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This was exactly the life my parents didn’t want me to have. I felt even more out of place with my baggy clothes, damp at the knees. Walden pressed his palm down on a data pad. Two white panels slid to reveal an elevator, and he held the opening with a long arm. Walden raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to follow. His scent burned in my throat, another reminder of his power and my weakness.

“You’ll be safe here.” Walden’s eyebrows bunched together, misinterpreting my uncertainty.

The last time I’d seen Walden had been my parents' funeral, and I’d been too mired in grief to notice anything but theburning in my stomach. I’d lashed out and asked him to leave. Walden Baylark always drew an unreasonable reaction from me.

He made my mouth dry. Terror and attraction wove deep into my stomach and tossed the contents until I swayed with nausea. I was about to enter a rabbit hole. A sense of foreboding washed over me.

“My things?”

“I’ll get them,” Ajax offered.

Lloyd hovered next to me, his expression soft and patient.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised, offering me his hand.

I slid my fingers between his, letting him draw me into the small space. Anxiety pushed me closer, and I squeezed his hand in an iron grip. The elevator opened with a soft ping and I shuffled after Walden’s broad back, trying and failing not to gawk. Clean lines, white with wooden accents. The entryway led into an open plan lounge area and kitchen. It wasn’t the house that made me swallow hard. But the faint, mingled mix of scents, like the jacket I’d pressed to my mouth as I came.

Baylark Pack smelled too damn good.

We neared the source of an echo of raucous laughter. Walden’s shoulder blades jammed together. Lloyd’s hand tightened around mine and he nudged me behind him.

“Lloyd, I’m a mess,” I protested as a hot flush prickled over me.

Clothes were an underrated shield. Wasn’t that why I wore black instead of the pink I longed for? With my hair styled, make-up on, and a tailored outfit, I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t.

I hadn’t had a proper conversation with anyone but Fenella, Thorn, or Clay for months and the prospect made me want to shrink into my oversized outfit and disappear.

“Nobody cares,” he assured me with a comforting smile.

It didn’t stop me from using his body, especially when the laughing alpha came into view.

He didn’t notice us at first, chatting on the phone. He lounged on top of the kitchen counter, his combat boots balanced on one of the rattan stools. A dusky nipple peeked out from his tattered, stretched tank top. Lean muscle carved his bare skin along with a smattering of tattoos that looked more like scribbles. He turned and his brunette curls fell lazily over his forehead. His mocking smile froze like a hovering blade as he took us in.

I could never forget the sight of those narrowed, black-lined eyes.

It was the alpha from The Barracks, the drunk one who called me angel.

“Daddy’s home,” he sneered, throwing his arms wide. The stool wobbled precariously.

Daddy?

Walden stiffened like a statue, growling under his breath.

“Pull yourself together, Pan,” he ordered, jerking his head towards Lloyd and me. “We have guests.”

Pan cut Lloyd a look, double taking when he spotted me huddling behind him. There was no recognition. I fisted Lloyd’s shirt like an anchor.

“This is my friend, Tully,” Lloyd introduced.

My body trembled at his back, and he remained still, allowing me to hide.

“Ajax will insist on whipping something up. He’s incredible in the kitchen. What foods do you like?” Walden asked, emptying his pockets on the bench.

A warm plane melded against my back and I squeaked, halted from moving as two hands wrapped around my shoulders.

“Now, don’t you smell yummy?” rasped Pan.

How had he moved so quickly and quietly from his perch on the kitchen bench?