Page 73

Isobel Is Not A Tennis Ball

“I can’t believe nobody thought to bring alcohol.” Moses slumped back to the wall, his long legs unfurling against the concrete ground. “Or cake.”

Isobel stepped over his legs, a trail of streamers dragging behind her.

Cian had cut up the shapes from the cardboard packaging of the food they had consumed in the five days since arriving.

She had no idea what the shapes were supposed to be.

They were impossible to make out. She stepped up onto the office chair to tape up her end of the string as Theodore simply reached up to stick his end to the wall.

“I can’t believe they wanted us to flee for our lives sober ,” Theodore agreed, as his shirt rode up to reveal an inch of muscled stomach.

Isobel wobbled on the chair, distracted by the muscles bunching in Theodore’s arms as he pressed on the tape to make it stay, forcing Moses to shoot out a hand and grip the wheeled base, holding the chair steady.

“If we had known the bunker was perfectly stocked, perfectly connected, and in perfect working condition, we might have packed cake.” Gabriel ducked through the metal door with an apple in his hand, a twig sticking out of it. The twig was on fire.

“Niko’s idea,” he explained, as they all stood up and stared at it in confusion. “Happy birthday. We only have one candle, so you’ll have to blow it out at the same time.”

Mikel, who had been sitting with Kalen on two of the crates from the supply room, stood with a lazy half-grin. When his arms wrapped around her middle, she squirmed in pleasure, gripping his forearms as he leaned over her head.

“Be quick about it,” Gabriel suggested, the fire licking down to the stem of the apple.

Mikel squeezed her, and they both leaned forward, blowing on the stick, which did not at all stop blazing. Mikel tucked his face into her hair to hide his chuckle. Niko plucked out the flaming stick without so much as a wince, and dropped it into a cup of tea, extinguishing the fire with a hiss.

Bellamy stared at the cup, blinking slowly.

“Um, I was drinking that?” He said it like a question, though he didn’t really direct it at Niko.

He was most wary of Oscar, out of all the Alphas, but Niko seemed to come in close second.

Even Maya and Sophia seemed to avoid talking to Oscar or Niko, though Luis didn’t seem to care.

He had fallen asleep on Oscar’s shoulder the other night.

Niko ignored Bellamy, snatching the apple from Gabriel and biting into it.

“Hey,” Isobel said. “That’s our birthday apple.”

His perfect, angular brows inched up over mismatched eyes.

None of them wore contacts anymore. “Come here, then.” He turned the apple and held it out for her, tempting her with a flash of the shiny, unbroken ruby skin.

Somehow, his strong, tanned grip made it seem so much more appetising, and her mouth began to water.

“You going to feed me too?” Mikel asked, his arms still tight around Isobel, not allowing her to take so much as a step.

Niko ignored Mikel just as he had ignored Bellamy, but there was just enough dark amusement in his eyes to have her tensing a little as he approached them.

Suddenly, the apple was right before her lips, Niko’s chest so close he was almost sandwiching her between himself and Mikel.

She could feel the older Alpha tense behind her, the muscles in his forearms jolting.

Mikel didn’t play well with anyone other than Kalen.

“Well?” Niko taunted. “If you want it, prove it.”

She parted her lips against the cool skin of the apple. Niko’s eyes darkened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the fruit harder.

“Get …” The painful rasp jolted all three of them, forcing their attention to Sophia, who was sitting against the wall, reading a book. “A room.”

Before anyone could respond, the apple in Niko’s fist suddenly exploded, his flexing fingers accidentally crushing it. Small chunks broke apart and scattered against the floor, juice rolling over his fist.

“Oops,” he said, turning on his heel and wandering into the kitchen.

Bellamy stared after him, shaking his head. “Are we sure that guy is safe to be confined in a bunker with?”

A book whacked into the back of Bellamy’s head.

“Stop,” Sophia signed at him. She didn’t know many ways to communicate through signing yet, so they were left trying to figure out what she was trying to say.

Only Bellamy seemed to understand, because he grumbled, “You were the one who told them to get a room.”

Sophia held out a hand, demanding her book back, and Bellamy obediently fetched it, delivering it to her. “Anything else, your highness?”

She mimed sipping tea, and Bellamy did his absolute best to look annoyed at being bossed around, but he only succeeded in looking overjoyed and completely in love.

Isobel dropped into a crouch near the edge of one of the desks. Someone had stuck paper stars to the sides, and one of them was already sagging off.

“This is … quite a party,” she said, trying and failing to make the paper star stick.

Kalen tossed her a half-smile as he strode into the room from the hallway that Bellamy had just disappeared down. She hadn’t even noticed him following the Beta. He was returning with a can of questionable chicken in each hand.

“Only because you haven’t seen the cakes,” he said.

“We don’t have any cakes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are those the cakes?” she groaned, pointing at the cans of chicken.

“They’re not not the cakes,” Niko said, a few steps behind Kalen. He approached the table where Kalen had dumped the cans, two more sticks at the ready.

“No more fires in the bunker.” Kalen immediately confiscated the sticks.

There was a rustle at the back of the room, and Gabriel called, “Everyone alive? Have we finished decorating the walls with our feelings?”

“What are feelings?” Oscar muttered, stepping into view with something cradled in his shirt.

“They’re supposed to be stars ,” Cian growled, shooting a glare at the streamers he had made. Now that Gabriel mentioned it … Cian had been frowning up a storm and swearing quite colourfully as he attempted to wrangle the cardboard into submission with the blunted pair of scissors.

“That better not be more kindling,” Kalen said, pointing to whatever Oscar was hiding in his shirt.

“They’re supposed to be candles .” Niko mimicked Cian’s insulted tone, earning him a hard jab in the stomach, which only made him smirk.

At least Cian got a reaction. Isobel was still having to let them know when she poked them.

“Even better.” Oscar unveiled the object with a smirk, holding up a bottle of liquid to the overhead light, the colour a stunning, rich gold. “Unlike the rest of you, I packed the essentials.”

“Oh, thank the gods.” It was Maya who spoke, sounding completely done with every single one of them. She pushed up from where she had created a nest of sorts in the corner of the room for her and Luis, leaving him there to read on his tablet.

A flurry of movement and excitement followed as the others flooded into the room, cups were gathered, and drinks were poured. The whiskey burned going down Isobel’s throat, but it was a hell of a lot better than canned chicken.

Oscar switched his cup with hers when she was finished, sacrificing his own portion, and then Cian started playing music on his phone.

“Thank you,” Isobel said, swaying into Oscar’s chest, the words murmured against his chin as she tried to stand on her toes and pull him down at the same time. He obliged her, brushing his lips against hers in a hard kiss.

“Happy birthday, rabbit.”

“You know it’s kind of fucked up that you call me that,” she said, scrunching her nose.

“Why do you think I call you that?” he asked, dark brow twitching, hands settling at her waist as they began to sway together, not at all on beat with Cian’s music. It was far too lazy for that.

“You said it’s because I act like prey.”

He rolled his eyes. “I lied.”

Her lips tugged at the corners. “Don’t try to spare my feelings now.”

“I didn’t lie about you acting like prey. You absolutely acted like prey?—”

“Wow, I didn’t mean it. Definitely spare my feelings.”

He chuckled, drawing her closer as other bodies began to dance around them, the music turned up louder.

Oscar lowered his mouth to her ear. “But that isn’t why I called you rabbit.

I had a toy when I was little. I called it Little Rabbit.

It was the only thing that brought me comfort after my mom left, when Lily got sick.

She transferred to another settlement, and we never heard from her again.

Then my dad drank himself to death, and all I had left was Lily and the rabbit.

It had these big gold eyes, just like yours, and I just wanted to hold it all the time.

I think I squeezed it too hard because I accidentally tore its head off, but I still have the pieces. ”

Isobel reared her head back, staring at him in complete shock.

“What?” She simply couldn’t picture it, but then …

all of a sudden, she could. She could absolutely picture a scared little boy with dusky skin, hiding from his raging father, floppy black curls over dark eyes as he clutched at a ragged little rabbit.

He narrowed those dark eyes on her, lowering his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Tell anyone that and I’ll hurt you.”

She reared her head back even more. “ What? ”

A lazy grin tugged at his lips as he ducked back down, caressing the tip of her ear again as his large hands slid down to grip her ass, squeezing tightly, pulling her feet almost off the floor. “I know exactly how to hurt you. All I have to do is deny you.”

“Good luck with that.” She sniffed haughtily, pretending like a tangle of something warm and aching hadn’t just bloomed in her gut. “I know exactly how to break you.”

“You wanna push me ?” His laugh was deep and distinctly malevolent. “Are you sure about that?”

Oh hell no . “Yes. Obviously.”