The growl has faded, but the tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife. Or possibly a chainsaw. Maybe industrial equipment.
"Brother." Nacho's voice is carefully neutral, the cop voice he probably uses when diffusing domestic disputes. "Want to tell us what that was about?"
Sergio blinks, and it's like watching someone surface from deep underwater. Something shifts in his expression.
"Sorry." He runs a hand through his dark curly hair, looking anywhere but at me. At the door. The ceiling. The family photoson the wall. "I don't know what... that was instinct. I didn't mean to... I shouldn't have..."
"It's fine," I squeak. My voice has gone up several octaves. "Totally fine. Just some light growling. Very normal. Happens all the time. I'm sure people growl at each other constantly in this house."
"It doesn't happen all the time," Carlos says from behind me, and I can hear the amusement in his voice. "In fact, I don't think I've ever heard Sergio growl at one of us before. Ever."
"Carlos." Sergio's voice is pure warning.
"I'm just saying. It's interesting. Noteworthy. Worth discussing at length later."
"It's not interesting. It's embarrassing." Sergio finally looks at me, and I see mortification in his brown eyes. Regret. "I'm sorry, Jess. That was completely inappropriate. You're a guest in our house, and I just acted like some kind of..."
"Caveman alpha staking his claim?" Carlos finishes helpfully.
"I was going to say 'Neanderthal,' but sure. Your version works too."
I don't know whether to laugh or cry or run screaming into the night. My body is vibrating with conflicting signals. Fear and arousal and exhaustion.
"Can someone please show me to my room?" The words burst out of me. "I really need to sit down before I fall down again and start a territory war."
"I'll take you." Pedro steps forward, then stops, glancing at Sergio like he's asking permission. "Unless that's going to be a problem."
The tension ratchets up another notch. I can feel it pressing against my skin.
"It's not a problem." Sergio's voice is carefully controlled, each word measured. "Show her the guest room. Make sure shehas everything she needs. Extra blankets. Water. Whatever she wants."
Pedro nods curtly and picks up my suitcase before I can protest. "This way."
I follow him down a hallway that opens off the foyer, leaving the other three standing in a tableau of awkward alpha posturing. The floor is hardwood, and the walls are covered in family photos, black and white images of stern-faced men with strong jaws and dark hair.
The guest room is at the end of the hall, Pedro pushes open the door and flips on the light.
It's small but cozy. A double bed with a brass frame, covered in a quilt that looks hand-stitched, all blues and greens in an intricate pattern. A dresser with a mirror. A window that faces what must be the back garden, though it's too dark to see anything. A door that leads to a tiny bathroom.
It's perfect.
"Heat works," Pedro says, setting my suitcase on the bed. "Hot water takes about thirty seconds to come through the pipes. There are extra blankets in the closet if you get cold. Towels in the bathroom cabinet."
"Thank you."
He turns to leave, and I should let him. I should let him walk out that door so I can collapse onto this bed and process everything that just happened.
But my mouth has other ideas.
"About what happened back there." The words tumble out. "With Sergio. The growling thing."
Pedro stops in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. He doesn't turn around.
"Sergio isn't usually like that," he says finally, his voice gruff.
"I gathered that from the shocked silence that followed."
"It's just..." He rubs the back of his neck, and I watch the muscles in his shoulders shift under his t-shirt. "You're an omega. An unbonded omega. In the territory of four alphas who've been pack mates for years." He pauses. "Instincts get complicated."
