TALLY
Ifinish eating at the same time Keegan throws his phone against the wall.
Although I was slowly relaxing around them, after him sounding off, I’m like a cat on a hot tin roof again. My nerves are understandably shot, but I wasn’t expecting a deep ache and need to comfort him. I’m getting lost in the push and pull of our designations, which is a sign of how tired I am and how scent matched we are, but I can’t afford to show them any weakness, either. It’s a balancing act, one I’m currently doing a shit job at.
I tuck into a small ball, wondering how I can sneak past Keegan when Tynan breaks the spell for me.
“Go work it off.” Tynan’s voice is like a clap of thunder aimed towards Keegan.
The Alpha responds in an instant. It takes me a second to catch up, because I was expecting the shit to hit the fan after Tynan telling Keegan what to do. I’ve worked with lots ofdifferent Alphas and had to endure their endless mood swings, but it’s different seeing pack dynamics firsthand.
I think Tynan realizes I’m thrown, and not only by Keegan’s tantrum. He lets me have the space to catch myself and doesn’t look directly at me when he takes the tray back to the kitchen. He cleans up without talking, then he squats in front of me. “Can I look at your side now?”
“Keegan did before. It’s fine.”
Tynan rests a hand on my leg, and like burn cream, it smooths away my fraying nerves again. “We all see things differently, Tally.”
“And I usually act differently than what you guys are seeing,” I offer, experiencing a sudden need to explain myself.
He hums, his only response, before I shuffle forward and lift my top. Watching him is interesting. He approaches checking the wound differently than Keegan did. His entire energy is different, really.
“I’m not an invalid.”
Tynan doesn’t argue. He doesn’t say anything as he checks it over, pushing it gently. Without another word, he goes into the kitchen, opening one of the overhead cupboards and pulls out a medical kit.
“If you let me wrap it, I’ll let you do a light workout.”
He goes to stand, expecting me to follow, but I grab his hand. And then realize I did, dropping his hand quickly. “Thank you. For the food and looking after me, and it’s all nice and everything, but before anything else happens, I want to speak with everyone. We need to set some ground rules and all get on the same page.”
“Same page?”
“Yeah.”
He looks stumped, and I don’t want to be a bitch, considering how nice he’s being, but they’re all acting like I’m here of my ownfree will. Which I’m not. Technically. I mean, my change of heart is a means to an end, and they don’t need to know that, but they do need to know what’s going to fly and what I won’t allow.
I double-check the clock on the fridge to make sure I have the time right, considering it’s already dark out. “I’m working tonight. I’m sure there’ll be someone here who’ll want to argue about it, so I’d like to save my energy for that before I decide if I want to train or not. And the deal was wedding ring or guns, and surprise, surprise… the door reopens.”
I finish with a large, put-on smile, which makes the subtle lemon of his scent get tart enough to make me want to squint my eyes. I fight against it, because he’ll see it as a sign of weakness. Or me not being at my best.
“You don’t need money,” he states rather than asks.
“It’s not about money.”
“Then, what is it about?”
I stand, forcing him to take a couple of steps back. “Being me. You can’t take away my independence. If you force the issue, any hope of us becoming a real pack and actually being a real married group will vanish.”
“That’s a threat?”
“No. It’s a fact of life. What’s something you hate?”
He doesn’t answer, although his lack of words doesn’t mean he's disengaging, plus I don’t really give him a lot of time.
“Imagine if I took away your access to all gyms in the entire world. You don’t need to work out—I mean, look at you. Are you good if I ask you never to work out again?”
The stare I get reveals his thoughts on the matter.
“Or how would your twin feel if I asked him to never say your name again? It’s ridiculous, right? He’d do it, though. Being an Omega, he’d do it just from knowing it would make me happy. You’d do it, too, the workout thing, I mean. But how long would it take before you started missing working out so much that itwould make you snap at me? Your irritation would turn into frustration, then it would fester until one day you’d look at me and wonder who the hell I think I am asking you not to do something you love. Right this second, you think you wouldn’t hate me because of it, but you would. You wouldn’t be able to think of me without this awful taste coating your thoughts. One day, that hate would grow to such epic proportions, no matter how much you didn’t want it to, that you’d maybe give me a little shove or you’d snap…”
