“I think Alabaster Security is trying to find them, but our old headmaster didn’t really leave paper trails, I don’t think.” Her thin shoulders go up and down once.
One look at Redd, and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing I am: neither of us can imagine Dulcie being sold off to some ruthless, evil pack that would probably mistreat her and use her as a broodmare. A pack that wouldn’t give a shit about her as a person. The thought is unimaginable and downright awful.
I decide to change the subject, bringing it back to her: “You like candy.”
“What?” She blinks at me.
A smile tugs at Redd’s mouth as he nods along. “That’s right. You left a huge bowl of those heart-shaped candies at the mixer. That must’ve been some sweet tooth.” You’d have to be deaf to miss the warmth in his tone; in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say anything with a tone like that. She’s already bringing out a new side of him, just as she’ll probably bring out new sides in all of us.
She blushes and looks away. “We never get candy here, so… yeah, I went a little overboard.”
Monroe suddenly declares, “We can get you whatever candy you want.” And we would. We might not be made of money—our jobs might not be too glamorous—but we would do anything and everything for this omega, if she’ll let us.
Dulcie bites her bottom lip in a gesture that is ridiculously tempting. “I’d like that.”
Just like that, whatever awkwardness or walls that might’ve been standing before crumble. We ask her more questions about herself. She tells us about her time here, about her best friend who just moved out to be with a pack, and how things have already gotten too quiet around the academy.
She asks us about our life together, how long we’ve been in a pack. We tell her everything. We don’t hold back. We tell her how we met, how Monroe took us under his wing and kept an eye on us even after he graduated, how Redd and I promised each other we’d be in the same pack once we got older. It was hard once we went to separate schools, but we made it work.
Sometimes, when things are meant to be, they’re meant to be. Kind of like this. Like us. First impressions between Redd and Dulcie might not have been the greatest, but with how easy it feels to be together, none of us can deny how right it is. Fate had a hand in bringing us together, and now that we were in each other’s lives, there was no way in hell any of us would let her slip through our fingers.
We’re there for hours. The early afternoon sun moves past the height of the building, casting us in shadows and immediately cooling the surrounding air. We talk well past dinnertime, and it’s like none of us even care we missed a meal. Me, Redd, Monroe, even Dulcie; we’re in the moment, we’re learning each other, and we don’t want it to end.
It’s only when night falls that we’re approached by Delilah. “Hate to break this up, but it’s time you three left so Dulcie can eat something. I’m sure you three are hungry, too. Wrap it up, please.” With that, she walks away, though she stops by Warren near the door to say something to him.
Monroe appears perturbed, like he hadn’t thought of the night ending. Redd, on the other hand, scoots closer to Dulcie.He’s cautious in his next movements, but she doesn’t pull back—a good sign. He sets his hand on hers and says, “Today was nice.”
She blushes for the countless time and has to look away before she admits aloud, “It was.”
“I don’t want to go,” he adds in a whisper.
Dulcie flicks her brown gaze to each of us, letting that gaze linger before moving to the next. “I don’t want you guys to go, either.”
Matches have been made in less time. When you know, you know, and I think I knew it in my heart the moment I heard Redd talk of his scent match: she’s meant to be ours. She’s our missing piece. This omega is our mate, and it’s going to hurt us to leave her here tonight.
This time, it’s Monroe who scoots closer to her. He leans his hand just behind her back, leaning his top half over her as he lowers his face to her bare neck and breathes her in. He murmurs, “We want you to be ours, Dulcie. We want you to be our omega.”
Redd’s hand squeezes hers as he says, “Leaving you here is going to be like leaving a piece of us behind.”
I’m not as suave as Monroe, and I’m clearly just as lost in her as Redd, because I blurt out the question before either of the alphas can do it themselves: “Will you be ours?” When the question slips out of me, both Redd and Monroe shoot me a fast glare. I bet they both wanted to ask her that themselves. Oops.
When they look back to Dulcie, their expressions soften, and together we wait to hear her answer.
For a moment, just a quick, fleeting moment, I wonder if she’s going to say no, if she’s going to deny us. I truly couldn’t blame her if she did; Redd walking away from her at the mixer could have cut her deeply.
But then that moment passes, and I have confidence in the connection between this omega and us. Some things you justknow, and in my heart of hearts I know this omega belongs to us. No one else could ever compare.
She says yes, only she doesn’t. What Dulcie ends up saying is, “If you’re sure you want me.” And when she says it, I hate how cautious she is, how unsure, like she’s afraid she’s going to be hurt.
Like we’re going to hurt her again.
“We are,” I tell her, meaning it.
“We are more than sure,” Monroe whispers.
And Redd? Redd only has eyes for her. He says, his voice so soft I can barely hear him, “You’re my scent match. A day won’t go by that I don’t prove to you that I’m worthy of you. You’re ours, and we’re yours.”
Such declarations were probably typically saved for a more private occasion, for when things weren’t so new and awkward—but I never understood those who wished to wait before stating stuff like that. If you know, you know. What use is there in waiting? Why waste time when time is never guaranteed?
