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“Can I have your number?” Lloyd waggled his eyebrows, and I sighed and held out my hand. I plugged in my number while my inner voice screamed at my stupidity.

You’re so desperate, aren’t you, pretty?

Lloyd leaned in close. “My room is right next door, so if you need anything, you can always wake me up.”

“Goodnight, Lloyd.”

I closed the door before I lost my mind and invited him inside. What was I thinking? When I was safely under the covers, my phone buzzed in my hand.

UNKNOWN: Hello honey girl.

TULLY: Lloyd?

LLOYD: I’m so glad we can do this again.

TULLY: Text each other?

LLOYD: Yup. Promise not to block me. I don’t think I’ll survive if you cut me off again.

TULLY: I missed talking to you.

LLOYD: You don’t have to be scared. We’ll look after you.

I went to sleep with my phone in my hand. Clutching to the foolish hope that his words were true.

What would it be like to have Lloyd as mine? Or Walden, the alpha whose family name was as famous as mine. What about Ajax, who filled me with delicious food and welcomed me with such warmth? Or Pan? The brooding, sharp alpha whose long fingers threatened to unravel me?

I turned my head into my pillow and shook off the hopeless dreams.

Baylark Pack deserved someone better than a homeless, useless omega.

11

Tully

A crash shattered my deep sleep, and I bolted upright with a muffled gasp. I blinked as light streamed through the sheer curtains and illuminated the unfamiliar room. Another shatter sounded, along with a muffled shout. My heart pounded as I rolled out of bed. There was the slightest tinge of smoke in the air, and I raced across the hall and burst into Lloyd’s room.

So much for Tully, the independent omega who could handle herself.

With a jerk, Lloyd turned from his open cupboard; his sunlight-drenched blond hair was pulled back in a messy bun. He rubbed the lingering fatigue from his eyes. A shirt fisted in his other hand.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well? Ajax has been cooking up a feast, so I hope you’re hungry.” His boyish, hopeful smile broke into a yawn, and he covered it with his fist.

His pajama pants hung low on his hips and my mouth went dry at the sight of his bare, muscular chest.

Forget the kitchen. Give me this feast.

“What was all the noise?”

Lloyd stifled a grin. “Walden wanted to help cook you breakfast, so Ajax said he could make pancakes.”

At my quizzical frown, he added. “Walden can’t cook.”

I rocked on my toes, taking in a gulp of his scent. It was less potent as a beta, but no less inviting. Salt, sunscreen, and as the sun bled through his open curtains, I could imagine I was at the beach.

Lloyd’s bedroom was cozier than any place I’d seen in the house so far. His white and navy checkered bed was crisp, but a collection of cushions fought for space. He had a small desk set up and a dark wood chest of drawers on the opposite wall. Sports paraphernalia covered the walls.

“You like sports?”