Page 267 of Psycho Pack

His hand is warm in mine as we pick our way down the rocky slope. The wind whips my hair around my face, carrying the scent of rain. I breathe it in deeply, savoring this moment of peace before we have to return to the others and face whatever comes next.

My legs are still a bit shaky from our encounter on the cliff, and I stumble slightly on a loose stone. Valek's arm snakes around my waist, steadying me. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes my heart skip. It's been so long since I've allowed myself to be this close to him, to trust him like this.

We reach the bottom of the hill, and I spot something gleaming in the weak sunlight. A sleek white motorcycle. It must be Surhiiran, but it lacks the usual eye-catching flair. This one's understated enough to not be immediately obvious.

Valek's hand slips from mine as he goes up to the bike and picks up the helmet hanging on the side. As he turns back to me, I catch the glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Safety first, little omega," he purrs, his voice low and teasing as he walks up to me with the helmet.

I arch an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you the one who can't afford another head injury?"

"Touché," he says, his lips quirking into that familiar smirk. "But I insist."

Before I can protest further, he's sliding the helmet over my head. His fingers brush against my skin as he fastens the strap, and I have to suppress a shiver. Even after what we just did, the slightest touch from him sets my nerves on fire.

"There," he murmurs, his face close to mine as he adjusts the helmet, tucking my hair back behind my neck so it doesn't get stuck to my face. "Perfect."

I roll my eyes even though he can't see it through the tinted visor. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it," he quips.

And for once, I can't bring myself to deny it.

Valek swings his leg over the motorcycle. "Hop on."

I don't hesitate. In one fluid motion, I'm behind him on the bike, my arms wrapping around his waist. I press myself against his back, savoring the warmth of his body even through our clothes.

"Hold on tight," he says, his voice barely audible over the engine as it purrs to life beneath us, the vibrations intense between my legs after what we just did up in the cliffs.

I tighten my grip just as he twists the throttle. The motorcycle leaps forward with enough force to make me gasp. We tear down the winding road leading away from the cliffs, the wind whipping at our clothes as the world blurs around us, a smear of muted colors beneath the overcast sky.

As we round a sharp turn, I can't help but let out a whoop of exhilaration. I feel Valek's chest rumble with laughter beneath my hands. He takes the next curve even faster, leaning into it with confidence.

This is freedom.

This is what I've been chasing my whole life without even realizing it.

Not just the wind in my hair or the roar of the engine, but this feeling of belonging. Of being part of something bigger than myself. Of having people who would tear the world apart to keep me safe, and who I would do the same for in return.

Not just people.

My pack.

Chapter

Forty-Four

IVY

Isit on the edge of the plush velvet sofa, watching my alphas prepare for war. The silence in our temporary base is deafening. Even Whiskey hasn't cracked a joke in hours, which tells me more about their stress levels than any words could.

Plague just returned from organizing the troops and spending time with his family. His mother insisted on seeing him before the invasion, though Revi opted to stay behind and help coordinate things from Surhiira. Guess they can't have all three heirs to the throne in combat roles.

The thought settles like a lead weight in my stomach.

I catch Plague adjusting his all-black tactical gear for the hundredth time, his movements sharp and precise.

Too precise.

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