My alpha recognizes the vulnerability. The trust. The way she lets herself be seen in the one place she could’ve stayed guarded.
I’m falling.
God help me, I’m falling.
She signs something to Lincoln—quick, light—and he signs back, slower, focusing hard. His scent softens, threaded withpride and quiet determination. Milton grabs her phone and types something dramatic that makes her laugh again.
And I just stand there watching her smile in the home I share with my brothers, drowning in a mingled cloud of sandalwood, grapefruit, peach, and mint, with her wearing one of my hoodies, looking like she belongs here more than any of us ever have.
Lincoln gestures to the couch. “You eating with us? We’re doing breakfast for dinner.”
I grunt something noncommittal and walk in, dropping into the recliner. My heart is pounding as if I sprinted here. My alpha stays on high alert, tracking every micro-shift in her body—every laugh, every little exhale.
Bayleigh glances over at me again, and her eyes linger just a second too long.
And that one second tells me everything I’ve been denying.
I want her.
I want them with her.
I want this whole impossible, insane pack we’re building around an omega who has no idea how much of a hold she has on us.
And God help me…
I want to deserve it.
36
Bayleigh
It’s beentwo days since I left home after Benton’s outburst.
I should have returned home by now, but I don’t want to. Benton’s been blowing up my phone. But I refuse to respond to him. I’ve left his messages on read. The guys must have sensed my feelings, and they offered for me to stay as long as I wanted. Even gave me their guestroom to stay in. I messaged my mom, letting her know where I was, and she brought me some clothes, toiletries, and my laptop.
She never pressured me to come home, just made sure I was safe.
The guys have all been sweet, attentive, caring, and kind. At first, I only spoke in small pieces, a word here, a sentence there, bracing myself every time I used my voice. Not once have they laughed at me, or snickered at how my voice sounds. For once, I don’t feel ashamed to use it. I even told them about my implant. How I can make out certain tones, but not enough to truly hear. Then I shared how it’s failing, that soon even the small sounds I do hear, will be completely gone, and there’ll be nothing but bone chilling-silence. They held me while I cried about the lossof even the little bit of sound I experience and reassured me that . . .
Their home has somehow already become my sanctuary, gently tucked away from the world. I still go online and do my PR work for the Krakens. Luckily, I have enough footage that I don’t need to go to the rink, so I’m spared from that. For the time being anyway.
A small piece of brightness in the dark.
Lincoln makes me coffee every morning. I’ve even helped him perfect some of his signs so he’s able to understand me a little better—though honestly, the improvement is all his. Watching how fast he’s moved through his ASL classes, how hard he works at it, still catches me off guard in the best way.
Milton’s taught me a dice game. Once I got the gist of it, he started purposely losing. When I called him out on it, he told me it’s because he wants to see me smile. Korbin pretends to be uninterested, but I catch him watching my interactions with the both of them out of the corner of my eye.
I’ve used my voice more than I ever have. Not the entire time, but when writing everything becomes too much. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to start making fun of my speech. But they don’t. I even see a twinkle of excitement in their eyes when I do use my voice. Like Benton used to get when I’d speak, but it’s different, too. Warmer.
They even encourage me to talk when I shy away from it. It’s refreshing to finally have someone other than my parents and brother wanting that. There’s no pity, or wincing when I talk like others have done in the past.
When Milton and Korbin go to practice, they message when they can in the group chat that Korbin is now part of. Lincoln comes back to the house on his lunch break, always bringing me something to eat. It’s almost as if we’re a pack. Just without being bonded.
I love it.
It’s a warm, familiar, comforting feeling I never expected to experience. Especially after Joseph rejected me. All because I wasn’t good enough in his eyes. I wasn’t a perfect omega. Nor would I ever be.
I’m in the kitchen cooking dinner when I feel someone’s arms slip around my waist, and I let out a startled scream. I’m quickly turned around and come face to face with Lincoln.
