28. Travis

Jane looks like she's about to drop when she gets back from the library. Law hands me a book about etiquette or some shit, but I toss it on the couch, sweeping Jane into my arms and shooting the other guys a scowl. "Wake us before midday and I'll shove that book up your ass."

The basement is cold without the heat on, and Jane shivers, curling towards me with a soft whimper of protest. I make soothing sounds until I've got her on the bed, unlacing her heavy boots and then pausing with my hands on the buckles on her tactical vest. "You okay if I take this off?"

"Yes, please." She shivers again, but she's already squirmed up to my pillow, her face turned to breathe in my scent. "I missed curling up in my pine forest."

I grin, wondering if I should tell her I haven't changed the sheets since she left. We don't get enough laundry supplies to wash more than once a month, which is why I take so many showers. But even if I had a fancy butler like the legacies, I still wouldn't have washed her spring flowers scent off my sheets.

"Can I borrow a shirt?" she asks, eyeing the one I pulled on while she was at the library. She's not exactly subtle, but then, neither am I, dragging it off and pulling it over her head. It immediately slips off one shoulder and before she can tug it back, I press a kiss to her collarbone. She gives a happy little sigh, and I have to force myself to focus on the rest of her clothes. The Trapshot uniform has a ton of zips and buckles, but I eventually get her stripped to the waist, my hands pausing over her chest binder. I've caught glimpses of her wriggling into the thing in the morning and have sent more than one filthy glance in Law's direction. I get that it's part of her disguise, but anything that makes her wince in discomfort should be fed through a shredder. "I can get that off," she says, sitting up, but I place my hands on her shoulders and ease her back down.

"Let me take care of it." It has stretchy straps I can pull through the shirt sleeves, and then I stretch it over her hips, taking her fitted pants down with it.

"I should have taken a shower," she murmurs, her eyes heavy as she gives me a look from under her lashes. "But the locker room isn't the same without you."

I immediately picture her wet and perfect under the spray of a communal shower and almost choke on the jealousy coating my tongue. Fucking Trap Team. I want to ask her what happened – where she slept and if any of those assholes touched her – but it's none of my business. Instead, I calm the raging beast inside me with the reminder that she's in my bed now, looking at me like she wants to lick me all over.

I remove everything but her panties, a blush staining her cheeks as I prop her protective cup on my nightstand. If she's really done with Trapshot, that souvenir is mine.

When I've stripped off my sweatpants, I climb under the comforter and pull her close. As soon as she tucks her face against my neck, snuggling close, the worst of the tension drains out of me. "How long until morning?" she asks, clearly bracing for bad news.

"Not for a few hours yet. And it's not like we have a lot to do on Saturdays."

The rest of the campus either has sports training or gets weekend passes into the local village, but both of those avenues are off limits to Bleak House residents. Something that used to grate at me until right now.

"Good," she purrs, wriggling closer. "Can I be on house arrest, too? That way we can stay in bed all week."

I grin, a contented rumble coming from my chest. "Try leaving and I'll arrest you myself."

It doesn't really make sense given my level of control over our whereabouts, but she gives another happy purr. "I don't want to be anywhere but here."

She goes quiet then, and I guess her thoughts are as tangled as mine. Getting her to safety is all I've been thinking about since we met, but I've been having to fight my instincts every step of the way. Because from the moment she opened those dove-gray eyes and looked in my direction, I've been wrestling with the conviction that the safest place for her is here. With me.

"Do you ever think about after?" she asks softly, her lips skimming my throat. "What life might look like if the war ended, and we got to be whatever we want to be?"

After the war? Is that ever going to happen? We've been fighting Vistria longer than I've been alive and will no doubt keep doing so long after I'm dead.

For my own sanity, I have to accept that each day is just more of the same. Trying not to break some entitled idiot's face while I scrape together an education I might one day use to keep from starving to death. I wasn't kidding when I said my prospects after graduation are gloomy. If I survive three years of conscripted service – which is unlikely, given everyone in my platoon will probably try to use me as a human shield – I'll no doubt get posted to the deepest, darkest crevice in the Civin States. Somewhere even my brothers and the Crimson Claw Rebellion won't be able to find me.

But how can I whine about that, when Jane's prospects are even worse? Law's money will take care of the basics, but life is still going to be hard. She will always be looking over her shoulder, wondering which of her patients is going to sell her out to the highest bidder. Mercies of her power are in high demand on the streets, so how long will it be before she's snatched up by some psycho gangster as his personal healer? They'll drain her dry and then cast her aside, so she can die a miserable, lonely death in some gutter…

I suck in a panicked breath. "I think we should reach out to my brothers."

We talked about contacting them before, but no one was particularly thrilled at the idea, including myself. I know that Kieran and Samuel have good intentions, but they've always put their mission ahead of everything else. People are tools to be used in their war, and while they'd protect Jane because of her power, they wouldn't hesitate to put her in harm's way if it struck a blow against their enemies.

She lifts her head to study me, her finger tracing the downward curve of my lips. "Tell me about them. Kieran and Samuel, right?"

I grunt, because I haven't really spoken their names outside of an interrogation in years. "Yeah. Kieran is the oldest. He's thirty in the spring. Samuel is twenty-eight. They were a package deal even after I was born, always sneaking off and getting up to shit together. They both look like me, but our temperaments are all different. Kieran is ice cold in a crisis, while Sam is a bit more reckless, more likely to trust his gut than to plan things out." I shrug, feeling that strange tug between hope and heartbreak that sums up my relationship with my brothers. "Although, that's based on memories that are nearly a decade old. Who knows what they're like now?"

"But they're still trying to get in touch with you."

She's talking about the spy who was caught on campus and is no doubt being interrogated as we speak. I didn't recognize his name when the MPs shouted it at me, but I hate the thought of anyone risking their lives because of me. Which, I guess, is why I'll make a really crappy soldier, and a guy like Manson will be a general before he's thirty.

"They reach out every couple of years. They promised our dad they'd look after me, so I think it's just muscle memory now."

I like thinking about my dad even less than my brothers, so I distract myself the best way I can. Rolling until Jane is pressed under me, I stare down into her bottomless gray eyes. They're almost the same color as my mom's, and people called them dove gray. Which I guess suits Jane pretty well, since just looking at her makes the war in my head fade away.

"I don't want you to leave."

It's not fair to put that burden on her, but I can't help it. When we smuggle her off campus on Friday, I'm pretty sure I'm going to lose my shit. And once I get over my stomping and seething, how the fuck am I going to survive with a crater in my chest? "More than anything, I want you to be safe, but I can't see how I can make that happen unless I'm with you."

She gives me a soft smile, reaching up to cup my cheek. "I feel the same way. Not about my safety, but leaving you guys is going to hurt so much. What happens if Drew makes a deal with the wrong person, or if the bullies start up on Avery again? Law is a lord and legacy, but what if they go after you because of your brothers?" Her fingers feather over my scowl lines. "I'm worried about Luke, too. He didn't say much about what happened to him, but I know it was bad, and I can't blame him for hiding."

I feel a flash of shame at the concern in her eyes. I've never really taken much notice of my housemates, beyond making sure they don't trespass on my turf or hog all the groceries. But in only a few days of knowing us, Jane is already invested in our wellbeing.

As for Cutter, I don't know what to think. It makes sense that he's some kind of chameleon, given how rarely we've interacted, but I need to know more. I've taken enough anatomy and biochemistry courses to know that whatever he did to Jane wasn't just a trick of the light. Military tech maybe, or a type of cellular manipulation, like Avery said. Vistrian alphas have developed claws and fangs, so who's to say this isn't another survival mechanism?

I'm all for Jane being able to camouflage herself from a safety perspective, but I need concrete answers, and that means getting my hands on the ghost in our attic. How does Cutter's power work? Who else can do it, or is it a one off? Are there lingering side effects or any possible downsides that could backfire on us? And why the fuck did the cagiest guy on campus choose Jane – my Jane – to share his power with?

The truth is, my hindbrain is still on high alert, trying to convince myself that Jane's really here and not a figment of my dreams. When I walked into the living room, and she was there – without really being there – I almost panicked. It was her scent, her voice, the silky smoothness of her skin, but not being able to look into her eyes was a new kind of torture.

Which, I guess, is her point about leaving. Once she's gone, I won't be able to protect her, but she won't be able to protect us either.

"Yeah, well, no matter what happens, we'll do better at looking out for each other."

I say it to put her at ease more than anything, but she smiles at me like I just promised to protect them with my dying breath. "That makes me so happy, Travis. I know you guys have your differences, but I care about you all. If I could, I'd take every one of you with me and we could be together, just like we are now."

"Is that what you want?" I think of the way she watched that sappy movie the other night. A cute little omega gets herself into countless ridiculous jams, only to be saved by the bad boy alphas from the wrong side of town. She didn't have a speck of Jane's commonsense, and the alphas were mouth-breathing neanderthals, but the group chemistry was pretty hot. I particularly liked the part where they spent her heat in a nest and didn't leave until she was wearing a ring of mating bites. "You want to make us your pack?"

"No. What? I'm not a breeder, so it can't ever happen." The denial trips off her tongue, but she grips my arm tighter, a pretty blush climbing up her throat. "It's just… I want you all safe. And there's safety in numbers…"

Her pupils have blown wide, her lip caught between her teeth as her scent thickens in the air. I was mostly just teasing her about the pack thing, but her reaction sends a bolt of heat through me like a fiery catapult. I wait for my possessive side to rise up, urging me to claim her for myself, but to my surprise, it's not there.

Huh. Maybe the idea of sharing her – with certain ground rules – wouldn't be so bad if she really wants it.

"You want us all to look after you, baby?" I ask, my voice dropping an octave as I prop myself on my elbows. She squirms under me, her chest brushing mine, and it's suddenly a lot harder to fill my lungs. "Maybe tend you through a heat and give you a pretty necklace of pack bites. Would you like that, Jane?"

I don't really know what the hell I'm talking about, except for the pack fantasies I've watched in porn, but Jane blinks her big eyes at me, her mouth falling open a little. "We could take turns kissing you all over," I go on, demonstrating with a few teasing licks down her neck. "And if you wore my bond mark, I'd never leave it alone. I'd be kissing you right here, over and over, until you got sick of me."

I can't resist sucking her soft flesh into my mouth, my teeth grazing the perfect place on her throat to mark her. It's probably a step too far, and I'm kind of expecting her to shrink away, but she grabs a chunk of hair at the back of my head and lifts her hips, grinding against me. The helpless mewling sound she makes goes straight to my dick, and I freeze, trying to get a leash on my instincts. Jane is still arching up against me, but when she feels me go still, she falls back against the mattress, her gaze looking anywhere but at me. "You guys deserve an omega who can make a proper nest. I – I could try, but I haven't been taught. My gift showed up early, and then I was sent here to train. I don't know…" She bites down hard on that pouty lip, and I want to lick the embarrassed heat from her cheeks.

"You don't know what, Jane?"

"I know the biology of a heat, and all the phases and terminology, but I've never had one." Her lashes flutter, hiding her eyes, but I can smell her arousal like a siren's lure. "In the shower with you was the first time I've had a proper slick."

I'm ambushed by need so strong, it's a physical pain in my chest. I want more of it – her shy blushes and soft mewls, and all the slick she's willing to give me. In fact, I want to drown in it, so that I know she's as lost in pleasure as I am, but I also don't want to screw this up.

As if puberty wasn't bad enough, I've spent the last decade under the watchful eye of the military. I've been with exactly two women – an older beta who worked in the boarding school I was at before this one, and an alpha student who was kicked out of Sentinel Academy for starting a fire in the portrait gallery of the Honor Hall. "I'm not exactly experienced, either," I admit, smiling at her surprise. "We're not called the Bleak House freaks because of the orgies we throw. I mean, there's the curiosity factor, but most of the girls in our orbit think that treason is contagious."

She scowls at that, and I wish I hadn't opened my big mouth. Way to remind the omega of your dreams that she's scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to eligible alphas.

She has every reason to pull away now, but she sits up, her scent wafting around me as she presses a hand over my galloping heart. "Am I your first omega, Travis?"

It's on the tip of my tongue to tell her first and last if I have any say in it, but I manage to swallow that back and just nod. She absorbs that admission for a moment, then asks in a breathy voice, "You've never knotted anyone?"

And now my dick isn't just hard, it's throbbing, the muscle at its base stirring to life like it's trying to salute her. "Uh, no. I mean, like you, I know how it works, but I haven't put it to the test."

I want to cringe at my awkwardness, but Jane doesn't look surprised. There are plenty of alphas who only knot the omega they mate, mainly because we outnumber them three to one, but also because it's a highly intimate act. And while there are a few omegas on campus, most of them are either working in administrative roles or are the mates of senior officers. Mercies are a breed of their own, and off-limits because of their power. Which means an unmated, available omega is rare, which is one of the reasons no one has worked out Jane's true identity.

"But do you want to?" Her dove gray eyes flick over me like a brand. "If I could produce enough slick…"

I pounce before my brain can catch up with my body, stealing the tantalizing words off her lips. As our tongues collide, she grabs my shoulders, her legs hooking around mine. The cold metal of her ankle monitor bites my skin, but it barely registers. She's giving herself to me in every way, and I run my hands all over her, my head spinning as she arches into my touch. I suck on her bottom lip as I slide my hands under the t-shirt and tease her nipples. They're hard against my palms, and I can't resist inching the fabric up and tasting them, her thighs tightening around me as I suck the sweet buds .

I'm still wearing my boxers, but they almost melt off my body when she reaches down and palms my cock. There's no stopping the pre-cum that soaks the fabric, the scent of alpha musk thick enough to choke on. Jane gives a hungry whimper, reaching under the waistband to stroke my shaft. Lust burns up my spine, and I sink a finger into her heat right as she squeezes my knot.

Mercy help me.

"I want it all," I tell her in a near-growl. "Your slick, my knot, and all the heats and ruts where we bury ourselves in each other." I take a shaky breath, forcing myself to lean back. "But I want more than that, too. I want you to wear my mating bite, and I can't do that to you while I'm stuck here, unable to protect you."

"I want that, too. I don't know much about bonds, but I feel connected to you already. The thought of leaving you…"

Tears pool on her lashes, and I groan, bending down to kiss them away. "Which is why I can't knot you or bite you, baby. As much as my instincts are screaming at me to do it, I can't tie you to me until I can give you everything you deserve."

And we've just established that could be never, given the leash the military has me on. Frustration burns through me, and for a moment I hate my family with every fiber of my being. Why couldn't I be like Law with his perfect pedigree, or even that asshole Manson? His dad's a hardass, but he's got a bright, shiny career ahead of him. I might think he's a trigger-happy meathead, but any omega would consider herself lucky to be the mate of a future general. And from what Law told me, Manson's been circling her like she's a target and he's the only crossbow bolt on the field.

Not that I'm about to step back and give either of them a clear shot at Jane. She's free to work out her feelings for them – and the whole pack idea, for that matter – but right now she's here. In my bed. And I'm going to make sure she knows exactly how badly I want to keep her here.