Page 80 of Altius (The Scent of Victory #2)

Fifty

Morgan

W hen I came to, it was almost ten-thirty the following morning—and I was nuzzling my mark on Wyatt’s skin.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbled, voice syrupy with sleep and satisfaction. “Needs tending.”

After giving the wound a few licks for good measure, I eased back, taking a good look at my bite for the first time.

It was on the right side of his chest, just beneath his collarbone. It was misplaced, as far as traditional mating bite locations were concerned, but thankfully easy to hide with a shirt.

Just like my tattoo.

No, exactly like my tattoo.

I abruptly sat up, looking between the colorful rings inked into my skin and the location of Wyatt’s bond mark in disbelief. Not only were they in the same place, but they were also roughly the same size.

Wyatt rolled onto his back and gazed up at me with a boyish smile.

“I might have had something to do with the placement. Sensed you were about to bite and shifted at the last second.” Reaching up, his fingers traced an oval beneath my right breast —the location of his own Olympic ring tattoo. “I wanted us to match.”

My head throbbed, and not because I’d missed the designated time for my morning pills. “You thought that far ahead?”

“Of course. Haven’t you?” Wrapping an arm around my waist, Wyatt pulled me back down, urging me to resume tending to his bite. “I’m not saying that I have to bite you on the ribs. Given that you’re going to wind up with four bites, you’ll probably want a symmetrical—”

“Four?”

I tried pulling away again, earning a reproachful huff from Wyatt.

“You know how to count, Morgan. Don’t make me do it for you.”

“But we’re months, and I mean months , away from that. Your brother and I haven’t even kissed.”

Wyatt chuckled. “I’ll agree to disagree. About the timing, not whatever you get up to with Owen. I might have come around to the whole pack idea, but when it comes to sharing…” He shuddered. “Thanks, no thanks.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you,” I said, pressing a lingering kiss against his bite.

Memories of my recent threesome with Joaquin and Alijah, as well as hazy impressions of multiple hands touching me at once during my heat, made me pause.

“At least I don’t think I would.”

Wyatt laughed. His pleasure echoed through our bond, a loose sort of contentment, like a cat lazing about in the sun. Basking in radiance. Underpinned with profound love.

Leaving me limp with awe—and overcome with the urge to apologize.

For ever doubting how much this man cared about me.

Stunned that simply pressing my lips to his skin could inspire quivers of happiness. How repeated kisses made Wyatt writhe and our bond pulse with pleasure. That a thorough lick could flood us both with heat.

The more I toyed with his bite, pushing the limits of our newfound connection, the harder Wyatt got.

Which only made me want to tease him even more.

“You want me?” I murmured, tracing his bite with a fingertip.

“Need, baby. I need you.”

“Fine,” I said, reaching for the lube. “But you have to behave.”

He couldn’t touch me unless I tended to him first.

One kiss against his bond mark earned an answering stroke of his finger inside me. A thrust for every lick or suck. Prolonging our joining for hours—until at long last, when the bite began to take on a silvery sheen, I allowed Wyatt to fill my pussy with his rock-hard knot.

I lay sprawled across his chest, a sweaty yet satiated mess, panting hard. Content to float there, enjoying the ebb and flow of our bond and the steady beat of his heart.

“We gotta get going,” Wyatt said reluctantly, trailing his fingers through my tangled hair. “Flight leaves at five.”

Grumbling, I buried my face against his chest, wishing we had just a little more time to ourselves.

But he was right. Reality was inevitable. We both had work in the morning. I was way overdue for my meds.

And I had no idea how things were going with Kelsey.

Or if Cal’s movers had arrived on time.

Excited by the prospect of Cal welcoming us home, I rolled away from Wyatt, taking the comforter with me. I slowly eased onto my feet, trying to remember where I’d dropped my bag the night before.

“You shower first,” I said, shuffling over to the dresser to put on my glasses. The feeling of our bond stretching behind me was strange, almost ticklish. “I’ll order food.”

Wyatt sprang up, looking better than he had in weeks. Maybe even months.

“Can’t we shower together?” he asked, trying to wrap his arms around me from behind.

“No. We’re on a deadline.” I shook him off and padded toward the living room. “And my head might explode if I take my pills late and on an empty stomach.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry, didn’t mean to get carried away. I’ll be quick.”

I turned, watching his perfectly sculpted backside disappear through the bathroom door, smiling as the bond continued to stretch and stretch, only to choke on a panicked gasp when he closed the door—and it flickered out of existence.

Terrified that something horrific had just happened to Wyatt, I staggered toward the bathroom, clutching at the comforter to keep my omega from going wild, only for the bond to brush against the side of my heart, as featherlight as the breathing of a wounded bird.

Standing there, cold sweat dotting my brow, terror still rife on my tongue, I felt the echoes of Wyatt’s continued happiness as he turned on the shower and began humming an old love song.

I took two steps backward, praying to whatever mystical force had tied me to this man— to my mate —that the bond would remain.

My unanswered prayer landed like a sucker punch.

Gone. It was gone again.

What the hell was going on?

The room began to spin.

Calm down, I told myself, forcing my feet toward the living room. Get your phone. Waning syndrome might make bonds unstable for a few days. Look it up—right now—before you freak out and make Wyatt injure himself rushing out of the shower.

My bag was on the bistro table by the kitchenette. I dropped into a chair and struggled to unlock my phone with trembling fingers.

Messages from Alijah and Joaquin were interspersed with dozens of updates from Rory, a complete photographic record of Beaufeather’s relocation, and Kelsey’s move to her new apartment.

But I didn’t have time to look at them. I needed answers—and fast.

A few quick searches yielded meager results. Waning syndrome might weaken bonds, but there wasn’t anything definitive enough to satisfy me.

I needed Cal. He would know. But he was in the middle of moving…

Was it worth risking a call to Owen?

Glancing at the clock, I realized we had less time to eat, pack, and get to the airport than I’d realized.

Food and pills first, I decided, reaching for the room service menu.

I’d just finished ordering a mix of savory and spicy food when my phone vibrated.

Audra was calling.

While I was tempted to let her go to voicemail, I knew my elder sister wouldn’t call if it weren’t important.

“Hey, Audra.”

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to answer,” she said. “I hope I’m not interrupting your unromantic trip to a dreadful city with a repulsive alpha you’re definitely not dating.”

Dating? I had to laugh.

Wyatt and I were a permanent item now—something my family couldn’t find out about until later. Maybe even much later.

It was too risky.

Landon and Amir already knew that I was with Cal and Wyatt thanks to Rory’s screw up. The entire football team might know about us by now.

But if word got out that I’d bonded a coworker without filing the appropriate paperwork first, we’d both be out of a job.

“I can’t tell if that’s the laugh of a satisfied omega or not,” my sister teased.

“No comment.”

“Fine, keep your secrets. Just wanted to let you know Quinton got confirmation from Brizo House. They received the settlement money.”

“That’s great. Thanks for letting me know.”

Now I could put every unpleasant encounter with Coach Garvey firmly behind me.

Childish laughter and the voices of Audra’s mates were faintly audible in the background. Only then did I realize she was the ideal person to ask about what a new bond felt like, having been through the process three times herself.

“Hey, while I have you,” I said tentatively, wrapping the comforter tighter around my shoulders. “Settle a silly dispute we’ve been having—what does a mating bond feel like?”

“Why, thinking about taking the toothy plunge?”

“No, just curious. Wyatt says it’s like a ball of yarn following you everywhere.”

“What an immature interpretation. It’s much stronger than that—like a second heartbeat made of sunshine and security. Constant reassurance.”

The certainty of her answer made the bottom of my stomach fall out. But I still had to ask, just to be sure.

“Even when they leave the room?”

Audra let out a peal of throaty laughter. “What kind of nonsense have you two been watching? It’s called a bond for a reason. Your souls are woven together, like emotional chainmail. It’s unbreakable. It wouldn’t matter if they left the room or the planet. Our bond would still be just as strong.”

“See,” I said with forced lightness, blinking back tears, ignoring the dozens of thorns digging into my scalp, “I knew I was right.”

Oh, how I wished I wasn’t.

***

By the time our plane landed in Northport, Wyatt’s oblivious happiness was the only thing holding me together.

Even if you took the unintended bonding out of the equation, we’d still overdone it on the sex. Pain radiated from every joint in my back and my ass was numb, despite sitting in first class.

I’d also overindulged on trigger foods, using our trip as an excuse. Hadn’t consumed enough water. My pill timing was screwed up.

What an inauspicious start to my daily life without Kelsey.

I wanted to curl up in the library nest with several gallons of water and snuggle with my cats for three days before facing another human being.

But I needed to talk to Cal immediately—hopefully before Rory got his sticky paws on me, insisting on a full tour of Kelsey’s apartment and the new, improved Beaufeather’s.