Page 20 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

“I didn’t do anything.” Her voice raised.

“Goodbye, Maeve. Speak to you on the other side. I need to prepare.”

“If you don’t ring me in the morning, I’ll be on a plane.”

“Give me a couple of days before you send the army. I doubt I’ll be in a position to call by morning.”

The ache pulsed, and my hand closed hard around their card.

Confidence is a funny thing. Mine had left the building earlier with Damien’s non-exclusively declaration and had apparently circled back wearing a towel and carrying silicone reinforcements.

I dressed in the least offensive things available. Clean underwear, a loose black dress with the hotel robe over the top. My hair was still wet. My cheeks were fever-bright. My pupils had taken over most of my eyes, and none of that was fixable.

I cleaned the three toys and placed them back into the pouch, and tucked it under my arm.

“Just in case,” I told myself as I stared into the mirror. “They are a little old. I might wear them out.” I smiled, because I was fairly sure that was unlikely.

But if a woman is going to walk three doors down and make a life-altering decision during pre-heat, she should at least bring supplies. I had no intention of crawling back to my own room on my knees if I wore them out.

I took my key card, and what was left of my courage.

Chapter 4

Lincoln

The knock at the door was soft, undecided, perhaps.

Hudson looked up from where he stood beside the desk, phone in one hand, hotel notepad in the other. He’d been writing down clinic numbers, emergency heat protocols, and organizing snacks and drinks, just in case she came.

I’d been pacing, wanting to go to her room. Just to check on her. The knock came again.

My body knew it was Mary before my mind allowed the thought to form.

Her scent pushed under the door, lush and impossible. Rain, sugared blackberry, hot whiskey, and that wild violet blooming made my teeth ache, and my gums throbbed with the brutal, ancient instinct to put my mouth on the side of her neck and mark her so every alpha in the building knew she was ours.

I didn’t move. Hudson looked at me.

His face was composed, but his scent had slipped. The clean rain was laced now with whiskey and the faintest violet answer to hers.

“She’s here,” he said quietly, “we have to let her set the terms.”

“I know.”

“Lincoln.”

“I know, but if I go into a rut, just knock me out.” My teeth ached down in the roots. “I feel this might be the first time.”

“I might be there with you, and I’ll go out into the corridor or lock myself in the bathroom.”

“She might want us to.”

Hudson didn’t pretend to misunderstand me. “Do we ask her how we approach this?”

The third knock came harder. “Have you both died of old age in there?” Mary called through the door. “Which is very inconvenient timing when I’m suffering in a hallway and only have three dildos to help me and none of them do that thing.”

One corner of Hudson’s mouth lifted. “What thing?” he whispered.

I shrugged as I crossed the room before he could tell me not to rush. I opened the door and stepped back at once, hands visible, shoulders loose, every part of me fighting the need to reach for her. “Still alive.”