Chapter 11 You’re not even on the board

The Calloway house is better than I imagined. Though I didn’t allow myself to imagine much, if I’m honest. I’m already getting swept away in sexual fantasies and imagining them being my pack, that I don’t have a lot of mental bandwidth left for considering what their pack house might be like.

As it turns out, I probably wouldn’t have been able to imagine this.

I’m used to living in luxury. My father wouldn’t have it any other way, but his idea of luxury is the flashy, splashy kind. You can look at the Carrera marble tile that stretches all over the entire first floor, the elaborate statues, the gilt chandeliers and heavy ornate wood furniture and know that the person who lives in that house is wealthy.

The Calloway pack house is enormous. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of square footage. But its… strangely welcoming, homey. Tucked away at the edge of the city, in the area where there’s enough space and trees between the houses that you can’t actually see your neighbors, it feels remote.

Ren and I only drove for fifteen minutes to get here. But it feels farther.

The house itself is rustic. Stone siding along the bottom half, board and batten and wood across the top. It sits on top of a hill, with a long set of cement stairs leading from the driveway to the house. The landscaping is carefully curated to look like it’s not maintained in the slightest, an array of what looks like plants native to the area. But I’m not an expert.

Inside, I find hardwood floors, cozy, soft furniture, not a single statue in sight, unless you count the little knick knacks no bigger than a foot tall, which I don’t. They’re nothing like the art pieces my father has acquired to prove his wealth.

Jude and Atticus take the lead on the tour, showing me through the first floor with the living room, kitchen, dining room, and an office I’m told Hale and Creed share. There’s a laundry/mudroom right off the back porch. A gym with a cedar wood sauna that smells amazing when we step inside and two bathrooms.

The basement has a giant media room with a fully stocked bar and a screen the size of an actual cinema. I exaggerate, but you get the idea. There’s also a locked door at the end of the hall. When I asked about it, Tic wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling my back to his chest to urge me away from it. “That’s my lab. I keep the door locked because at any given time I might have an experiment going, and someone who’s unaware of that might end up ruining months of work.”

“One time,” Jude mutters. “That happened one time years ago. And you’ll never let me forget it.”

Behind me, Tic sniffs. “It was my thesis project for my doctorate, Jude. It wasn’t a minor mistake.”

I tilt my head up to look at him. “You’re a doctor?” I knew he’s a chemist, though from what I could find out he doesn’t have an actual job, just… researches things on his own. It’s speculated that his research is one hundred percent self-funded, only occasionally allowing investors.

I have my suspicions that my father might be one of those investors.

If he is, then that would mean Tic is likely working on something to unify the designations. Which would be devastating. To me and the world.

“The man’s a genius, and he will let you know it,” Jude teases.

Tic grumbles and tightens his hold on me as we head toward the stairs. His lips brush my temple and he murmurs, “I don’t have any experiments brewing at the moment, angel. I can give you a tour of the lab later if you want.”

As we ascend back to the first floor, I nod. “I’d like that. I won’t know what anything is or what it does, but I’d like to see where you work.”

The four of them exchange a look that seems significant, though I don’t know why. I only spoke the truth.

“The bedrooms are all upstairs,” Hale says, leading the way. My brow furrows at that. I’m pretty sure it’s not normal in a house this size for that to be the case. And if I recall correctly, there’s a door near the gym that we didn’t go into.

But I’ll sleep wherever they want me to. In fact, the idea of sleeping under a roof that isn’t my father’s has me feeling darn near giddy with relief.

Creed grabs my suitcase from by the front door and the five of us make our way to the second floor. “There are two wings,” Hale says, pointing to the right. “Jude and Creed’s rooms are down there.” His finger moves to the left. “Mine and Tic’s are down there. And you’ll sleep here, smack dab in the middle of us.”

I don’t know why that makes butterflies flutter in my belly. Probably some omega instinct I don’t fully understand. “Is that okay?” Jude asks, shifting on his feet. He seems to do that a lot, like he just can’t stay still.

“Oh, yes, that’s great. It’s so great. Honestly, I’m just glad to be here. I’d be happy to sleep on the couch.”

Creed makes a grumbling noise that Tic covers up by saying smoothly, “As if we’d ever let you do that, angel.” He nudges me toward the door, urging me inside. “Let’s get you settled, and then we can talk about dinner.”

Jude laughs. “And by ‘talk about dinner,’ he means he can show you the six meals he’s already prepared and you can pick which one you want.”

He’s teasing Tic, I know that. I’m sure the other alpha didn’t actually prepare six meals for me. Who would do that? Especially when we’re just getting to know each other. But it still makes those butterflies take off again.

The blond alpha pushes open the door before I have the chance, and swaggers inside, flopping down onto the cream-colored bed.

I follow him and look around. It’s very… impersonal. It feels more like a hotel suite than a guest room in someone’s house. There don’t seem to be any personal touches anywhere. It’s nice. Don’t get me wrong, and cozy… well, cozier than the guest rooms in my father’s house, that’s for sure. But it’s lacking that warm welcoming feeling from downstairs.

Silly really, that it bothers me. It’s not as if the pack would spend a lot of time in their guest bedroom. It’s not as though they’d come in here to read and leave their book on the bedside table. Of course, this room doesn’t feel as lived in as the others. It’s not.

Still, my omega, that heavily suppressed instinct in my chest that I only ever faintly feel, hates this room. Hates that they didn’t take the time to make it more welcoming. Jude had said that Tic was anxiously preparing for my arrival, so maybe I’d expected more than this.

But that’s not really fair to them, is it? No, it certainly isn’t.

I smile as I turn to face them, feeling them watching me. I refuse to let them think I’m disappointed, even if I am.

“It’s perfect,” I lie. “Very pretty. Super soothing.” Shut up, Haven. You’re overdoing it.

Tic’s brows lower. Actually, all of them are scowling at me. Creed huffs and sets my suitcase near one of the two doors in the room. The closet, I guess.

“Don’t lie, baby girl,” he mutters, barely loud enough for me to hear. He still hasn’t touched me, has hardly said anything to me since I got here. It’s so different from how it was when we first talked, from that night at The Market that I wonder if now that we’ve had a few conversations he realizes he doesn’t want me, not like he thought he did. “If you hate it, say so.”

I look at him with an open mouth as Hale barks out a laugh. “We didn’t want to do too much. We know most omegas have blankets and things in their nests that they bring with them when they travel to make them feel more comfortable, safer.”

I blink. Crap. He’s right. Most omegas would bring at least a part of their nest with them. But then, most omegas have a nest.

“I’ve never had a nest. Not at home, anyway,” I admit, shrugging. Anytime I’d started nesting, my father ordered the maids and the housekeeper to tear it apart, wash everything and make the bed the ‘correct’ way. It was devastating to see it happen over and over again, so eventually I stopped. Well, I stopped when he got tired of me doing it and barked at me.

It wouldn’t have been a real nest, anyway. I’ve never felt safe enough in my father’s house to fully settle into the nesting instinct. My room has never really been my own. He could come in at any time and ruin any safety I felt with a few well-placed commands.

I realize what I said was shocking, but I didn’t think they’d stare in such obvious horror at the revelation.

“Never?” Jude asks, brow furrowed.

I look back at the bed and then away again. “I had one at the Academy. All omegas do. There’s an entire class on it, which doesn’t really make sense, since nest building is entirely subjective to the person building it. It’s personal, you know? Anyway, when I graduated…” I pause to find a way to tell them what an asshole my father is without breaking one of his commandments. Finally I settle with, “Well, you know his views on designation. They extend to his home life as well, which means they extend to my home life.”

There’s nothing wrong with what I said. In fact, it’s the image my father wants people to have of him. Practicing what he preaches. Just a good man, fighting for equality for all designations, no more Alpha’s only being in control.

Which is funny, because that’s exactly what he is. An alpha in control, with a slew of crazy followers bordering on fanatical in their beliefs. Beta’s mostly. But a lot of alphas as well. I’ve never heard of an omega who supports him… well, except for me. But we know how he’s gained my support.

They’re still looking at me like I’m a breakable thing.

I shrug again, then move over to the closet, dragging my bag inside. “It makes him happy, and my life is easier if he’s happy.”

“Does it make you happy, angel?”

I glance over my shoulder as I set my bag by the built-in dresser. Instinct tells me to unpack and make this place my own, but I push it aside. I’ll leave my things in my bag and try not to make too big a mess. “My happiness doesn’t really matter, not to him.”

There’s a sharp stab of pain behind my eyes as I utter the words, a warning that I’ve crossed a line I shouldn’t. But the meds Ren gave me earlier do their job and battle it back to a dull ache. I suspect that most of my time here will be spent with a low grade throb in my brain.

After all, I shouldn’t really be here.

If my father knew he’d be furious, and the only way I’m able to even set foot into this house is by telling myself he’s never going to find out. Ever. Like never, ever. Not until it’s too late for him to do any about it. Like maybe if I keep sneaking around with the Calloway pack and they eventually claim me.

If that happens, if they bite me, bond me, I could throw off most of his commands by will. My bond with them would supersede my familial bond with my father, and I’d feel less inclined to obey him. It might take a bit, but I could do it. I’m sure.

“That’s fucked up, little mouse,” Hale says, sounding like he means it.

I give him a small smile. “Yeah, well, he’s not the first father to care more about his ambitions than his child. I’m sure he won’t be that last.” Sometimes speaking in generalities helps.

“Would you want a nest?” Tic asks, head tilted. Hale shoots him a dark warning look that I don’t understand, but Atticus ignores it. “If you had the chance to have one?”

My heart flutters in my chest at the idea of having a genuine nest, one that’s all mine. One that the alphas in my life respected as mine, wouldn’t enter without my say so. I want to feel safe. Want to have a place where I can relax fully and hide away if I need to. Cuddle under a mountain of blankets and pillows and clothes that smell like my pack.

But I can’t say that. The directive to support my father’s policies is thundering through me at the same time as that want, that need, that hope.

I don’t want to lie to them either.

“That’s irrelevant at the moment,” I say with another small smile to show them I’m not bothered by it. I won’t have a nest while I live under my father’s roof. I know that. Hoping and wishing for it won’t change that fact.

And right now, I wouldn’t be able to build a nest even if they revealed a room full of the softest, most luxurious blankets and fluffiest pillows. Frederick Bell has declared I will not build a nest, and so I won’t.

Creed curses under his breath and storms out of the room. A moment later, a door slams in the house. Jude gives me a tentative smile and slings an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry about Creed. He’s a surly motherfucker at the best of times. But inside he’s really just a big ol’ marshmallow.”

I hum, staring in the direction he went, only marginally surprised when Jude urges me after him. “What do you want to do first, Button?”

“First?”

Tic and Hale follow us downstairs and into the kitchen. “Well, not first first, because we’re going to give Tic the chance to wow you with his culinary skills first, but when we’re done eating, what do you want to do?” Is it my imagination or is there a suggestive bent to his tone? Like he thinks maybe I’ll say I want to hop on his cock right this very minute or something?

But that’s not me… Not the Haven I am today. While I’m not my father’s dutiful daughter, I’m not the siren Jude met at the club. I wasn’t lying when I told Ren I wanted to come here to get to know them better, to figure out if this could be a forever thing.

I glance at Hale and find him staring hard at me, like he’s not sure who I am, like he’s never met me before and is trying to figure out why I’m here. I swallow and glance away, lacing my fingers together to keep from fidgeting. My father hates fidgeting.

So not doing it is ingrained in me.

Like most of his wishes and desires for my behavior.

“Haven?” Tic prompts when I’ve let the silence linger too long.

I look up to find the three of them watching me. “Do you have any board games?”

Board games are an excellent way to feel out a person. Or in this case, three persons. Because Creed is still locked away in his bedroom. The longer he does this, the more my omega instincts warn that he’s not happy I’m here. He doesn’t want me. And if one member of the pack doesn’t want me, that means the rest will eventually give up on me, too.

It’s the truth. A painful one, but the truth, nonetheless.

I push the feeling aside and focus on getting to know the three alphas who stayed with me, who seem to want to spend time with me.

We’re spread out on the living room floor playing Monopoly. Jude had suggested Twister, but I wasn’t prepared to be all tangled and twisted up with them like that, to have our bodies pressed together.

I know we’d work physically. The way I wanted to climb Hale like a tree the first time I met him was a strong sign of that, as was the grinding I did on the dance floor with Jude and the deep kisses Tic and I share.

The sexual chemistry between us is off the charts and I’m not worried about it at all.

What I am worried about is their character, their pack dynamics. If I choose to be with them, really be with them, defy my father and attempt to stick with them, suffer through the pain of denying the commands placed on me, I need to know it won’t just be more of the same. Trading one prison for another.

I need to keep my head.

And to do that, I need to keep some physical distance between us.

I just didn’t think it would be this hard.

Every glance from the alphas makes my blood heat. Every brush of our fingers as we pass dice or cards or money makes my skin tingle. This is the most erotic game of Monopoly and we’re all fully clothed.

I don’t know what is wrong with me.

No, that’s not true.

This is what happens when an omega finds a compatible alpha or pack.

That’s what’s wrong with me. Compatibility.

I push the physical reaction away and focus on the game, how they react to it.

“Fuck yeah!” Jude crows as Hale lands on his property. “Pay up, motherfucker.” It turns out that Jude is incredibly competitive, though a little fly by the seat of his pants, buying any and all property he landed on with no rhyme or reason.

Atticus is more methodical, thinking through each of his actions before he takes them. I suppose that makes sense for a scientist.

And Hale? Well, Hale is a sore loser. Really sore. The longer this game goes on and the closer he gets to bankruptcy, the sourer his mood gets. Bordering on, dare I say, volatile? Like he’s one wrong word away from exploding and flipping the board. And Jude seems to think that would be funny as hell with how he needles his prime.

Hale folds his arms over his chest and lifts his chin. “No, I’m not paying you. It’s fucking bullshit. You own half the board!”

“That’s the point of the game,” Tic says sardonically. “You’re supposed to own as much property as you can.”

“Well, I can’t buy any property when this asshole gobbles up every single fucking thing he lands on.”

“You’re just upset you’ve been sent to jail three times,” Jude laughs, before holding out his hand in a gimme motion. “Come on, pay up. Unless you forfeit the game entirely. After all, you’re not even on the board.”

I frown at that, because, well, Hale might not be doing as well as the rest of us, but he has three properties. They exchange a meaningful look that goes over my head and Hale gives a sharp shake of his head. “Nope. No chance. I’m gonna win this fucking thing.”

I smile brightly. “That’s the spirit.” There’s no way he’s going to win this game. None. He’s one trip round the board away from losing everything. “But,” I glance at Tic and find him already looking at me, he gives a little nod. “You know I’m kind of tired of playing. Maybe we should… watch a movie or something?”

Jude’s face falls for a second before he brightens. “Twister?”

“The movie?”

“No the game , bellybutton. I want to show you how flexible I am.”

I laugh. “Maybe tomorrow. Tonight, I’m ready to put on pjs and cuddle under a blanket.” My cheeks heat as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Crap. Was that too forward? Maybe they aren’t the cuddling type. Maybe I’m not the cuddling type. It’s not like I’ve ever done it before.

You’re an omega. Of course, you’re the cuddling type.

Omegas need physical touch. It helps us stay grounded, calmer, more settled. For years, the only gentle, caring touches I’ve received have been from Ren, Ginny and their mother, Moira. Unless, of course, there was a photo op. Then my father would hug me, kiss my cheek or my forehead while beaming at the camera.

Any other touch from him has been far from caring.

So maybe, even though my designation craves it, I won’t enjoy cuddling.

But Jude and Tic are packing up the game while Hale crosses his arms and pouts. “I was going to win,” he protests.

Tic laughs. “No, you weren’t. Haven was. Jude never charged her rent. Not once.”

“Look at her! She’s so pretty. I couldn’t take her hard earned money!” My cheeks go pink at the compliment.

“But you could take mine?”

Jude gives him a look. “You’re pretty, Hale, but,” he waves a hand in my direction. “If I’m gonna let someone live rent free, it’s gonna be my bellybutton.”

Hale blows out a hard breath and with it the tension relaxes in his shoulders and the scowl that has been on his face melts. “I can’t say I blame you for that.” He flashes me a charming smile, one that doesn’t feel entirely genuine, but isn’t entirely fake either. He’s probably still fuming over being so close to losing.

Hale pushes to his feet and holds out a hand to help me off the ground. His hand is warm and rough with callouses. His fingers tighten around mine, tugging me closer to his body. My head tilts back to keep my eyes on his face. “Go get changed, little mouse. We’ll clean up the game and get the media room ready. Okay?”

He’s curled over me, and his mouth is just right there. Literally right there. His petitgrain and ozone scent invades my nostrils and, damn, I’m warm. Hot actually. Like really hot. Melting. Between my legs from just this, just our chests pressed together and his hand around mine.

He huffs and amused laugh, and quick as a flash, closes the distance between us. Our mouths crash together. Every one of my boundaries flies out the window. The thoughts about needing to get to know them before we do anything more physically obliterated with my first taste of Hale Calloway.

I moan almost immediately and he chuckles again, pleased with my reaction. I swallow the sound down, press up to my toes to get more of it, more of him. His hand slips to the small of my back, his fingers sliding under the hem of my shirt to stroke the skin along my spine, toying with the waistband of my jeans.

His other hand slides up my hip, over my ribcage until his thumb presses into the underside of my breast. I arch into him, inviting more, wanting more.

With another of those knowing chuckles, like this entire situation, like my reaction amuses him, his thumb moves over the hard peak of my nipple. And I swear I almost come.

The reaction of my body to these alphas is insane. Truly insane. It’s never been like this before, even when I first presented. No other pack or alpha made me respond so viscerally. Hale kisses me deeper, his hand shifting until he can knead my entire breast in his hand, sending bolts of pleasure zinging straight to my clit. “You like that, mouse?”

My answer is a whine against his lips as I strain to get closer.

A door slams upstairs, startling me enough that I jerk back. Hale’s hands keep me from falling, but the moment breaks, my heart thundering in my chest at… well, everything. The sudden influx of adrenaline and the unpleasant odor of an angry alpha make my arousal cool somewhat.

The angry pheromones aren’t coming from any of the alphas in the room with me. No, Creed is the one that’s upset. He must have finally emerged from his bedroom only to walk in on me practically mauling his prime alpha.

If I was concerned that Creed doesn’t want to court me before, now I’m certain of it. I step away from Hale and tuck my hair behind my ear, ignoring the rejection I’m feeling thanks to the surly alpha upstairs.

“I’ll just go… um, I’m gonna go freshen up,” I mutter, like it was my idea and Hale hadn’t told me to do that very thing not five minutes ago.

“You do that,” the prime says, running a knuckle down my cheek in a caress that has my nipples standing at attention again. “We want you to be comfortable here, mouse. Whatever you need.” I give him and the other alphas a small smile as I scurry away.

“I’m on the board now, motherfucker,” I hear Hale mutter as I leave the room. My brow furrows. What does that mean? A glance over my shoulder as I keep moving doesn’t give me any clarity on the question. Jude and Hale are eyeing each other, arms crossed. Hale’s got a smug smirk on his face and Jude looks… well, he looks like he did during Monopoly, competitive.

Tic’s looking at me, watching as I exit the room. He gives me a small smile. One that I think is supposed to make me feel more at ease but does nothing of the sort. It only adds to my unease as I hurry through air thick with Creed’s bitter pheromones, up the stairs to the guest room.