Chapter - Richard

It was a struggle not to stare at Lola as she left. Her scent is imprinted into my brain, and even after she was gone, it lingered in the air.

Dirk claps me on the shoulder, surprising me. I whip around to see the slightly smaller male grinning at me with his trademark smirk. "Talk to yer Second, Alpha. I need yer help."

That said, he slaps the round disk that connects two leather straps crisscrossing his chest. When he does, his physical body evaporates into thin air. He disappears into the trees on a whoosh of wind.

Connall sighs. "You ready for a day of meetings?"

"Never," I mutter, giving my Second a look. "You ready to talk about why you and Dirk seem to keep disagreeing every time I see you together? Is it just the Lou issue?"

Connall's green eyes flash in seeming irritation. "Leighton was a close friend, as you know. Counseling someone so immediately involved in his death is a conflict of interest."

I jerk my head toward the street, and we begin walking past the shops toward downtown Ever. "She had absolutely no control over killing Leighton, Connall. She's a victim in this."

"I know that"—his voice lowers—"and I can't imagine how she feels. I don't think I'm equipped to help her."

I glance at him as we walk. "Are you willing to even attempt it?"

He grits his jaw, a muscle in the square line working overtime. It's clear he's incredibly set against offering his services to Lou, and I won't force him. That's never been my leadership style unless absolutely necessary.

"I've been so busy with the pack since Leighton's death. Everyone wants to talk about him, to share their grief and their joy, and it's horrible, but it's healing. At the end of the day, I'm emotionally exhausted from it."

"There's got to be more to it than that." I hope my words seem like gentle encouragement. "I've never seen you turn down a client."

"Okay, I'm going to admit something, and I don't want you to laugh."

I clap him on the back. "You know I won't."

He stops in the middle of the street and turns to me with a big sigh. "I'm attracted to her. As in soul-deep, eating-me-alive need. I want her." He says it so simply that I ache to share my own news. For some reason, I don't. Maybe it just feels right to talk to Marco first.

Connall looks up the street and winces. "Not only would that complicate any counseling I could do for her, but she and Dirk are a thing. Or they will be," he grumbles, "as soon as Dirk can convince her." My Second looks up at me with heartache clear in his eyes. "He's been asking me to help her for two weeks. I can't say yes and then act on my feelings. Everything about the situation is wrong."

"You're right that it's complicated, but sometimes the best things are."

At my expression, he sighs and rubs both hands over his face. "Maybe I should?—"

A cackling purple figure flies between us, wind rustling my hair as Connall sputters and turns. "Ignatius, you almost hit us," he barks on a warning growl.

Iggy flips in air, a move he's been working to perfect, and zips back toward us, landing on my shoulder. Like every time he picks me for a perch, one hand goes around my head to hang on to my ear. His tail wraps around my neck, the spade-shaped tip slapping flat against my chest. Santa Alaya has very few gargoyles—it's too hot for their liking—and I still feel like I'm getting accustomed to Iggy's open and frequent affection.

"Are you going downtown? I was playing Skyball with some kids, but I've got to go home for lunch. Can you carry me?"

I reach up and tickle his side. "Yes, good job, and yes."

He snickers and pats the top of my head with his free hand. "Okay, let's go because I need to check in with Lou."

Connall freezes, green eyes flicking up to the young gargoyle. "What do you mean, Iggy?"

Iggy lets out a beleaguered sigh. "I adopted her because Dad says we should always help those in need."

My eyes find Connall's. "I promise this is not a plant."

He frowns at me, and Iggy pinches my ear.

"I'm not a plant, silly wolf. I'm a male!"

Connall's cheeks turn pink as he stares up at Iggy. "What do you mean about her needing help?"

"Well," Iggy sighs, "she's living next door at the Annabelle with Catherine since no house has appeared for her. And she cries a lot in her room. I can hear her when I'm outside playing with Kevin. Dad and I make her lots of snacks to cheer her up, and Minnie and I check on her a lot."

I consider Iggy's new pet—Dirk's old hunter hellhound, Minnie—and I'm not sure a flaming dog would really bring anyone comfort, but Iggy means well.

Connall's emotions are easy for me to read as his alpha. Indecision, guilt, worry, regret, resignation. He stares into the distance for a few moments, then back to Iggy and me. "Maybe I should try helping."

"Yeah," Iggy says as if it's obvious. "You'd probably do a way better job than me. She can only eat so many snacks."

"C'mon, gentlemen," I encourage, turning toward downtown again. "Let's go take care of business."

And then I'm rushing home to my woman. I've got ideas for this evening and I can't wait to carry them out.

Hours later, I've checked in at Bad Axe, and the bar's raging as usual, but my bar manager has the crowd handled. I'm not technically on the schedule again for a few days, although I end up here every day anyhow.

I comm Lola, but she doesn't answer, so I head to her place to see if she's home. No answer there, either, and when the treehouse lets me in, it's obvious she hasn't been there for hours.

Worry begins to build as I comm her a second time. That call goes unanswered too. I message Connall to check if he's seen her since we got back, and he hasn't either.

On a whim, I head to my place, wondering if she sought refuge there. Maybe I'll find her on the sofa, playing her guitar. Or waiting for me. Gods, what if I open the door and she's naked, or in the bed edging herself until I get there?

My dick leaps in my pants at the thought.

I pick door B,Big Daddy growls. He laughs when his commentary startles me. Forgot I was here?

You've been quiet.

Need Luna. Waiting for the moment I can speak to her without praying you'll accurately relay my thoughts.

Your thoughts are all about sex, and sometimes, it's not the right time.

Inaccurate. He laughs. It's only about sex ninety-eight percent of the time.

Huffing, I consider that he's correct, for the most part. Aside from random commentary about me needing to manhandle my packmates rather than using words like a grown male, he's mostly focused on Lola.

I mull that over as I ascend my stairs. Her scent is strong here, oranges and cream and jasmine so heady, I pause in the stairwell to suck in great heaving breaths of her.

She's here.

By the time I make it to the top of the stairs, I'm certain she's inside. But I still don't expect the vision when I open the door.

My place is torn apart, all the furniture moved to the sides of the main room. The sofa's been turned away from the glass front wall, and it's piled high with blankets and pillows. The box of photographs I gave her is on the kitchen counter.

Fuck. Yes, Big Daddy moans in my brain. Bring it on, omega.

As my brain catches up to what I'm seeing, Lola emerges from my bedroom, rounding the island with an armful of blankets and clothes.

Myclothes.

T-shirts and sweaters and collared shirts. All of them, seemingly.

She halts and blanches when she comes flush with the door and sees me. The pile falls out of her arms onto the floor.

"Oh, Richard, gods, I'm so sorry. I just…I needed to see you, but you were busy, of course. And so I came here, and the treehouse let me in, and then I just, I just…" She throws both hands on top of her head as if the words have overwhelmed her.

The treehouse is drenched in Lola's scent, and as I cross to her, it flares wild and bright and strong. She looks up at me with those beautiful, startling dark eyes, her pupils blown wide and lips parted. A thin sheen of sweat coats her neck and chest.

I reach out and stroke the backs of my knuckles along her jawline. "You're nesting, Sweetheart."

"I know," she murmurs. "And I'm so sorry I came here and did it in your?—"

Bending down, I silence her protest with my mouth as Big Daddy pants and paces in our shared space. This kiss is tender, adoring, gentle. But not for long.

We part, and I slide a hand up to grip her throat. "My space is your space. Come here any time you want me." Big Daddy's growl enters my tone at the demand.

Her lip quivers. "We said we'd go slowly." She wipes a hand over her brow. "And I know this is fast and messy—we are fast and messy—but I want it, Richard. I went to the church and prayed and Alaya sent wind to brush my cheeks and I, anyways, here I am."

I grin and stroke her throat with the tips of my fingers. "Alaya has already blessed us, Lola."

She covers her face with both hands. "But why is it so complicated? Ugh!"

She's right, it is. So I gently pull her hands from her face to ensure she sees how serious I am.

"Do you trust me to help you figure out your dreams later? Because I don't want you to give up a single one, Lola. I want you to tour and play, and I don't know what we'll have to do to make it work, but whatever that is, consider me all in, ten thousand percent."

Her eyes flash, her hands coming to the bottom of my shirt. She slides them up under the fabric, her fingers exploring the dips and valleys of my stomach. "I do, Richard."

Her words make every muscle in my body tense and achy. I've wanted someone for so long. But I was resolved to be single if I didn't find the right woman. And I don't think I realized how much that hurt inside of me until Lola came along.

"Every minute I spend with you is a blessing," I whisper, pulling her tighter to me. "You're going into heat, Sweetheart, and I can't wait to share it with you, assuming you allow me in there." I jerk my head to where she's turned my sofa into a nest. It's traditional to ask to enter.

She slaps me on the chest playfully. "You better ask nicely, or I'll make you watch me in the nest for a while before you get to come in."

A deep, needy groan rumbles out of my mouth. "Torture me, please, omega. I like the idea of you getting rough with me."

She whines and backs up, pulling me toward the sofa. "Need you now, Alpha."

I halt, pulling carefully out of her grip. "We need supplies, my love. I'm going to run out and grab a few things, and I'll be back shortly, okay?"

She bites her lip, and I expect a protest, but she nods and wraps her arms around her body.

Console her,Big Daddy snaps, but my feet are already moving toward her again.

Wrapping my arms around her, I bury my face in her neck, brushing my mouth along the curve of her delicate ear. "To be clear, this is not a rejection of you or your nest. But when I get in there with you, I'm not coming out for days, Lola. I need to be able to be a good partner while you're in heat, and I won't be rational when we're in the middle of it."

She rubs her cheek along mine, whining softly. "Hurry, Alpha. Please?"

It takes every ounce of grit in me to promise I will and pull away from her. Leaving her alone in the treehouse is the hardest thing I've ever done, every step away is wrong. Big Daddy paces anxiously, on edge and snappish as I comm Connall.

The moment he picks up, relief floods me.

"Connall, I need to see you urgently at my office."

"On my way," he agrees. "I'm with Arkan; do you need him too?"

"Bring him," I command, clicking off. Between the two of them, they can manage Shifter Hollow entirely without me for a few days.

But ten minutes later, they're not at my office yet, and my patience is wearing thin. My dick's a baseball bat between my thighs, my body flushed and hot. It's preparing for her heat, to answer the call of her body's intense need. My omega's upstairs, nesting and hot and ready to fuck, and these two are standing in my way.

Just as I ball my fists and head to the door to find them, they sail through. Connall takes one look at me, slipping both hands into his pockets as he flares his nostrils and scents the air. "I'll be damned, Alpha. Is this what I think it is?"

I snarl, "If you think my omega's in heat, and I look like I'm ready to be in bed with her, then yeah."

I've never spoken this rudely to Connall and I regret not telling him everything about her earlier. He's a great listener; he would have understood. Kind person that he is, he gives me a knowing, happy smile instead of berating me for not trusting him with the information.

"I should have told you," I murmur. "I'm sorry, Second."

Arkan snorts. "Gods, it's fun watching wolves lose their minds when a heat comes around." His smirky expression grows bigger. "We'll handle the Hollow while you're indisposed. What do you need?"

"I'll send up groceries," Connall says. "Sorry it took us a few minutes to get to you; we were with Leighton's folks."

I wave his concern away. "I was due downtown for a meeting about?—"

"I know, Alpha," Connall reprimands gently. "I've got it handled. Where do you want me to say you are, if our packmates ask? You haven't announced taking a mate so I assume this is still a secret? And do you want a heat condom? Have you discussed pups?"

Gods, the politics of this whole thing are a nightmare, and I don't want to fucking hide Lola. But by the time she and I are through her heat, she'll be wholly and irrevocably mine. And knocked up, if I don't do something about that. We haven't had a conversation about starting a family. We were taking it slow.

I give Connall a wry look. "You have a heat condom lying around?"

He laughs. "I don't, but I can send one up with the supplies. Consider it done. You'll have it if you want it. Or not."

Lola and I can discuss it, but it'd be better to have it handy.

Just then, Leighton's parents show up at the door with a giant basket overflowing with snacks and electrolyte drinks. Maren beams at me. "Congratulations, Alpha. We couldn't be any happier for you and Lola."

I stare open-mouthed at the gift basket, shocked. "How did you know about the heat?"

Maren grins. "Oh, it was pretty obvious to us this morning when you dropped by to visit. I looked at Petr and said, she'll be in heat within a day or two, so when Connall rushed off, we made a guess."

I take the basket as shock and gratitude flood through me. This is what it's supposed to be like when an alpha finds his mate. A shared celebration, adoration, and pack support.

"Thank you," I murmur, "for everything. Lola and I are so grateful."

Goddess, there it is, an admission of what Lola and I are to each other. And, fuck, it feels good to say it.