“I have to change,” she says, gesturing down at herself, bare legs on full display. “I need to prepare for tomorrow, remember work? The final qualifiers? You,” she makes a ridiculous gesture with her hands, mimicking a lasso motion, “bull…? And I can’t exactly show up to work in only a T-shirt, as hilarious as that might be.”
She’s trying to sound light, teasing even, but I can feel the edge of anxiety creeping into her scent. The buttercup sweetness going slightly sharp, slightly acrid—like flowers left too long in stagnant water. There’s a tightness around her eyes, a brittleness to her laugh that makes my chest ache.
My Alpha stirs, uneasy. Something’s wrong. Our Omega needs us.
“Hey,” Jake says gently, stepping closer. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“Nothing.” She waves him off, but her scent tells a different story. “Just… tomorrow’s a big deal. The final qualifiers. I need to have my head on straight.”
“Your head is always on straight,” Charlie says, scooping up Buttercup before the little menace can trip anyone. “You’re the most put-together person I know.”
“That’s a low bar considering present company,” she shoots back, but there’s no real bite to it.
“Ouch.” Charlie presses a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’m a delight.”
“You’re a disaster with good hair,” Jake corrects.
“Hey, my organizational system is?—”
“Chaos incarnate?” I offer.
Willa laughs—a real one this time—and some of that sharp edge in her scent softens.
“Come on,” I say, jerking my head toward the stairs. “Go get dressed, and we’ll drive you home. You can prep everything you need before we leave for Denver. Get some sleep, and we’ll see you bright and early.”
“Bright is debatable at five-thirty a.m.,” she mutters, but she’s already moving toward the stairs.
Ten minutes later, we all pile into Charlie’s Land Rover for the drive over to Willa’s. Jake and I both head for the back seat at the same time, wanting to claim a spot next to Willa.
“Shotgun, Jake,” Charlie calls out cheerfully. Trying to keep things orderly.
“Fuck that,” Jake says immediately, giving me a pointed look.
“Yeah, not happening,” I agree.
Charlie just grins at us in that infuriating way of his. “Didn’t think so.”
Willa slides into the back seat first, settling in the middle, and immediately comments on the tight fit. “Good grief, how are two massive Alphas even supposed to fit back here? This is ridiculous.”
“We’ll make it work,” Jake says, wedging himself in on one side.
“Cozy,” I add, climbing in on her other side. The space is tight—our shoulders pressed together, her thigh warm against mine. I can feel every breath she takes, every slight shift of her body.
Before she can say anything else, I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her close.With her soft body pressed against me, without conscious thought, without planning, I start to purr.
Low and steady, the sound rumbling up from my chest like distant thunder. It’s pure instinct—my Alpha trying to soothe our Omega, trying to calm the anxiety I can feel building in her like a storm gathering strength.
She goes still for half a second, and then melts into me. Just completely relaxes, her body seeking the comfort my purr offers like a flower turning toward the sun.
Her head finds the curve of my shoulder, her hand splays across my chest, and she cuddles into my side with a soft, contented sigh that makes something possessive and tender twist in my chest.
“That’s nice,” she murmurs softly, tentatively. Almost shyly. “I had no idea Alphas could… I’ve never felt it before.”
The admission hits me like a fastball to the chest. She’s never had an Alpha purr for her? Never had anyone try to comfort her Omega this way? Not even Jake?
I glance up and catch Jake’s expression—pure envy written across his face as he watches her snuggled against me. In the rearview mirror, Charlie’s eyes flick back to us, and I can see the same longing there, the same wish that he could be the one holding her.
“Get used to it, love,” I say, keeping my voice low so it doesn’t disturb the purr. “This is what you get now.”
