Chapter Eleven

Micah

I'm staring. Arguably the worst thing I could do, given Faith's history, but I can't help myself.

She is quite something.

"I wasn't sure what you liked," I say sheepishly, gesturing to the plates of food on the kitchen counter. "So I made a bit of everything."

Faith doesn't so much as glance down. As long as I'm speaking, or even moving, her sharp blue eyes are on me.

Thankfully Jaxon breaks the ice, tearing in like an alpha starved. Caleb picks up a couple pieces of toast on his way out the door. He shoots me a look, his gaze probing, making sure I'm going to be okay.

Faith might not be feral like we thought, but she's still a rogue omega with a lot of trauma. That's just something I'm going to have to process.

I give him a short, appreciative nod.

It's a pretty slow morning. After we finish eating, and Jaxon finishes polishing off whatever me and Faith don't eat, I clean up the kitchen and resolve to make her feel more at home.

"I hope the bath was an okay temperature last night," I tell her, walking us into the guest bathroom. "Of course, you're welcome to run it yourself. The cold-water tap gets a little stiff, but—" I yank on it, demonstrating, "—you just need to give it some muscle."

She chuffs in acknowledgment.

Jaxon pipes up, "Or, if you're more into showers, I think it's that lever up there."

"Right." I point. "Sorry. Should've mentioned."

Next we show her the living room, offering her the TV remote. She's more interested than I expected, surfing the channels with rapt attention. I guess three years is a long time to go without entertainment.

Jaxon and I hover, exchanging glances. Should we leave her be? Give her a chance to catch up on the world?

Suddenly she pulls out her notepad, leaning against the coffee table to write. Jaxon and I lean forward curiously.

THERE ARE ONLY 2 BEDROOMS.

I blush. Jaxon clears his throat.

"Good observation," he says.

She writes something else. ARE YOU ALL MATES?

I cough into my coffee cup. The words seem blunt, but there's no judgement on her fine, scarred face.

"Would it bother you," I find myself asking, "if we were?"

Jaxon snaps his head at me. I ignore him. Though we're living in a major city, there are still plenty of people who don't approve of alpha-alpha relationships—especially between males.

Faith considers for a moment, then writes, NO. SAFER THAT WAY.

I frown. "How's that?"

She flips the page over. BECAUSE I ALREADY HAVE A MATE.

It's Jaxon's turn to choke. "We're not going force ourselves on you, omega," he growls. "Christ, who do you think we are?"

She stares up at him blankly. Those beautiful blue eyes become so cold I can hardly bear to look.

Finally, she writes, SO YOU'RE NOT MATES.

I smile sheepishly. "Just packmates."

Jaxon scoffs. "Don't have to look so disappointed."

With that, he storms off, muttering something about grabbing a snack.

I sit down on the couch, leaving a cushion between me and Faith. "Sorry about that," I tell her. "It must be weird, staying in a den with three unmated alphas. If there's anything we can do to make you feel safer, just let me know."

She bristles, but doesn't move. Just when it seems like she's back to watching TV, she uncaps her marker again.

STILL DOESN'T ANSWER MY QUESTION.

I raise my eyebrows. "What question?"

2 BEDROOMS.

"Oh." I smile. "Well … to be totally honest, we didn't always share. I used to have the guest room, and Jaxon would normally crash on the couch."

BUT SOMETHING CHANGED.

I can feel her eyes on me. Pressing into me. The longer I don't answer, the weirder it'll look, but I'm not sure I can trust myself to speak. Not when, with a single glance, she's begun to unravel the bleeding heart of me.

"Yeah," I whisper at last. "Something."

Faith picks up the marker again, only to stop herself. She sits back in the couch, fixing her gaze to the TV once more.

No longer bristling.

***

Jaxon heads out to run errands, clearly embarrassed by his earlier outburst.

His inner alpha is probably feeling a little called out. I know he'd never force anything on Faith, and I'm sure he knows it too, but the fact remains—it's only been a day, and he's already infatuated.

When he gets back, he's carrying about fifteen pounds of groceries on one arm, and three bags of clothes on the other.

"Can't keep you in Caleb's shirts forever," he mutters, handing Faith the bags.

She accepts with a wary frown.

"It's okay," I say gently when she looks at me. "Go ahead."

With that, she disappears into her room, closing the door behind her. I notice Jaxon staring—not after her, but at me. "Everything okay?" I ask.

"You tell me."

Heat fills my cheeks as I start to unpack the groceries. "I think Faith is settling in well—or, you know, as well as we can expect."

"Uh-huh." He smirks. "She seems to like you."

"I don't know about that." I open up the fridge, willing it to cool me down. "I'm just the smallest. Least threatening."

As soon as the words come out, I want to take them back, but thankfully Jaxon is unfazed. "Give yourself some credit, man. When I left the den, I still couldn't catch her scent. But when I got in just now …"

My head snaps up. Faith is so heavily suppressed that not even her pheromones have been coming through. It's driving my inner alpha crazy.

"What is it?" I demand. "What's it like?"

Jaxon grins. "You tell me."

He's playing with me—riling my alpha up.

And it's working.

Faith's door opens. She returns to the kitchen in a pair of low-waisted jeans and a plain black tank-top. Her midriff is exposed. Her arms are lean, but defined. And god, her breasts —

She holds up the notepad. BETTER?

I wrestle my inner alpha back down. What the hell was I thinking, ogling her like that?

"Yeah." Jaxon's eyes are glossy. "You look great."

She quirks an eyebrow at him before slipping away to the living room. The sound of the afternoon news broadcast filters through the den.

I can only hope she doesn't feel my gaze mapping her perfect body with every stolen glance.