Page 132 of Pack Plus One

“I did not cry,” Liam corrects, adjusting a sweater under my elbow. “I was…disappointed.”

Caleb snorts from his post by the door, his arms crossed over his bare chest, eyes locked on me. “You punched a hole in the drywall.”

The banter flows around me while Mason’s fingers trace idle patterns on my arm.

Gradually, the intensity of the heat flash fades, leaving me pleasantly tired but clearheaded. I remain curled in the nest, reluctant to move from this bubble of contentment.

“Better?” Mason asks, his voice a gentle rumble against my back.

“Much,” I admit, suddenly shy about the whole situation. “Sorry about the... biological meltdown.”

“Don’t apologize,” Liam says with a warm smile. “We…like helping.”

“Plus,” Jude adds, sprawling on the floor beside my chair with casual grace, “now we know croissant-making is your aphrodisiac. Valuable information for future reference.”

I kick at him half-heartedly, but can’t help laughing. “You’re the worst.”

“You mean the best,” he corrects with a wink.

The lights flicker again as another crash of thunder shakes the building. The storm shows no signs of letting up, sheets of water cascading down the windows and turning the world beyond into a blur.

“Looks like we’re here for a while,” Liam observes.

“Oh no. Trapped in a bakery. However will we survive?” Jude clutches his chest dramatically. “I guess we’ll just have to eat more pastries and enjoy the company of a beautiful omega. The hardship is unimaginable.”

His ridiculous performance startles a laugh from me. I look at them—really look at them. Four males who dropped everything this morning to help me with a flour delivery. Who spent hours making croissants with me, their hands in dough, creating something beautiful together. Who built me a nest out of their own clothing when my biology decided to have an emotional meltdown.

“Thank you,” I say simply.

“For what?” Mason asks, his chin resting lightly on my shoulder.

“For this,” I gesture around us—at the bakery with its perfect croissants cooling on the rack, at the nest cradling me, at them in their various protective positions. “For helping me without taking over. For... seeing me, I guess.”

Caleb nods, understanding in his eyes. “We see you.”

“The stubborn parts too,” Jude adds with a wink.

“Especially the stubborn parts,” Liam agrees with a warm smile.

Mason’s arms tighten fractionally around me, a gentle squeeze that says more than words.

And damn if that doesn’t hit harder than any grand gesture.

26

LEAH

My apartment feels eerily quiet after the chaos of yesterday. The pack insisted on seeing me home after the storm finally cleared, making sure I was safely tucked away with leftovers from the impromptu croissant-making session, takeout, and promises to check in this morning. The goodbye at my door was lingering. Some part of me didn’t want to break the bubble of contentment we’d created at the bakery.

Now, surrounded by the echoing silence of my own space, I take a breath. Gaze shifting to my sourdough starter quietly living its life on my kitchen counter. I stare at it for a long while before another big sigh makes my shoulders rise and fall.

Will I see them today? I don’t even know. We’d made no plans, and some traitorous part of me pangs with disappointment. I run a hand through my hair, a groan leaving my throat as I plop back against my pillows, trying to resist burying my face into the sheets to catch the lingering notes of their scent.

What is wrong with me? Am I not the same omega that ran away from them convinced it was for the best? Now I’m lying here clenching my thighs and trying not to think about them.

My gaze shifts back to Fernando. “I’m pathetic, aren’t I, Fern?”

I’ve just brushed my teeth and barely washed the drool from my face when a knock at the door startles me. Probably Mrs. Finley. No. Most likely Zoe coming over to gloat.