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Anton turned fully then, eyes narrowing just a fraction. "Careful, little girl."

My breath caught.

Not because he looked angry. He didn't.

No. I'd poked something that stirred and rose in him like a bear rearing its head. And I loved it.

And obviously he shared something else in common with his pack mates. It really shouldn't have surprised me.

Anton leaned in just enough to brush his thigh against mine, his voice low. "You think you can brat with no consequences, sweetheart?"

I flushed. "Maybe. Especially as we've not discussed limits yet."

Drew laughed low beside us, clearly delighted. "Oh, she has you there, brother."

I giggled in response before Drew draped an arm around me.

"I wouldn't suggest poking the bear, pretty girl. He has a mean spanking hand."

"I like poking bears," I said defiantly, even as my breath went a little breathy.

Anton reached out then, not to touch, but to hover his fingers just beneath my chin, not quite making contact but the near touch doing way more to my insides than it would have if he'd actually gripped me. "Keep going and you might find yourself bent over that log over there."

I swallowed. My thighs squeezed together.

Message received, Sir.

He pulled back, like nothing had happened, calmly opening the cooler and handing me a bag of marshmallows before taking out a couple of long sticks.

I took it with trembling fingers, my heart thudding like a drum.

And yet. I felt safe.

Seen.

This was the closest I've come to feeling like I belonged in a very long time, and I was starting to hope that maybe, this pack business was everything it promised to be.

"So," I ventured after taking a deep breath. "Does that mean I have to call you Daddy too?"

Anton growled, Drew laughed, and I giggled so hard I nearly fell off the log.

I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Chapter 17

Anton

She said it so casually, like it wasn't the kind of word that could undo a man.

I growled as I froze mid-reach for the marshmallow bag, the sentence landing with the precision of a sniper shot. Straight to the chest, right through the armor I'd worn around it for as long as I could remember.

And straight to my aching cock.

Christa didn't even look at me. She sat between me and Drew, legs tucked up, eyes on the firelight flickering through the trees, but I saw the smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. She knew what she was doing.

Drew made a sound like he was trying, and failing, not to laugh. "Oh damn, Omega. You've broken him."

"It doesn't take much," she replied tartly. "Plus, I didn't mean to."