Page 155 of Mark & Don't Tell

And with that in mind, I take a deep breath and head toward the house.

Henry is in charge of dinner tonight, and I almost chuckle when I open the door and a blast of tomato-scented air slams into me. Henry is amazing at a lot of things, but the cooks in the family are Brock and Letti. To his credit, though, Henry makes killer spaghetti and meatballs.

Henry spots us first, glancing up from watching the water. “You made it! And you brought Marco! How are you doing? I heard football is going great?”

The guys crowd in behind us in the mudroom, but Henry hasn’t pieced anything together. He hasn’t noticed my marks or theirs. He hasn’t noticed the subtle change in my scent that identifies me as claimed. Henry’s too focused on my brother.

Marco and I head out of the mudroom, the guys hot on our heels. My chest warms as Marco talks to him about his football season and how the most recent game went.

“Well, that’s great, Marco. I was telling Daria she should—” Henry’s gaze swings to mine, and he cuts off, frowning and breathing in. His eyes slowly drop to my neck, where my marks are on clear display.

I didn’t bother hiding them. I’m proud to be part of Pack Kelly.

“Daria?” he asks.

“I have something to tell you,” I begin, but then Letti and Brock and Nico appear in the kitchen. Henry is still staring at my neck in confusion. Brock and Nico stop their conversation mid-sentence when my scent makes its way over to them. They snap their heads in my direction, zeroing in on my neck. My stomach flutters with nerves. Letti is looking at her phone, so she has yet to realize what’s changed.

“Surprise,” I say, holding out my fingers in a failed attempt at jazz hands.

“Mija, what are you—oh, my.” Letti covers her mouth, eyes widening with delight. “You found a pack? That’s wonderful!” Her gaze flicks to her brother and the rest of my pack. “What are you doing lurking back there? Come in, come in.”

I grimace. “My pack is?—”

“Wait! Mamá, ven aquí.” Letti rushes over to me and hugs me. She feels safe. Truly happy for me, even though she doesn’t know the whole story. Let’s hope that doesn’t change. “How exciting, Daria. A pack. Isn’t it wonderful? And Marco. ¿Cómo estás?”

“I’m good, Letti.” Marco hesitantly accepts her hug.

It took me a while to realize that, with Letti, I don’t have to worry like I do with my mom. Eventually, I hope he can embrace her without worrying if it’s a trap.

Vic’s brothers come in, eyeing everyone in the room, but no one explains. They nod at Vic and the guys. They probably can’t make out the marks I left on my mates’ necks. Before they can say hi to me, they shift to the side to let their mom in.

“Okay, I’m here.” Alma leans on her cane and looks around the crowded kitchen, eyebrows rising in surprise. “¿Qué pasa, mija?”

Letti smiles at her. “Mamá, Daria found a pack!”

“Oh?” Alma looks at me.

Actually, everyone is looking at me. Whose idea was this? I think I might throw up. Okay. It’s fine. Just say it. It’s not a big deal. I open my mouth to explain, but Marco gets there before me.

“She has a pack, and that pack is your brother’s, and they’re scent matches, and they’re worried you all won’t approve, but it’s not like they planned this, you know? You can’t control fate, and Daria has a lot of ’rizz, so of course your brother and his pack would fall for her. Also, if you don’t have anything nice to say, maybe keep those thoughts to yourself, okay? Daria deserves to be happy. Don’t rain on her carnival.”

“It’s parade,” Linc quips.

“Right,” Marco says with a nod. “Don’t rain on her parade.”

Alma and Letti trade looks. Brock’s forehead is scrunched so hard, it has to hurt. Nico’s eyes are narrowed on my pack. Henry’s lips are pursed. Vic’s brothers are staring at me like I grew a second head. My heart hammers against my chest so hard, I swear everyone can hear it. I hold my breath, waiting for an argument. Seven seconds pass and my lungs burn. This can’t be a good sign. My dads aren’t afraid to voice their opinions.

My head pounds, telling me I should probably breathe now, but I’m terrified that’ll break whatever silence has settled over the room and invite chaos.

Vic brushes his fingers down my back.

Fine. I’ll take a breath. Inhaling, I drum my fingers on my pants. “So, uh, yeah,” I begin. “Any questions?”

Alma’s gaze shifts from Letti to her son. It’s almost as if everyone is waiting for her to speak first. She stares at Vic for a beat, then glances at me, features softening. “My son is very handsome, isn’t he?”

Swallowing nervously, I nod.

“And you love him?” she asks.

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