I resist the urge to squeeze my eyes shut.
Breathe him in, Mona. Scent him.
Beep's right.
I'm always right.
I swallow my annoyance and do as she says. I follow his scent before I let myself look.
Mate, my omega whispers.
From the first moment the word bellowed inside of me, even as I laid there in the hospital, beaten and bloody, something ancient andknowingunfurled between my ribs, painting my insides with this sense of belonging.
The voices stop.
Orion and Grayson. Chocolate hazelnut. Warm cinnamon bun baked over a crackling fire. Their scents make me weak in the knees. It washes over me. The desire I felt upstairs grows stronger now.
I crack one eye open. Then the other.
My throat feels dry. This is just like the night I met Silas. His forest green eyes, his calming scent.
A lie.
Not a lie, remember? Go north, my brother will take care of you, that's what he said.
Why did he—
He sent you to your mates, Beep interrupts.To protect you.
He killed my father, I snarl back.He tried to kill me.
She doesn't reply at first. And then,No, he didn't.
Her words stun me, so I'm grateful for the distraction as Orion steps closer first. "How did you sleep?"
"Umm… good. Thank you. For the food, and the bed, and… everything."
"I told you, you're welcome here. I hope you'll give us a chance. I know the last few days have been hard."
Grayson still hasn't said anything, but he holds his fists tight by his sides and growls, the sound low, but I feel it in my belly. Orion shoots him a glare, but then turns back to me, all gentle kindness.
I focus on Orion. "Is there, umm… Would it be too much trouble to ask if there's something to eat?"
Orion's eyes brighten, and he smiles with his whole face. "I'd be honored to feed my mate." I don't think he meant to say that—the word makes him pause, but he shakes it off and puts a hand on my shoulder, guiding me to the fridge. "What's ours is yours, always. Please help yourself anytime. And the cafeteria serves community meals twice a day, dinner on the weekendsand holidays. I'll get into all that later. For now, what are you in the mood for?"
He rummages around in the fridge, offering different meats and soups, and breads. Before I can protest, his arms are full. He's still talking, carrying everything over to the counter.
He is so fucking gorgeous it steals my breath away. His messy hair and beard, a rich honey, frame a sandy complexion, with fine lines creasing the corners of his blue eyes when he smiles. But there's a hidden intensity to him, restrained power. The way his wolf paces, flashing periodically, while the man's face remains gentle, makes me think his calm is a ruse.
His voice is husky. He smiles affectionately and begins making sandwiches and reheating soup. I almost tell him I can't eat all that, but then he pulls out three bowls, and my shoulders relax.
I can feel Grayson watching me. He's been quiet, and I've avoided looking directly at him. But after Orion runs out of things to say about the contents of their fridge, he sets the table, pretending not to watch the two of us. Waiting to see who will break first.
If I'll lose it again and start screaming.
Beep is on the verge of reminding me he isn't Silas. But the truth is, I can feel the difference. Smell it, sense it. I know it, down to my bones.
So I force myself to turn and look directly at him. Grayson arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips.
