Across the room, Forsythe’s brows crunch together in confusion, and I make myself look away from him, up to the quiet, broken hearted beta in front of me. I want to make this better for him, I want to somehow help them come together as a pack, a real pack. One where Piers is valued and seen, one where ‘duty’isn’ttheir first answer to every freaking question.
“What other questions did they ask?” I change the subject, wanting to distract him. To give him something else to think about.
“Flirting style?”
I snap my fingers together. “Right. What’s your flirting style?”
A rueful smile curls his lips and it makes that tight clench in my chest loosen. “Non-existent.”
“Liar.” I laugh, tossing my head back, while his grin grows. “You just said that to match mine.”
“It's true. I don’t know how to flirt. If I try it just… god, it's so awkward.”
“You’re doing alright with me, Piers.”
“This isn’t me flirting. This is me just… trying to keep up with you, sunshine. I swear.”
Warm, smooth fabric meets the tips of my fingers as I pat his chest, and then… leave my hand there, because it feelsso good to touch him. Omegas crave physical affection—hugs, cuddles, hands on shoulders, leaning into someone’s warmth—and I’ve definitely not been getting enough of that since coming here. Or before that even.
Haven hugs the crap out of me every chance she gets, but it's not the same as it is with a male, with someone you're attracted to.
But beyond that this isPiersand something sings in my blood when we’re close like this.
He leans a little closer, pressing into my palm as his expression gets a little more intense. “You wanna know what my favorite scent is, Ren?”
Suddenly dry mouthed, I nod. “Yeah.” Even though I don’t know that I do. The alphas of the Ashbourne pack… they don’t know it but they got very close to describing my scent. Not specifically, but in general terms. Hibiscus and citrus would fit for every one of their favorites.
Piers’ hand comes up and he runs a knuckle down my cheek. “Hibiscus tea with lemon. My mum used to make it for me. It… reminds me of home. Like you said.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t swallow. I can’t do anything but stare up at him. Does he know? Has he scented me? Is this some kind of weird coincidence? I sway closer to him, and he does the same to me.
His lips brush against my ear. “Do you know of anyone who smells like that, little bird? Bright and sweet. Tart and floral?” He nips at the flesh warmed by his breath and I shiver, in the best possible way.
I swallow, wanting to press closer to him, and just barely managing not to. “I…I… Jesus, Piers. I think you melted my brain.”
A low,filthylaugh gusts against my temple as he pulls back enough to look down at me. “Welcome to the club, sunshine. I’ve been walking around with mush for brains since I first saw you.”
“Non-existent, hmm? What kind of bullshit answer was that?” Because he knows exactly what he’s doing, even if this isn’t really flirting, it still… kind of feels like it is.
“I think we still have a few more questions to cover.”
I blink. Right. Because… I wanted to get his answers for the compatibility quiz. My fuzzy brain tries to focus on what there is left… Beyond the one that I’m not honestly sure I want to know the answer to…
“What-Um… what… oh! What matters most in a pack?” I rush out, glad that I remembered, and then wondering how I could forget, because both of my answers matched a pack member: Safety and trust.
“Being seen,” Piers says, watching my expression. “Not just looked at but understood. That’s what the bonds do. Let your pack see your shadows and dark places, and knowing they’ll still choose you.”
He’s trying to kill me, isn’t he? Trying to melt me into a puddle of Florence colored goo. And yet, I still can’t help the spike of hurt that his answer brings. Because I want that. So badly. I’vealwayswanted that.
And I know I’m just as far from having that as when I first got here. The Ashbourne pack is not mine, and never will be.
That doesn’t stop me from saying, softly, “I see you.”
His smile is a soft, sweet thing as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with one hand, while the other presses my palm tighter to his chest. “I know.” His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as his gaze roams over my face.
We stand like that for a long time… long enough that the sounds of the room start to filter back to me. The derisive gigglesof the omegas. The disapproving mutters of the crew. And still we don’t look away from each other.
“Ask me,” Piers urges, grip tightening. “Please, little bird.”
