I glance between him and Harlan, realizing they took my squeak as a distress signal.
“Oh no, this is Harlan. He’s a friend. Rose’s dominant alpha,” I say, gesturing to the table where my friends are unabashedly staring.
Rafe chuckles. Gage rolls his eyes.
“We were wondering why a table full of bonded omegas was staring at us,” Zeke says. “These are the friends you mentioned?”
“Yes. Harlan is also the owner of this restaurant. I didn’t think you waited tables,” I say, forcing a smile up at him.
“It’s been a while. I think I can remember,” he says.
“And if he can’t, I can manage,” a deep voice adds as Cole steps to the table.
I sigh and hang my head. “This is Cole. Sunny’s dominant alpha.” Sunny gives a bright, fake little wave from her table. “He’s also the owner of the hotel.”
Rafe leans toward Eli to stage-whisper, “Does this place seem a little incestuous to you?”
Eli, in the first display of communication he’s made all night, nods.
“Forgive us if we don’t want to leave Winnie alone with a pack that can’t even control its own members,” Harlan growls.
Zeke flinches. So does Gage. Rafe closes his eyes like he’s appeased. Eli only watches me. His gaze seems to connect directly to that lonely mating bond, and his fingers twitch as if he’s stopping himself from reaching out.
“Harlan,” I say, and his gaze reluctantly meets mine. “I appreciate it, but can you give us some space, please?”
He looks to Rose, clearly letting her decide. She nods. So does Sunny. The alphas step back; the omegas return their attention to their meals. They’re absolutely still listening. Busy bodies.
“Those are some nice friends you have,” Zeke says.
“The best. I’m sorry they’ve been so… aggressive.”
A taut silence stretches. I almost pick up my menu to see what’savailable when Gage speaks.
“What do you want to do, Winnie?”
My eyes meet his. There’s nothing but intensity and a banked fire. It’s clear hecouldbe the dominant alpha. He almost reaches that peak. But neither his scent, jasmine and smoke, nor the look in his eyes reads truly dominant. His mouth is a hard line. He seems more resigned than in charge.
“Do?” I echo, not quite understanding.
“About the bond. Your friends made it clear that they think that we’re dangerous alphas who can’t be trusted. But we also can’t leave. We could avoid each other in town until you both learn to block the bond subconsciously. I’m sure there’s something we could find to do in a town with one coffee shop, one restaurant, and not even a movie theater.”
I scowl at his description of my home.
“The other option is to stay and work on courting. Which, to be frank, doesn’t look like a great idea.” He exhales. “You’re our scent-sensitive match. Our mate. That’s clear—but we’re—”
“Gage,” Zeke growls, probably feeling my rising annoyance through the bond.
“—different,” Gage finishes. “Our pack rides rough. At the club, when you got bit, we had a gig. That’s why we were there.”
“A gig? Like… you sing?” I ask, hesitant.
Rafe chokes on a sip of amber liquid, laughing, and even Eli gives a low chuckle.
“Does that look like the face of an alpha who gets on stage?” Rafe asks, gesturing to Eli’s skull mask.
A hand tentatively wraps around my knee under the table as Zeke leans in. “We tattoo, Blossom,” he says, winking before inhaling my lilac-and-rose scent.
I must look confused because Gage clarifies. “We’re a traveling tattoo group. Pop-ups all over the state. Parties, clubs, whatever. Last night we were there to work the club you were at.”
