"Sorry I'm late," a bright, unfamiliar voice calls. Feminine, brisk, annoyed at traffic.
Marie's scent spikes with something like relief.
I glance toward the archway in time to see Marie hurry into the foyer and embrace a woman about our age, maybe a bit older. She's tall and slim, dressed in sleek black, with her dark hair twisted into a neat bun. She smells like expensive perfume and olive oil.
"Mel," Marie says, clinging. "You made it."
"Of course I did. You said your diet here was a nightmare."
My brows knit.Excuse me?
Drake appears at Marie's elbow, grinning. "You must be Mel. The famous cousin-chef."
I stiffen.Chef?
Mel arranges her features into a pleasant expression for him. "You must be Drake. Marie's told me a lot."
He preens.
Ragon appears, offering a handshake. "You're welcome here as long as you treat my omegas well."
A warning. Aninvitation.
Mel glances at me standing in the kitchen doorway, flour on my hands, apron on, hair frizzed with heat.
Her eyes skim me from head to toe. The corner of her mouth twitches.
"And this is...?"
"The other omega," Marie says quickly. "She—"
"I know who she is. You mentioned her. The one who stress-bakes."
The words make my spine straighten, shoulders rising like a cat's hackles. Heat flushes up my neck as my fingers curl tighter around the wooden spoon.
"Nice to meet you too."
She steps past me into the kitchen without waiting to be invited, looking around at the counters, the open bags, the trays cooling on racks.
"Oh my. This is a lot of sugar."
"Card night. People like treats."
"People like living. And not having their arteries clog before forty."
My jaw clenches. "They're adults. They know what they're eating."
She waves a dismissive hand. "Marie asked me to help get some proper nutrition in here. She said your meals are charmingly chaotic."
Marie's cheeks flush. "I didn't mean— I just said we eat a lot of takeout."
"And sugar," Mel adds, picking up one of my cookies and examining it like it's a specimen. "This is cute. For a hobby."
My stomach drops.
"Itismy hobby. It's not a business."
"Exactly. It's fine. Sweet. A little unbalanced. Too much vanilla, not enough salt. But your alphas will need more than 'fine' if they're going to keep you omegas and this circus of a household functioning."
