Page 37 of Juliet & Her Romeos

Except, that’s the problem.

Swan’s method of protection is snarling and flying into a vicious fight that usually ends up withhisass getting kicked by the Dance Master.

Ineed to protectSwan, from himself more than anything.

There’s no way I’m telling him that.

Instead, I hum in agreement.

All of a sudden, Swan yelps and scrambles to his feet. Then he leaps across onto the bed.

“What is it?” I demand.

“Roach,” Swan pants, pointing at the wooden floorboards next to the wardrobe.

I peer at the small bug, which is scurrying back into a crack. “It’s only a beetle.”

“You say that like it’s any better,” Swan says, aghast.

I hide my smile, pretending to shoo the bug away. “You’re safe.”

I stand, stretching. Then I stroll to join Swan on the bed. The nest is warm and smells of not only both our mingled scents but the ghost who’s missing: our Alpha.

Yet he’s a man who doesn’t know that he should be here between us.

Swan meets my gaze like he’s thinking exactly the same thing. “We’ll only be safe, when we have our own pack.”

I hold Ambrose’s jersey to my nose, breathing in his scent. “We don’t know that he’s—”

“We do.” Swan reaches to entangle my hand with his. “The academy is ablaze with gossip about the CEO having returned from running the English branch of the company. I know that Amby came back for us.”

“Don’t.” Sharply, I pull my hand away from Swan’s. “He left, and in four years, he hasn’t bothered to send us a single message. He’s said only three sentences to me, and I’ve never spoken to him. He wasn’t my friend, even if he was yours. How can you…?”

“He’s not our friend. He’s our fated.”

“That’s a myth.”

“It’s a fact.”

We glare at each other.

“Go away.” I pout.

Swan arches his brow. “This is my bed.”

He has a point.

I snatch the blanket and wind it into a snake shape, before worming it between us like a barrier. “Then stay on your side of the nest.”

Swan bursts out laughing. “Is this an Omega thing? Do you get territorial about your nest?”

I can’t help laughing too.

When have I been able to stay mad at Swan?

“Maybe? Nests are new to me.” I playfully edge the blanket further and further onto Swan’s side, until he’s laughing even more brightly and squirming dangerously close to the edge of the bed. Finally, he’s balancing like the incredible athlete that he is in order not to fall off. “Definitely an Omega instinct thing. I’m claiming nesting rights.”

When Swan lets out a gasp, waving his arms wildly like he’s about to topple off, I hurriedly grab the blanket and toss it to the bottom of the bed.

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