Ivan chuckles, while Maeve raises a disbelieving eyebrow at me.
Trooper is curled up into a comfortable shrimp shape at the foot of the bed, resting on a weighted lap blanket. He nuzzles into Maeve’s palm, pleased at the attention.
“I wanted to get the best bed possible,” I explain. “If we’re going to live here—if we’re going to do this—I wanted all of us to be comfortable. I don’t mind spending money on that. Even the cat trees are custom—there’s no reason for us to have a generic bed if Stella and Trooper can get the luxuries they deserve.”
Fang nods. “I get it,” he says, then turns to Maeve. “So, what’s the plan, babe? We stay here a couple days, then go back at your place?”
Maeve looks thoughtful. “I think I want to take it day by day. Maybe we end up staying here longer. She glances at me, smiling. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay,” I say quickly. “This house is basically yours.”
Her eyes widen, and Ivan lets out a low whistle.
“I told you,” he tells her. “He’s down bad for you.”
“I’m right here,” I remind them, my cheeks burning.
Even with Ivan’s teasing, it doesn’t make it any less true.
My home is hers.
My life is hers.
I never thought I would have a scent match—it had been far too long, and I never imagined I could be part of a pack after all these years.
Yet the unimaginable has happened, and my soulmate is standing in front of me.
Who am I to not give her the world?
But Maeve’s brilliant smile as she turns to me is worth any embarrassment I might experience. She throws herself into my arms, hugging me tightly, and I lose myself in her scent.
Chamomile. Happiness.
“Stop teasing Logan,” she warns Ivan and Fang. “Or I’ll let him bite me first.”
The room freezes, and even she stiffens at what she allowed to slip out.
My mind goes fuzzy with her words.
I told myself it would be enough to be her scent match. I’m delighted to be in her life; she’s my friend, she finds me interesting. She lets me rant about my rock doves.
She’sfun—Maeve brings life and light wherever she goes, and I’m happy to just bask in it.
Being scent matched to her was more than enough.
Yet, when she talks about me biting her…
My inner Alpha growls, subtle and low, and I pray that no one heard it.
“Don’t threaten us with a good time,” Fang finally says, his voice thick. It breaks the tension in the air, and then, we’re back to unpacking.
But I keep sneaking a peek at that delightful mating gland that peeks out of her tank top.
The raised bump of skin is subtle, but now that she’s mentioned biting, I just can’t stop staring.
How would it feel, to bite her?
Would it hurt her at all? What if I’m too rough?
