Gage flips on the light in the kitchen and pulls ingredients from the pantry. He lifts his chin. “Sit. I’ll bake.”
I climb up on the counter by the stove, watching as he works at the kitchen island. He makes a dough and adds herbs and dried flowers.
“What are you making?”
“Lavender biscuits.” He rolls the mixture into a large ball and plops it on a floured surface.
I don’t know why, but watching his tattooed hands pound and work that ball of dough is seriously hot.My throat turns dry, and I look away before I start perfuming. Gage is dangerous to my ability to function. Earlier, I made sounds for him I didn’t know were possible. It’s kind of embarrassing how needy I was.
He doesn’t mind my awkwardness, quietly working beside me. He cuts the biscuits and sets them in a baking tin with practiced ease. The steady hum of his work, mixed with his earthy scent, reminds me of being in his workshop and how peaceful the quiet was.
Gage puts the tray in the oven and sets a pan atop the stove before grabbing more ingredients from the fridge. “Tell me how you wound up with the king.”
The healer doesn’t look at me when he asks the question, and I’m grateful. It isn’t enough to get me talking though. I collect the dishes he’s amassed, cleaning up behind him like I did with my grandmother when I was younger.
With my hands occupied in soapy water, I finally answer him. “Like you, my grandmother was a healer. She gave me a recipe to suppress my heat. When I went to the city looking for herbs I needed, I got caught by an alpha guardsman.”
Behind me, the sounds of Gage’s cooking continue. “Did you live with her before? Is that how you stayed hidden?”
Thinking of my grandmother is always bittersweet. I know she would have liked these men. She wanted a pack for me, and that knowledge gives me courage.
He listens quietly while I tell him about my time in the forest and my village before that. Saying the words out loud to Gage, recounting how I survived—the constant travel, never sleeping through the night, braving the city in disguise—hurts. It's as if a part of me had numbed out what happened and now I feel all of it.
I don't know why talking to him is so easy, but the words flow out of my mouth, probably more than I've said to another in years. I share what my grandmother did to save my mother. Telling him what Grandmother believed about our magic, about who I am, feels safe. No matter what Gage thinks about being mates, he takes his role as a healer seriously.
Gage turns off the stove and pulls me into a hug. It's exactly what I needed, and I let myself give in to the urge to suck in his scent. I sink into his strong arms, burying myself against his chest. It’s silly to be upset about something that happened so long ago and someone I thought I’d already grieved, but emotions don’t make rational sense, so I let the tears come.
His rough voice vibrates from his chest, the sound sending warmth through me. “I’m happy you had her. She was smart to tell you about the magic and prepare you for the forest. I’m sorry for all you’ve had to do to survive. You’ve found your mates now. There isn’t a need to run anymore.” Gage rocks us gently side to side. “They’re strong alphas, and you already have the seed-bonds of a pack. I bet that brings her peace.”
“The brothers?” I mumble against his chest just to be clear. He didn’t exactly include himself.
“Yes, the brothers. They’re the best hunters I’ve seen. They will give you a fighting chance.” His hand rubs gentle and soothing circles along my back.
“You can really see the bond forming?” I ask with a sniffle.
My grandmother always said healers could read auras but not manipulate them. That’s how she knew the bonds were dying. She used to see the energy bonds between mates when she worked as a healer before the ferals. Then, the bonds between wolves started to break.
“The ties are established. If you nourish the connections, they will grow,” he confirms.
“What about you?” My entire face flames, but I push through. “Do you still want me to leave and never come back?”
I wince at how insecure I sound, but he’s been all over the place, and I want to know where we stand.
Those silver eyes of his don’t do much to reassure me. He pulls away to check on the biscuits in the oven, which are done. He sets the tray on the stovetop by the other pan and turns back to me. “Part of me will probably always worry about the end. I don’t think that just goes away. But I’m yours if you’ll have me.”
“What does that mean?” I ask around the giant lump in my throat. All of Gage’s answers sound like maybes.
“It means he’s done being a stubborn ass and is ready to help build this pack,” Dex growls from behind me.
“Basically,” Gage mumbles.
The delicious, toe-curling deepness of Dex’s voice makes me freeze. I’m pretty sure my ovaries just exploded. When I can think around the heat crawling in my veins, I finally turn to face him.
Seeing him in my human skin makes me nervous. He’s rugged, all stark features and thick muscles. Underneath his intimidatingly masculine appearance is my slay-the-monsters-for-me gentle giant. I’m already in love with him—except we’ve never actually really met. How the fuck do you greet a man you’ve crotch-sniffed and want to climb like a tree without looking like a psycho?
Whatever he sees in my expression doesn’t reassure him. Dex’s shoulders slump, and he backs out of the room. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
My wolf nudges me forward, but I'm already moving.