Page 57 of The Flavor of Us

Chapter twenty-seven

TATI

The past few days have beenperfect.

I wake up surrounded by warmth and the lingering scents of my Alphas. My nest has never felt more like home, and it’s not even fully mine. But with them curled around me, tangled in soft blankets and pillows, it feels right.

Every day starts with a kiss from Carleen or Ashton pressing a warm cup of coffee into my hands. Ryder usually gives me one of those quiet smiles, the kind that feels like it’s reserved just for me. It makes my heart stutter every single time.

I’ve been floating—thriving.

At Euphoria, my sets have beenon fire.I feel lighter, more confident, and when I step off stage, I know I’m coming home to them. To all of them. But even as the days blur into each other, a routine forming effortlessly, something’s been nagging at the edges of my mind.

Carleen.

She’s been working herself raw in the kitchen. From sun-up to long past sunset, she’s hunched over counters, sleeves rolled up, her brow furrowed in concentration. Ashton and Ryder try to keep her in check—bringing her water, stealing bites of her creations to make her laugh, pulling her into fleeting moments of rest.

But it’s not enough. She's stressing over the final touches—as if nothing we’ve done all week has loosened her up in the kitchen. I’m at my wit's end and I don’t know what to do.

And today, as I’m curled up on the couch with an oversized sweater swallowing me whole, watching Carleen dart around the kitchen while Ashton chops something and Ryder stirs a pot, I feel that worry gnawing at my chest. The bond is tight, rigid, compared to the warmth from when Carleen and I first bonded. I don’t know what’s wrong.

I’m munching on something citrusy and sticky—an orange-glazed pastry that Ashton practically shoved into my mouth earlier with a playful wink. But my appetite’s fading as I watch Carleen pause, one hand braced against the counter, the other pressing into her lower back.

She looks tired.Her cheeks are a little pale, the glow of her peaches-and-rain scent duller than usual. Ashton notices too. His knife stills against the cutting board, his head tilting as he watches her. Ryder catches on seconds later, setting down the wooden spoon and stepping closer. But before either of them can reach her, Carleen takes one step back from the counter—then stumbles.

The plate in my hand drops onto the coffee table with a loudclink.

“Carleen!” Ashton’s voice is sharp as he lunges forward, catching her before she hits the floor.

Ryder’s there too, his strong arms wrapping around her waist as they ease her gently onto one of the kitchen stools. I’m off the couch before I can even think, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood as I rush over. My breath is caught somewhere in my chest and my hands are trembling.

Carleen’s head is tilted back, her eyes squeezed shut as she tries to steady herself. Ryder’s kneeling in front of her, one large hand braced on her knee, the other hovering near her cheek. Ashton is crouched on her other side, his brow furrowed, his hand clutching hers tightly.

“Alpha…” My voice comes out small, shaky.

Her eyes flutter open, brown meeting hazel, her lips pulling into a faint smile. “I’m okay, sunshine. I just… got a little lightheaded.”

“No,” Ryder growls. “You’re not okay, Carleen. When was the last time you actually ate something? Or sat down for more than ten minutes?”

Ashton’s jaw ticks as he exhales sharply through his nose. “He’s right. You’ve been pushing yourself way too hard. The menu isfine.”

Carleen tries to wave them off, but her hand trembles in Ashton’s grip and it only makes my stomach twist harder.

“Enough,” Ryder says, standing and crossing his arms over his chest. His blue eyes are hard as they lock onto Carleen’s. “You’re done for today. That’s not a suggestion.”

Carleen’s lips press into a thin line like she’s about to argue, but then she catches my expression. My hands are clutched to my chest, my lower lip trembling as I try to keep the tears from spilling over.

Her shoulders sag. “Okay,” she whispers.

Ryder nods once, his sharp gaze softening slightly before he looks at Ashton. “Get her some water. And something to eat. I’ll get her settled on the couch.”

Ashton moves quickly, grabbing a glass from the counter and filling it with water while Ryder bends down, one arm sliding under Carleen's knees, the other supporting her back. Carleen grumbles under her breath, something aboutnot being an invalid,but she doesn’t fight him as he lifts her effortlessly.

I step back, wringing my hands as Ryder carries her to the couch and gently sets her down. Her head falls back against the cushions, her brown eyes briefly closing before fluttering open again to look at me.

“Tati, sweetheart,” she says softly, her voice weaker than I want it to be. “Don’t look so worried. I’m okay.”

“You’renotokay, Carleen,” I whisper, stepping closer until I’m perched on the arm of the couch. “You scared me.”

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