But the pack was a riot of rain and vanilla, of cedar and leather. It was a mess of emotions and complications and three alphas who somehow wanted me despite all my sharp edges and poverty and complete lack of pedigree.
It was messy.
But it was my mess.
I stood up, shaking out the blanket. Crumbs fell onto the grass.
"We can go back now," I said, my voice steady for the first time all day. "I think I've had enough space."
Fritz's smile was brilliant. "About time."
Maeve stood, wrapping her arms around herself. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
She pulled me into a hug, fierce and tight. "If any of them hurt you, you call me. I'll kill them myself."
"Iknow you will."
"Good." She pulled back, her hands on my shoulders. "Now go. Before I change my mind about liking the German one."
Fritz chuckled as he walked away.
I laughed, kissed her cheek, and headed inside the caravan to give Mr. Cheddar a cuddle. It was a waste of time throwing him out, he had a way into the caravan I didn’t know about.
“See you soon.” I stared at Maeve and then at Fritz heading for the helicopter.
“I’ll visit.”
“You will?”
“Yes. Now go.”
I ran to the helicopter, looking back once. Seeing Mr. Cheddar watching from the window, his tail flicking once before he settled back into his nap. I raised my hand to Maeve.
“Apparently the bad weather is moving in from the west, we need to leave.” Fritz held his hand out to me.
And as the blades started up and we lifted into the darkening sky, I pulled out my phone and typed out a reply to Hastings.
I'll be home soon. And yes, I'm going to bite you back. Fair warning. — P.
The response came back almost immediately.
I'm counting on it. — H.
25
Etienne
I spent eighty minutesthrowing my body into other men, seeking the kind of pain that would dull the roar in my head.
I'd taken hits that should have cracked ribs. Delivered tackles that left my shoulders screaming. Been at the bottom of a ruck where boots scraped across my back and elbows drove into my kidneys. I'd welcomed every bit of it. The way the grass stained my knees and the cold muck filled my mouth. It was honest. Unlike the air in the townhouse.
Usually, the physical exhaustion was enough to silence the alpha. Usually, the burn in my lungs replaced the burn in my soul.
It hadn't worked.
I couldn’t go back to the townhouse last night, staying in a hotel. But now the drive back was worse. Forty-five minutes of silence in the back of a car, watching the countryside blur past, knowing that with every mile I wasgetting closer to her. And the reality I'd been trying to outrun on the pitch.
