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It made him giddy. I never wanted that to stop.

“You should have made them,” Mackenzie said, popping open the lid on a little glass dish. She fished out a tiny ball of marinated mozzarella, popped it in her mouth before setting it down in front of me.

“No, you don’t eat mushrooms,” Theo said.

“Yeah, but I’m not allergic or anything. You like stuffed mushrooms. Ren likes them. Justice likes them. I just think they are slimy and gross.”

“Exactly,” Theo said like that was all there was to the conversation, effectively banning mushrooms from the Twill household.

Twill.

It still gave me a rush, seeing “Twill” next to my name. Not all packs did the name change thing. Some adopted a new pack name. Some never did. I was more than happy to put Delano in the ground.

Mackenzie stretched her legs out, hooking one over Theo’s. I tugged at the hem of her sundress. I didn’t need a flash of her thigh distracting me. They chatted about food and the upcoming house manager interviews, finishing each other’s sentences, like they had been doing it their whole lives.

I cracked open a bottle of water. It was no longer icy cold. Port Haven was experiencing an early fall heat wave with tropical temperatures. We were tucked in the shade of a giant weeping willow overlooking the Grand Lawn of the University’s botanic gardens. Not only was it cooler, but it also gave us a bit of privacy. It was still public enough to stall any potential meltdowns that might occur.

I had completely chickened out of this conversation once or twice already, and was counting on the semi-public environment to make it easier. For me. Not for them.

I stretched my legs out, propped up one knee, and picked at the pasta salad with my fingers.

“So,” I kept my voice light, “we need to form a conspiracy.”

Mackenzie gasped. “Oh! Are we doing crime?”

“No.” My smile hurt my face.

“I know you’re the professional, but I think we did a rather good job at it during the cruise.”

“Speak for yourself. I am not cut out to be a thief,” Theo said, almost despondent.

“Well, stealing cars is out, at least until I get my license and can be the getaway driver.” She gave me a sharp look.

Justice and I had both steadfastly refused to be her driving instructor. It wasn’t a question of not wanting her to learn, if that’s what she chose to do. We didn’t think we could handle it and be nice in the process.

It was a control issue. We both felt better when we were the one who was behind the wheel. Shit got tense when it was just the four of us in the new SUV he’d bought. Limo service was a little better. But the thought of our omega negotiating a several ton vehicle through the Port Haven streets with little to no driving experience pushed our tolerance. She had yet to book driving lessons herself, however.

I took a breath and inwardly braced.

“Justice isn’t doing well.” Not great phrasing, not that it mattered. There wasn’t a pretty way to deliver that line.

“What do you mean?” I felt the instant anxiety in the pack bonds. “No. But what do you mean?”

Theo twirled his fork in his pasta salad. “He’s not really eating.”

She turned to Theo with another gasp.

“What do you mean?”

“He cooks eggs every morning and never eats them.”

“Well, some people aren’t breakfast people. And he has a chef at work for lunch.”

“He’s not sleeping either.”

“Theo, what do you mean? How do you know that and I don’t know that?”

In the short time we’d been together, I had noticed that if she wound herself up a little, it was easier to talk her down, and she wouldn’t stew on it, so I let her go.