Page 187 of Alpha Mates

“I can’t hear you!” she sings, making me laugh.

“Aye-aye, Captain!” I shout, and now Isabel is whooping as she swings her arm over her head.

“Wait!” Julian blurts, petrified. “What about the other rules?!”

“You’ll figure them out as you go,” I assure him, settling my hand on his shoulder. “They’re not official rules, Jewels. Just guidelines. Don’t worry too much, okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, taking a deep breath as he reaches up to straighten my bow tie. “This oddly suits you, you know?”

“And you,” I whisper, tilting his chin up to steal a kiss.

I swear the feeling of his lips against my own will send me mad with pleasure one day. It makes my entire body come to life, until—flash.

We jerk apart to see Isabel smiling widely behind her phone.

“I’m documenting the night,” she says with a shrug. “For you guys, and for the kids.”

“Kids?” Julian asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, your kids,” she replies like he’s an idiot before she turns and struts towards the house.

“The kids,” I echo, and Julian chuckles, taking my hand.

People are already drinking on the lawn, others in the massive tree out front, and there’s even some weirdo dancing with a blow-up zebra.

But the moment we enter the house, it’s sensory overload on crack.

To the right, people play beer pong over a dining table, and to the left, others lounge, shouting at one another over the music. Straight ahead, a dark room is lit up by strobe lights. The makeshift dancefloor, I guess.

As we pass the stairwell, some guys come sliding down the steps in laundry baskets, and I don’t even want to begin to think about what’s happening in the pool—I can smell the chlorine from here.

Julian and Isabel freeze beside me as they take it all in. To her credit, Isabel schools her features in no time, while he stands beside me like a pup on their first day of warrior training.

“All good?” I ask against his ear, making him jump slightly. He nods, and I’d bet anything that his cheeks heat beneath his make-up. He plasters on a brave smile.

“All good,” he says.

“Drinks!” Isabel shouts, pushing her way to the table covered with all sorts of liquor, leaving us to follow close behind. A few ounces of this stuff isn’t likely to do much to us, but if we got particularly creative with it, then we’d be no better than the humans plastered around us.

“Are you a vodka man, or a beer man?” I ask, turning to Julian, except I don’t know why I even bothered when he looks at me like he’s never heard of either. “Beer it is. We’ll start easy.”

I pop open a bottle on the edge of the table and shove it into his hand before I pour myself a cup of straight vodka.

“My Goddess, are you Russian?” Isabel exclaims as she watches me take a swig from the cup with bulging eyes.

“Just enthusiastic,” I reply with a laugh once I’ve managed to swallow. The shit is vile, but without mixers, eventually it’ll get the job done.

My phone vibrates and I dig it out, grinning when I see the message from Emitt.

“Emitt’s here,” I shout over the music. “He’s in the living room.”

“Shall we?” Isabel links an arm through each of ours, and walks us proudly through the crowd like we’re her henchmen. She stops only to pass a judgemental scowl over some chick’s witch costume.

“Really, Rachel? A witch?” she says with a tsk.

Julian snickers. “You’re sick.”

The place is much bigger than it looks from the outside, with way more rooms than I expected. The second living room is just as packed as the first, but Emitt’s jumping up and down, so I spot him easily. He’s sitting with some of his human friends, Beckett lounging at his side in matching cop gear. If that isn’t the loudest “we’re a couple” I’ve ever seen, then I don’t know what is.