Page 21 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

I was not prepared to be living in a pack house with a nest.

Or in what’s obviously the omega’s room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“It’s so... well... organized,” I say, but my voice is too shaky and he has to hear it.

I can’t let on how uncomfortable this makes me. A beta wouldn’t care. Hell, a beta like me would probably relish living in a player’s omega room.

But for me, real me, it’s fucking terrifying.

“I think I should sleep on the couch,” I repeat, as if I’ll be able to convince him.

This is too much. I shouldn’t be here. I back away but bump into him during my hasty retreat.

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome. I thought you should know there’s an extra room here. I’d rather you didn’t go in. It’s for... well, you know who it’s for. Whoever she is, she wouldn’t like someone else in her space.”

A gritty growl vibrates from my chest before I can smother it.

I would not want another omega in my nest.

It’s mine. My pack is mine. My nest is mine. The whole fucking house is mine.

“I’m sorry, Izzy. I shouldn’t have shown you.”

“It’s fine,” I grumble. “I’m glad to know it’s there. I’m just epically uncomfortable sleeping in an omega’s room in a pack house. Please let me stay somewhere else.”

He tilts his head at me.

“You’ll sleep where I put you,” he says, the alpha intonation clear. It’s not really a command, and there’s no compulsion to follow it, but it’s obvious he’s tired of arguing.

“Yes, alpha,” I whisper and drop my gaze to break the eye contact.

His chest rises and falls, betraying how his breathing speeds. His smoky, umami scent fills the confined space until there’s nothing else for me to inhale.

Words perch on my lips to demand he stop breathing in all the clean air.

In a better circumstance, he might step away. He might insist on the distance. He might let me run or, hell, even agree to my request for another room.

But Patrick Wyatt does none of those things.

He steps forward, his chest so close it brushes against me when he breathes in.

Fire burns in my belly, and I fight to remain calm and clearheaded. My slick immediately soaks my panties. I’m desensitized to Brad doing this, but I’m not sure I’ll survive it if Trick and the others assert their natures around me. Even the suppressants might not be enough for a daily barrage.

“Is there something wrong with my home, beta?”

“No, alpha,” I reply.

He uses a knuckle to lift my face to him. “Is the room not to your liking?”

Prickles of anxious energy burst in my chest. On the one hand, he can’t know why it upsets me, but on the other, I don’t know if my poker face is good enough from 18 inches away.

“It’s very nice,” I manage.

“But?”

“I can’t sleep in your omega’s room. I’m not your omega.”

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