"Me?" Killian points at himself incredulously.
"Wait," Rowan says, leaning forward. "You thoughtKillianwasn't but I am?"
He sounds devastated.
I tune out the playful argument and go to get Regina some normal orange juice, sans protein powder. Eventually, the power of bacon settles things down.
Conversation flows easily as we eat. Sean recounts a story from last semester involving a misguided attempt to prank the campus security office with glitter—he was coughing the shit up for a week, and claims it was just two days—and Killian starts divvying up chores just in case the Dean decides to send his favorite right-hand nymph to check on us before we can hand in our pack registration.
"So what do you need me to do?" Regina asks, setting down her fork after putting away an impressive amount of bacon for someone her size. I didn't think it was possible, but I'm even more in love with her now. "For the registration, I mean."
Sean waves a dismissive hand, nearly taking out the orange juice carton. "Nothing. Just be here and look gorgeous." He pauses, fork halfway to his mouth. "Oh, and if a greenish nymph shows up asking if anyone knows who egged the Dean's Mercedes last month, the answer is absolutely not."
Regina blinks. "I wouldn't have known anything about that before," she says slowly, "but now I'm pretty sure I do."
"You know nothing," Sean says, pointing his bacon at her like a weapon. "You're an innocent witch who just bonded with us yesterday. You weren't even here when the alleged egging occurred."
"Alleged," Rowan mutters, shaking his head.
"It was Killian's idea," Sean adds, throwing our alpha under the bus without a shred of remorse.
"It was not my idea," Killian growls. "I said we should put a rotten fish under his seat.Youwere the one who wanted eggs."
"Because eggs are funnier! Rotten fish just stink. And he would've known the moment he opened the fuckin' door."
"And property damage isn't?"
"It'scomedicproperty damage. There's a distinction."
Regina looks between them like she's watching the most stupidly absurd tennis match in the world. I grin at the amusement and horror I feel through our bond. She's genuinely trying to figure out how she ended up bonded to four grown alpha wolves who think egging the Dean's car is an appropriate response to... whatever we were responding to.
I honestly can't remember at this point.
"Alright," Killian finally says, pushing back from the table. "I've got a class in ten minutes. Can't miss it again or Professor Styles is going to have my ass."
"Again?" Regina raises an eyebrow.
"I may have missed a few sessions while we were dealing with the whole mate-finding situation," he admits.
"A few meaning six," Sean supplies helpfully.
"Shut up, Sean."
Killian crosses to Regina, and there's something almost awkward in the way he approaches her. Like he's still not quite sure what the protocol is for leaving his newly bonded mate for something as mundane as a lecture.
And fuck, neither am I.
His hand finds the back of her neck, thumb brushing over the mating marks that are still fresh against her skin.
"I'll be back soon," he says, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips that starts gentle but lingers just a beat longer than strictly necessary. When he pulls back, his eyes are that electric blue that means his wolf is close to the surface.
"Go to class," Regina murmurs against his mouth. "I'll still be here when you get back."
My wolf purrs.
She'll still be here.
She's ours now, and she hasn't changed her mind and taken off.
