Her gaze lingers on me a beat longer than the others before sliding away.
"Morning," Drake chirps, over-bright. "Breakfast. You're in for a treat."
"Oh. That's nice."
I can't tell if she means it.
Ragon pulls out a chair for her—next to Drake, across from his usual spot. Eli and I plate everything up: eggs, bacon, toast, a little bowl of fruit.
I set her plate down maybe harder than necessary. "There. Basic pack breakfast. We can add a halo later if it's not up to miracle standards."
Eli's hand brushes my back in silent warning. Drake's mouth tightens. Marie blinks, clearly unsure if I'm joking.
"I'm not a miracle."
"Give it time."
Ragon's voice drops to that low warning register as he murmurs something unintelligible . I swallow the next comment and retreat to my chair, dropping into it with more force than needed. Eli sits close enough our shoulders touch. Ragon takes the head of the table, Drake on his right, Marie on his left.
The seating chart of a new world I don't recognize.
"Eat," Ragon says, like we need instruction.
I dig into eggs mostly to occupy my hands. The food tastes fine—it always does. My stomach is too knotted to care.
Across from me, Marie picks up her fork delicately. She prods the eggs, takes a small bite, reaches for toast. Nibbles the corner, chews, swallows.
Then puts it down and reaches for fruit instead.
"You don't like it?" Drake tries to keep his tone light.
She flushes. "It's not that. I'm just not used to this kind of breakfast."
"'This kind'?" I echo.
She glances at me, then back at her plate. "We usually had something simpler. Oatmeal. Maybe toast with jam. This is rich."
Rich. Like indulgent. Like too much.
My hackles rise. "Sorry my cooking is too complicated for your delicate system."
"That's not what she meant," Eli murmurs.
She shakes her head quickly. "No, I just— It's really good. I'm just not hungry after everything yesterday. New place, new people, long drive..."
"You mean new alphas," I say. "Say it. We're all thinking it."
Her shoulders tense. "I was trying to be polite."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to interfere with your politeness. By all means, pick at the food I spent an hour making."
Drake winces but doesn't get a word out before Marie speaks.
"It's not about the food. I'm just nervous."
"Right. So is everyone else. You think being the old news omega in this situation is a spa day?"
Ragon's tone drops dangerously. "Enough."
