“A what?” Bellamy is looking at me like I’m insane.
“Something tells us you need more than flowers and romance,” Shiloh says, coming closer. “Winter came apart to the sounds of torture, and quite beautifully, I might add. Trauma has a way of recircuiting your brain. Don’t get me wrong, there will still be romance, but there will also be a murder list.”
Bellamy grins as he nods.”I can probably help with the murder list as long as I don’t have to talk about why they’re on it,” he admits.
“Perfect,” Shiloh says, pulling off his gloves and tossing them in the garbage. “Let’s take this photo, and then you can leave us with Clyde.”
“Are we doing smiles or middle fingers?” I ask moving into position.
“Have you done this before?” Bellamy asks, laughing as Shiloh votes for a middle finger salute.
“Only to send it to Abbott when he can’t come play with us,” I explain.
The four of us smile wide and flick off the camera as Shiloh takes the photo.
“Perfect,” I decide as I see it. Our pack would make murderous memories.
“I’ll walk you upstairs,” Cassidy says, washing her hands and drying them quickly.
Bellamy wraps his arm around her waist without thinking as they walk, and Shiloh grins at me, watching as they disappear across the house.
“It might be coming together slowly, but it’s happening,” he says. “Whether it be baby steps or leaps and bounds, all that matters is that Bellamy, Cass, and Winter are happy.”
I grunt in agreement, knowing he’s right before grabbing a chair to let Clyde’s hunk of flesh finish burning. The alpha is going to continue to be a pain in the ass right up until the pigs are grinding down their bones.
It would figure.
ABBOTT
A murder spree to exterminate the scourge on our city sounds like the perfect way to welcome our omegas to Savannah. If they aren’t safe, then there’s no way they can feel welcome, right?
Yeah, that’s the kind of logic I enjoy too.
Walking up the stairs to their nest, I wonder what they’re up to. They’ve been scarce the last three days. Neither of them seemed very affected by the torture and murder in our basement, and they both provided Shiloh with new people to add to his murder list during dinner.
They mentioned they had to work on the nest, and that made me a little concerned. Are they nesting in preparation for their heat? Is there a reason they feel as if it has to get done?
There have been a lot of deliveries over the last few days, and we’ve dutifully walked them up to the nest. I have absolutely no idea what to expect when I get to the top of the stairs.
“Knock, knock,” I say, rapping my knuckles on the wall. There’s no door to the nest since the entire attic is their domain.
We don’t hoard shit, so the attic has always been pretty clear of boxes and such. We always knew one day, we’d find an omega.
Instead, Fate found us two.
Looking around, I find that I can’t find either of them at the moment. The attic is slowly getting a new personality. The walls are all painted a gorgeous lavender color, except for the wall behind the bed. Instead, there’s a background of a forest behind it reminiscent of a foggy night. It’s absolutely gorgeous.
“Wow,” I whisper, unable to look at anything else.
Sure, there is a swing on the ground in the middle of being built and a blanket connected to knitting needles I’m confused about, but that wall? It’s perfect.
“Sorry about the mess,” Winter squeaks out as she comes out of the bathroom. There’s a closet that connects to it as well, but I don’t see any signs of Bellamy as I glance at her.
“Your mural is beautiful,” I tell her. “I don’t give a fuck about the mess, Winter. This is your space, your house. Messes happen, it’s part of living.”
“I’m still figuring that out. Bell did the mural,” she admits. “Aunt Matilda was a cunt about, well, everything.”
“As you said, she’s a cunt,” I shrug. “I wanted to check on you, see if you need anything.”
