Genesis was not an indecisive woman. She knew what she wanted out of life, and she went for it. She liked her privacy and her solitude, and she loved her work and her small circle of chosen family. She didn’t typically concern herself with other people’s opinions of her—she figured that was none of her business. Most successful people pissed at least a few folks off along the way to greatness. Genesis had never wanted to be popular. And she didn’t want to be bonded, controlled by a pack of fickle alphas.
Yet here she was, pouting inside because she couldn’t tell if Orlando found her attractive beyond a biological imperative.
Realistically, Genesis had always known she couldn’t live forever without alphas. It wasn’t safe or healthy or even practical. But she’d convinced herself she’d find a way to live unmated, taking on temporary packs whenever her heats grew too unbearable. She’d use donors when she was ready to have children. She wouldn’t grow dependent on anyone, especially a pack of alphas who saw her as an interchangeable object—like her fathers who happily replaced her mother before her scent had fully faded from the fabric of their home, even though they’d seemed to love her so much when she was alive. That was the trouble with relationships driven by biology. How could you ever know what was real?
At present, however, Genesis was having trouble holding on to her convictions. Pack Rossi had shown more care for her in a single week than anyone had in, well, ever. They’d handled everything for her move, given her a beautiful, private space to live in, and catered to her comfort at every turn. If this was pack life, it might not be so bad.
Get a grip, Gen. It’s beenone weeksince you met them. Don’t start picking out baby names yet. This is still the honeymoon phase.
“Why don’t we start by explaining a bit about our typical routines, and then we can discuss how you’d like to participate in or modify things?” Orlando settled into a nearby armchair. He crossed his ankle over his knee, steepling his fingers and fixing Genesis with his steady gaze. “From there we can discuss more intimate matters.”
Genesis flushed. Even though Orlando was being as polite and proper as always, something about the way he saidmore intimate matterswent straight to Genesis’s core. It had to be that damn voice of his. It was a late-night radio host voice, the voice of the suave, morally gray television villain you couldn’t help but crush on despite their evil ways. It was a voice that had surely talked plenty of women right out of their panties.
“You’ll get used to his formality,” Gabriel said, winking at Genesis. “He’s literally always been like this, even as a teenager. I don’t think I’ve seen him in a pair of jeans in at least fifteen years.”
“He’s a stuffy old motherfucker who likes sounding smarter than everyone else,” Luke corrected, spreading himself out, legs wide and arms draped over the back of the couch opposite her.
There was something so commanding and compelling about the way he took up space. It made Genesis want to invade that space, to straddle his lap and run her hands down his broad chest. She bit the inside of her cheek to remind herself to stay focused on the conversation. Luke gave her a lazy, knowing half-smile.
Orlando ignored his packmates’ color commentary. “I work from home a few days a week. Luke spends his time overseeing the farm, and Gabriel is generally here as well, working in his studio or searching the outdoors for inspiration.”
“Lando takes care of the money, I take care of the homestead, and the kid fucks around all day making weird shit,” Luke interjected.
Genesis tried not to laugh. How did his packmates resist the urge to strangle him? She’d been called a smart ass more than a few times, but Luke out-snarked her by a mile. It was like he was physically incapable of saying anything nice.
“You’ll get used to Luke’s shit, too,” Gabriel assured her. “I swear there’s a good guy underneath all that surliness.”
“Fuck you, Gabe,” Luke replied pleasantly.
“Luke bought Gabriel’s very first painting for an obscene amount of money and still has it hanging in his bedroom,” Orlando said, examining his nails with cool boredom. “And Gabriel’s art contributes as much to our wealth as the farm and our business investments, so don’t be condescending, Luke Wyatt.”
Luke scowled and Gabriel grinned, and Genesis felt her heart skip a beat. Their bickering was oddly endearing. Though they were much older than her, and old-fashioned at times, there was something boyish about the way they behaved together. Genesis supposed that siblings always acted that way, regardless of their age. It gave her a little pang of envy that she quickly pushed away, reminding herself that it wasn’t too late for her to have a good relationship with Greyson. He’d be waiting to hear all about her day.
“We keep different hours, but we try to have dinner together each evening at seven,” Orlando went on. “We would love it if you joined us as often as you’re inclined. Your kitchen is well-stocked, of course, and Marco will make you anything at any time if you’re not in the mood to cook. You’re always welcome to come up to the house for anything you need, or to call Andrea and she’ll have whatever you need delivered to the cottage. I’mafraid we don’t get many takeout deliveries this far out, but Marco is an absolute magician.”
“I’ll take you into the city if you’re ever craving something in particular,” Gabriel offered. “It’ll be a great way to get me out of the house from time to time. Luke’s hermit ways have been rubbing off on me.”
Genesis shook her head, a little overwhelmed by all of their kindness. “I’m sure I’ll be fine feeding myself most of the time, but I’d be happy to join you for dinner. Marco proved his skills this evening. I won’t be turning down his cooking anytime soon.”
“Fine, but I took the liberty of providing he and Andrea with your cell number. The cottage also has a landline, so I can’t promise you’ll be allowed to escape at least a few unsolicited meal deliveries.” Orlando shrugged apologetically. “Andrea will you get added to the pack calendar and will handle any shopping, grocery or otherwise. There will also always be a driver at your disposal. We just ask that you let someone know your whereabouts. Your safety is of utmost importance to us, Genesis, and we take our responsibility to care for you very seriously.”
Across the room, Genesis saw Luke’s ruddy complexion go pale. The air around him seemed to dim a bit as he retreated into himself, his fiery personality going cold. Genesis felt the urge to go to him, but she held herself still. She remembered how Luke had gone all alphahole during their first meeting, saying that her journalism career was too dangerous.
She didn’t want him to think he could control her, or that he could deter her from her career path. Still, she wasn’t a monster. It didn’t take a psychiatrist to see that the murder of his omega haunted Luke, even more than the others. Any alpha would feel horrible in his situation, considering their biological imperative to protect. Genesis didn’t want to cause him any additional suffering.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” she said carefully, holding eye contact with each alpha in turn. “I’m not used to reporting my comings and goings to anyone, but I understand your concern. What if I share my location with you? That way I don’t have to feel like I’m asking permission to leave the house, and you’ll still always know where I am.”
Orlando smiled, a little proudly. “Shrewd negotiation, my dear. We accept those terms.”
“But still let us know, whenever you feel like it,” Gabriel added, eyeing Luke, who sat silently, jaw clenched tight. “You know, because sometimes we might want something from town or to share a ride. You’ll see when Andrea adds you to the calendar. We try to coordinate that stuff to reduce our carbon footprint.”
Gabriel’s tone was light, but it rang false. Genesis couldn’t tell if it was his own anxiety troubling him, or if he was feeling Luke’s through their pack bond. Either way, she wanted to set them both at ease.
“This planet is all of our responsibility,” she said, injecting a teasing lilt into her voice. “I’ll check in with you if I plan to head into town. Maybe we can start a group chat.”
“Goddammit,” Luke complained, finally thawing a little. “I’ve avoided becoming a slave to my cell like the rest of you sheeple and now Buttercup here is making it so I’ll be checking the damn thing every five minutes. Fucking millennials.”
“Alright, grandpa, it must be close to bedtime cause you’re getting crankier.” Genesis grinned as the color returned to Luke’s skin. Bullseye. She was good at reading people, and she knew Luke needed to be sassed out of his melancholy. “I’ll teach you how to find your text messages tomorrow, okay?”
