gorgeous scent washes over me and I breathe it in. It’s laced with my own and faint echoes of sex. It was only last night he was in my arms, allowing me the pleasure of his body. He whimpers softly and presses into my touch, his head dropping back even more. My arms encircle his back to hold him and he moans.
“Get a room!” someone laughs.
Someone else gives a loud wolf whistle.
I step back and stare into his eyes. He looks a little hazy and unfocused and there is color in his cheeks. His lips are parted. He is so fucking beautiful.
Callum places a hand on Fitz’s shoulder. “Welcome to the pack, Fitz Waterford.”
Fitz flashes me a quick grin. His emerald eyes sparkling. I’ve seen him smile so few times. It feels like a tragedy. But right now, I grin back. He is pack now, and that knowledge makes my heart race with excitement. Fitz is pack. Nothing has ever felt more right.
“Come on, the food is getting cold!” calls Sarah and everyone immediately starts heading inside and to the dining room. Wolves sure do like their food.
After our celebratory lunch, I take Fitz upstairs. He follows me with a curious look in his eyes, as well as a great deal of relief. He had been seated next to Alpha at the head of the table for the feast, and the poor omega did look overwhelmed. I guess wolf packs are a noisy, rough bunch if you are not used to it. And he should be used to it. He is a shifter. He shouldn’t have been with humans for any reason. Let alone hunters. The mere thought of it makes my skin crawl.
The cautious way he watched everyone else eat before tentatively picking up his own cutlery, damn near broke my heart. He used it awkwardly and then I had looked away before he caught me watching him. I have a horrible suspicion the hunters never let him use utensils. My throat tightens uncomfortably and I banish the thought away. It’s far too painful.
I open the door to his new room and usher him in. It’s tiny. Just enough space for a single bed and one storage box. Not that he has any belongings to store yet. As I look at the floral duvet cover I wince, all in all it’s a shabby offering. Until this morning the pack had been using this room for storage. Even the window is pathetic. Small and dingy.
“Umm… we have various pots of spare paint in the cupboard under the stairs, you can paint it if you like,” I offer. I’m not sure a lick of paint will do much but it’s better than nothing.
Fitz just stares at me in confusion.
