My omega is having a full-scale meltdown.
ALPHAS,it screams in my head.FOUR OF THEM. ALL OF THEM. RIGHT HERE. YES PLEASE THANK YOU.
I mentally tell it to shut up with extreme prejudice.
"Just my dignity," I manage. "And possibly my bank account. And my faith in modern plumbing."
"You look like you're about to pass out." Pedro's gruff voice cuts through my internal chaos. He's moved from the kitchen doorway to stand a few feet away, his pine and mint scentmingles with Nacho's dark sugar, and the combination makes my head spin. "When's the last time you ate?"
I try to remember. The brownies feel like a lifetime ago. A different lifetime. Before the flood and the kiss and the decision to move into a house with four alphas who apparently all smell like heaven had a cologne sale.
"I had chocolate," I say.
"That's not food."
"It has cocoa beans. Cocoa beans are a legume. Legumes are vegetables. Vegetables are food. Therefore, chocolate is food. Logic."
"That's not how nutrition works," Pedro says flatly.
"It's howmynutrition works. My body, my rules, my questionable dietary choices."
Sergio makes a sound that might be a laugh. I turn to look at him, and the movement is too fast, and suddenly the room decides to do an impression of a carnival ride.
The floor tilts.
My vision blurs.
I'm falling.
Arms catch me before I hit the ground. Strong arms attached to a broad chest that smells like pine and mint and antiseptic and something uniquely Pedro.
His hands are warm through the henley, one splayed across my back, the other gripping my arm to steady me. I'm pressed against him, my cheek against his shoulder, my nose practically buried in the curve of his neck where his scent is strongest.
It wraps around me like a weighted blanket. My omega purrs so loud I'm genuinely concerned everyone can hear it.
Then a growl rips through the room.
Low. Dangerous. Primal. The kind of sound that makes every prey instinct I have stand at attention and salute.
I lift my head, disoriented.
Sergio is staring at Pedro. At Pedro's hands on my body. At the way I'm pressed against him, breathing in his scent. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. His eyes have gone dark, pupils blown wide enough to swallow the brown.
He's growling.
At his packmate.
For catching me when I fainted.
The room goes absolutely still. Like someone hit pause on reality.
Nacho freezes halfway down the last step. Carlos stops breathing behind me, his chest going rigid against my back. Pedro's hands tighten on my waist for half a second, then release so fast you'd think I burst into flames.
"Sorry." Pedro steps back, putting distance between us like I'm radioactive. His voice is rough. Strained. "You were falling. Didn't mean to... I was just trying to help."
"Thank you," I say, wobbling on my feet like a newborn giraffe. "I appreciate not becoming intimately acquainted with your floor. It looks hard. The floor, I mean. Not... other things. I'm going to stop talking now."
Sergio hasn't moved. Hasn't stopped staring at where Pedro's hands were on my body.
