IN THE KITCHEN, I WASHmy hands and tie my hair back. I had brought several aprons from my bakery, in case my pack ever wanted to share the kitchen. I pull mine on, a rich green, and offer a basic cream-colored one to Tristan.
He tugs it on and ties it, the criss-cross back holding him up for a moment.
“So... what are we making?”
“Well, it turns out Inken has a terrible sweet tooth and would prefer something rich for every meal... so I was going to make ‘dinner-muffins.’”
He tilts his head, a red curl falling into his eyes. “Dinner muffins?” A chuckle. “Someday soon I should make you all French toast.” He straightens, running his hands down his apron. “Alright, so what goesin these muffins?”
I smile at him and I watch him stare a moment at my teeth. None of his are as sharp as ours. “Alright, so, I want to get some grains, and protein, in these. But since Ink loves sweets, I need to use the beudi fruit.” I turn and grab a beudi from a lower cabinet.
About the size of my head, the flaky outer flesh is easy to remove with some knife work. Tristan watches quietly. I switch to a cleaver and heave the fruit in two. The pink-brown flesh wraps around a large black pit, which I quickly remove and discard.
“Try it,” I encourage him.
He shoots me a flirty but skeptical look before dipping a finger into the soft flesh and scooping a bit to his mouth.
“Mmm!” he mumbles enthusiastically as he swallows. “It tastes like banana!”
I arch my brows. “Does not translate.”
He gestures, “Never mind, Zilas. What else do we need? Can I help?”
I grin with pleasure. “Grab that bowl and scoop the meat out while I grind some tristl for the protein.”
A SPAN OR SO LATER, the dinner muffins are in the oven. The kitchen is a disaster, though.
“Let me show you something, omega,” I offer quietly, a grin playing at my lips. I clean my hands on a towel as Tristan takes off his apron.
I lead us out of the kitchen and to the right. We pass the main entrance, complete with our ennihas tree, into the low-ceilinged portion of Traex’s home.
We enter the only room on this side of the house: an airy open space with large windows that overlook the pond and the flowering branka tree. Tucked against one wall are shelves. Because of the angled walls, however, the shelves curl inward, making a large half-circular nook. The floor is completely covered in various huge pillows in deep yellows and purples. Tucked away on lower shelves are blankets of various colors. The shelves themselves, covered in books, extend to the ceiling. Tristan freezes, eyes wide. I grin, tugging out the translator lenses. I hold them out to him and he brings his shocked eyes to mine.
Chuckling, I say, “I had a feeling you’d like it. I’ll come get you when the alphas are ready for dinner.”
He throws himself at me, and I wrap my arms around him tightly.
A pack. An omega. My heart is full.
But the thought that the alphas had planted about getting our omega pregnant. About how I might someday rock a kit to sleep? Or teach them to play frecrur?That is enough to make my heart explode, I consider as I head back to the kitchen to prepare a fresh loaf of bread for tomorrow.
IT’S PERHAPS A SPANwhen I pour a cup of tea to bring Tristan. But as I step out of the kitchen, I notice Azane and Ink standing in the entry.
“It might not be a good idea,” Azane mutters.
“Mm, and a cat is?” Ink asks pointedly. “We’re spoiling him,” she continues. “Bothof them, really.”
Azane chuckles and shrugs. “I suppose. And so? With good reason. We’re established and now we have a pack. Why not?”Azane responds breezily, her mind seemingly changed on whatever they were discussing.
She catches me watching them, eyes wide.
“Sorry, alphas, I was only bringing Tristan some tea in the library nook. And I...”
Ink stalks towards me, an evil look on her face. “Tsk, tsk, beta, I think you need to be punished.” She grins, pointed teeth showing.
I smile back. “I think so too, alpha,” I rumble.
She chuckles, “See, Azane,spoiled. Not even a little afraid of his ebondenn.” She tilts my chin up with a single finger and kisses me softly.
