“What about Corin?” Dan’s words carry an arch tone, while the humor flowing from him mixes with a fair amount of worry.
“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have an alpha stronger than me around.” I bow my head, letting some of my reluctant admiration and even attraction seep back to Dan. “Though, if my Renee were still with us, I’d bow to her before him.”
Before he can respond, loud and demanding meows interrupt from the back seat. We laugh, then start gathering bags, bins, and cats for the trek back to the house.
Chapter 38
Listening to My Inner Self
JOHANNA
Warm water laps my shoulders as I slip lower in the tub. A soft pink pillow fastened to the rim squeaks when I lean back until only my head and neck rise above the waterline. Every inhale brings steam, scented with aloe and eucalyptus to soothe my throat.
Since I’d finally gone back into Max’s and my bedroom, I retrieved my collection of post-heat bath salts, lotions, and unguents, rewarding myself with a long soak.
After Nathan and Dan left, part of me had longed to crawl under bedcovers and indulge in a good, cathartic cry. It lost to the more practical part, which argued for a solid soak and judicious application of healing ointments.
I haven’t indulged inthatmuch sex recently, by heat-measures. Even Max’s last heat had left me far more exhausted and achy. Still, I’ve been knotted twice in three days, and odds are, I’ll get a chance to be knotted again over the weekend, unless things go seriously awry. That, plus the complaints in my knees and back, warrant a good soak.
Despite being enveloped in soothing scents and warm water, other worries and wonders distract from my aches and pains.
In particular, bonds.
Considering how much time I’ve spent over the years daydreaming about bonding into a pack, I’ve devoted fairly little thought to the actual mechanics. Movies show them, of course, but their simulated shots of teeth digging into skin swiftly shift to the orgasmic expressions of the newly bound mates.
The sheer relief on Nathan’s face lingers in my brain, alongside the joy on Dan’s, even though he was the only one who didn’t come. That matches my expectations.
Of course, when one notices bond marks on other people, they’re glowing scars of silver, gold, or copper, or other contrasting colors against their skin—not actual bites with blood everywhere. Blood on Nathan’s teeth, dripping from his mouth, and seeping from Dan’s arm.
The bond will be temporary unless Dan bites Nathan back, which means that, if they do want to pack up, Nathan will probably have to bite Dan again—and Nathan went through this processtwicewith his first pack!
At which my brain trips and I realize I’m thinking about his ‘first’ pack, suggesting that there is—or will be—a second.
Or does Nathan consider it all one big pack? In my dream of Nathan after Max’s heat, he’d said that, if his pack were still alive, all three of them would’ve courted us. Sounds nice: a pack courting another pack to form a bigger one.
Nice, yes, except for the biting part.
Maybe it’s different for alphas and omegas—a natural expectation. Instinct. I grew up in a pack, but they’d formed their bonds well before I came along.
I’m not sure I’m capable of biting someone hard enough to make them bleed. I don’t eat flesh—meat or fish—because I can’tstand the texture; it makes my stomach turn. How can I bear digging my teeth into someone I love?
The water’s grown tepid, so I get out and apply some lotions and salves I kept stocked up for post-heat. As I rub orange-scented aloe lotion in—bringing Max to mind—I find bruises I don’t remember getting. Pale blue ovals mar my hips, presumably from Corin holding me? That, in addition to all the hickeys on my neck and shoulders from Nathan’s sucking.
Aches and worries leave me pensive and on the slippery slope to crabbiness. Dan and Nathan should return shortly, but I have no desire whatsoever to dress up for them. If they want to pack up, they might as well see me at my not-so-best.
I pull on a comfy, ratty nightshirt in bright pink, going braless underneath to let the girls swing free. Plain undies and loose sweats complete the ensemble. I’m finger combing my hair while searching for my bunny slippers when the phone rings.
Impossible to ignore—though I check who’s calling before answering.
“Hey Hester.” A surprise caller. Sudden dread presses on me; that I forgot I’m supposed to host the book group this Sunday. I frantically page through my calendar to check whether the fear is justified.
“Johanna.” There’s an edge of apology in Hester’s warm tones. “I know it’s Friday, and you probably have plans this evening, but I hope you can spare a little time.”
“Sure,” I locate the book group meeting, but it’s not for another week and I’m not hosting, haven’t read the book yet, either. As I sit on my bed, still combing fingers through my hair, a different possibility dawns. Perhaps Hester wants money for Sage Street—although this is an odd time to ask, and over the phone, no less.
“I don’t know why it took so long for me to figure this out, but given what your nieces said earlier this week …” Hester drawsin a hissing breath, then sighs. “Forgive the liberty, but are you considering joining a pack?”
“Sort of, maybe.” I shrug, though she can’t see. “There might be a pack forming that includes me. Though that’s not something I want spread around.”
