“Good night, Dem,” I whispered back as I snuggled in closer to my pillow. Just as imagined, the bed was very comfortable.
Chapter ten
The Prince
Preston
The house felt wonderfully different as I stood in the kitchen, cooking breakfast for everyone. Ivy chose to spend the night here, and I couldn’t have been more elated; just one step closer to her moving in and bonding with the pack.
Her scent was everywhere this morning: on the couch, down the halls, in the bathroom. It was so intoxicating that I had to keep refocusing myself on the task at hand. Well, the eggs were a little overcooked, but no other major mistakes—oh crap, the bacon!
Pulling the bacon out of the oven, my entire body felt tired this morning. Ivy kept us awake all night playing games until she eventually passed out in Dem’s arms. Once he carried her up to her room, it took every fiber of my being not to enter her room and snuggle up to her in bed. I didn’t even want to acknowledge the intense, nonstop fantasies running through my mind of her in my bed.
I exhaled loudly, placing my hands on the counter as I did a mental check for breakfast. Apart from dance, cooking was my second passion. It gave me a free space to let me focuswhile tuning out the world. It also kept me from having to do any other obnoxious chores around the house. There was something about the repetition of perfecting one’s technique in the kitchen that was eerily similar to how dancers trained.
“That smells really good.”
I turned my head to see a half-awake Ivy standing barefoot at the bottom of the stairs, still in yesterday’s clothes with her hair all tousled from sleeping. Seeing her all sleepy and unkempt brought a smile to my face. She was slowly letting her guard down.
“Morning! Hungry?” I asked as I set out plates full of scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, bacon, sausages, and orange juice.
“Starving—this looks delicious!” She inhaled deeply before picking up a piece of fruit and plopping it in her mouth.
“What would you like to eat?” I waved a pair of tongs at her before grabbing a clean plate.
She shook her head with a chuckle. “You don’t have to serve me. I can get it myself.”
“I want to serve you,” I said as I dramatically pressed my hands to my heart. “It fulfills me greatly to know you’ve eaten my food. Plus, it’s like an alpha thing, so just accept it and be spoiled, little omega.”
She rolled her eyes at me, but smiled in agreement. I looked at everything and pointed to each one. She likedbacon and sausages, loved the fruit, and orange juice. No to the eggs.
“You don’t like eggs?”
She shrugged softly.
I guessed again. “You don’t likescrambledeggs?”
She agreed with that statement.
“What kind do you like?”
She thought for a minute before replying. “My favorite is medium eggs on top of buttered toast, so the yolk can soak up into the bread.”
“I can make that for you!” I exclaimed, snapping my tongs and turning back to the stove top. I'd gladly make anything she desired.
“No!” she laughed, running over and grabbing my arm. “Please sit and eat with me.”
“How can I refuse you?” I softly said to her, gently brushing her hair. Setting down the tongs, I grabbed both our plates and carried them to the table. She held our drinks, and we found a spot looking out over the windows to the patio. A slight breeze outside gently swayed a few palm trees that dotted our property, creating a sense of tranquility.
“It’s so peaceful here…” she mused in a half-whisper, staring out to the patio. “I almost don’t want to…”
Leave. She didn’t have to say it, but I felt it too.
I thought for a moment, not quite sure what to say. I didn’t want her to feel rushed to be with us, but I wanted her to feelwelcomed. “That room upstairs is yours and no one else’s. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll be ready for you.”
She turned and smiled at me before bumping into my shoulder playfully.
Just as she was about to take the first bite of her food, two pairs of footsteps sounded out as they walked down the stairs in the living room. Ivy and I looked to see Lukas and Isaac entering the kitchen, looking as tired as I felt.
