Page 66 of Pack Favero

“Youaremy home,” she whispers, emotion clogging her throat as tears fill her eyes, making them appear glassy. She sniffles before laughing and wiping her face just as a single tear falls, and then she shrugs with a blow of raspberries. “You know what, I’m in. Where you all are, I want to be, always.”

“That’s one of the best things I’ve heard in all my life, little lady,” Alek decrees, and the smile on Zira’s face slays my heart and makes me fall that much deeper in love with her. And, when she’s ready to hear it, I’ll shout it from the bloody rooftops. For now, I’ll let her rest and heal before I finally confess how deep my feelings run and finally mark her as mine.

I can’t fucking wait.

Chapter 22

Zira

Two weeks have passed since my abduction and escape, and two weeks have passed since the guys have made any kind of move to be intimate with me.

Does that mean I’ve grown a little prickly over those fourteen days? Perhaps. Does it mean I’m currently in the gym with loud music blasting and working out all of the energy that keeps building without the relief I’d grown addicted to over the weeks? Absolutely. Am I also avoiding my alphas, blocking out the two I’ve bonded with so they don’t sense my irritable mood, and spending longer in the gym to avoid being tip-toed around? Without a doubt.

Is it driving me mad?As a godsdamned hatter.

I know they mean well, and they’re doing what they think I need to help me heal mentally, but what they don’t understand is that I’m okay. I’m more than okay. My cuts and bruises are all healed, with only a faint scar left over on my foot from the worst of them. The concussion took a little over a week to heal, the damage minimal enough that I’ve only suffered with a few headaches and the occasional dizzy spell that seems to have faded over the past five days. My scent is back to normal, only now it holds the faintest hints of Ford and Mac’s scents, our bonds fully formed and beautiful. And, to top it all off with a pretty bow, my mental state has only suffered in minimal, dealable ways. I’m a little jumpier than I used to be after Hunter managed to sneak up on me, and I get a little anxious in small rooms, but otherwise I’ve been able to deal with what happened in my own way.

It only took those twenty minutes that I was awake forwhen the guys brought me home for me to make peace with what happened, because seeing all five alphas cuddled on the bed or holding my hand as he slept at my bedside told me everything I could ever need to know. These alphas, my pack, will be there for me whenever I need them. They’ll sleep beside me after a traumatic deal, they’ll hold my hand and offer me comfort, and they’ll pamper me until I’m over-pampered and prickly, and they do it because they care. They’ve been with me every day for the past two weeks while I take time off work to recover, each of them abandoning their work duties to ensure I’m hydrated, fed, and comfortable. They want to look after me. Protect me. And I know that I’m always safe with them, because I trust them and I love them.

Which is why it’s driving me up the godsdamned wall that I’ve had several needy moments in the past two weeks and I’ve been gently, and somewhat lovingly, rebuked at every turn. I know I should probably be a little more messed up after what I went through, but knowing I survived, got out, and came home to the men I consider my family has put a lot into perspective for me. I’m not a meek, little omega who needs coddling. I’m not afraid of my own shadow. And I don’t waste my days terrified that Hunter will somehow return to lock me away in his weird basement dungeon again. After the childhood I had, of constant struggles and worries, I’ve built an extreme endurance to certain things in my life, and when I think of Hunter and what he did, I think of a spoiled, little, rich boy who wanted what he couldn’t have and decided to take it instead. I’ve seen enough of it over the years that it made it somewhat easier to cope with what happened, and sorting through my emotions and feelings about it has been enlightening for me.

Would I want a repeat performance? Of course not. But I know now that I’m a lot tougher than I thought I was. I can deal with things like my mother taught me, I don’t have to be nervousaround men all the time, and I can get myself out of a rocky situation if I believe in myself enough.

And I can do it all because I have my pack. I have two bonds that tie me to two of the five best men I’ve ever met, who love me and cherish me, and test my sanity with every single day they coddle me with kisses and cuddles and demand that I rest. And, as much as I love them for caring for me and ensuring I’m okay, and I truly do appreciate it, I can’t help the grumpy emotions I’m experiencing for wanting them in every way and only getting the cutesy, loving side.

I’m done resting. I’ve been done resting.

So, while the heavy thundering of the bass shakes the walls of Alek’s gym, I crack my neck back and forth and stretch out my back, limber after my pilates, and dive head first into several tumbles and jumps and all sorts of routines that syphons the pent-up energy out of me. I lose myself to the freeing rush that soars through my body as I tumble from one corner of the mat to the other with a sequence of round off’s, back handsprings, whip backs, and several other tumbles that leave me breathless and sweating.

Once my energy is depleted enough, I decide to simply fool around a little longer, opting to spend as much time here rather than in the suffocation chamber that is my new home. My home since we moved everything the day after Mom’s spa day. It took very little time to gather my things and transfer them from the apartment to the guy’s house, only taking two trips to move everything I wanted to keep, and when I broached the topic to Mom on the Sunday, she laughed in my face and said, “I’ve already had this conversation with your charming Englishman and that devilishly handsome professor, Zee. Get rid of the apartment, move in with your new pack, and stop worrying so much.”

When I asked her what she was going to do when sheleaves the care facility if I ended my tenancy agreement, she quipped, “Well, now, that’s a conversation for you to have with your beaus. Do compliment their nails, though, won’t you? They chose colors that reminded them of you.”

And, sure enough, I brought up the topic to my alphas, but not after complimenting Lazarus’s minty-green nails, and Barnes’s fiery-orange French tips. I have no idea how Mom convinced them to get their nails done with her, but that was the least of my concerns. Because when I asked them what Mom was talking about, I was told that the care facility they’ve paid for wasn’t just a care facility.

In my naivety, I didn’t think to look more thoroughly into the place my mom was residing, only to feel like an idiot when I learned Ashfell Square is actually a home for the vulnerable and disabled. Since Mom won’t ever walk without a cane again and refuses my help, she’s eligible to live there as a long-term resident, and it’s being funded entirely by the two men who got their nails painted to match my eyes and hair. I couldn’t be mad at them when they shared that tidbit, because their logic was sound. They didn’t want me getting angry because I assumed they were throwing money around like it was nothing. But I know better now. I know they’re doing it to care for the woman that raised me, and in turn, caring for me. Plus, the crazy lady has made several friends at her new home, and I’m pretty sure there’s a man who has a crush on her that resides only three doors down, so I’d hate to steal her away from the life she’s built for herself there, even if I miss her like crazy.

I’m coated in a layer of sweat as soon as I come out of my last tumble sequence, my shorts and sports bra suctioned to my body, and I shake out my limbs as I bob my head to the pulsing music that surrounds me. I roll my arms back before finding a spot in the middle of the mats and falling to my hands, kicking myself into a handstand, pointing my toes to the ceilingbefore I begin my balance training, dropping my legs into side splits before rotating into front splits. I repeat the motion several times before twisting my body and tilting, landing in the front splits on the mat. From there, I go about pushing my torso flat against my leg while stretching myself out, repeating the motion with the other leg by rotating from front splits, to side splits, to front splits again where my left leg is stretched out in front of me now instead of the right. Once I’m done, I maneuver back to the side splits and lay flat on the mats, reaching my arms out right in front of me. And then… I just lay like that for a little, taking deep breaths as I control my air intake so I don’t cause a stitch, my mind floating right back to my pack. My alphas. Their heated looks, their fervent touches, and the lack of action I’ve gotten in two fucking weeks.

I smell them before I see them, but I don’t move my body from the relaxing position, frustrated and agitated and all other words ending in ‘ted’ words that convey my annoyance. I’m content to remain on the floor until I find the energy to move again. I do, however, tilt my head to the side, finding all five of my alphas watching me in various positions.

Alek is sitting on the floor, elbows resting on his knees as he hangs his arms off his legs, his hair still in an elaborate braid I twisted it into earlier with the rest tied in a man bun. He’s only wearing his gym shorts, sneakers, and an amazed smile, and I ignore the way my body reacts to the sight of him since everyone else seems to be.

Lazarus is leaning against the doorway with one arm crossed over his chest, his hand tucked beneath his other arm that holds a bottle of water, his patient emerald eyes watching me intently, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile. Barnes has his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweats, the hood of his hoodie tucked over his head while his sapphire eyes sparkle as he runs his gaze all over my body.

And the twins, with their matching white shirts that outline their toned muscles and basketball shorts that show off the strong corded muscle in their legs, both stand with their arms crossed as they watch me with knowing smiles and heated eyes, and I roll my eyes at them both before turning my eyes away, that irritation I’d worked out of my system coming back five-fold now that they’re here watching me. Apparently, all it takes is a glance from them now and I’m perfuming and needy and left wanting, and I’m all too aware that I’m probably feeding my emotions down the bond to Ford and Mac without meaning to. Seems I forgot to continue blocking them, and now they know exactly what state of mind I’m in, their matching bright, pale-blue eyes lit with both hunger and amusement.

If I didn’t love them so much, strangle them…with rope.

My lips twitch at my internal dark joke, wondering how long they’ve been standing there if I’ve only just now scented them, and deduce that it’s probably a little while based on their comfortable positions.

I see Alek’s mouth move as he speaks, but the music is so loud that I raise an eyebrow at him as if to say ‘I can’t hear you, doofus’, and he rolls his own eyes back at me before he climbs to his feet and walks over to the speaker.

As soon as he presses pause, the gym falls into a charged silence, and I can almost hear the beating of my heart against the floor as I look them all over again before blurting, “Is this an intervention or something?”

My words probably come out a little snippier than I intend them to be, but I’m officially sex starved and needy and in dire want of several orgasms that will put me to sleep until tomorrow morning. I went years without a cock or a knot and went about my life just fine. Several weeks of flirting, of knotting and coming, and bonding has clearly spoiled me like the omega that I am, because I’ve never been in a more moodier mood thanI’ve been in all day. Even Alek mentioned something when I accidentally tugged his hair a little too hard while I was braiding. Hell, what does an omega have to do to getherhair tugged around here?

“Whatcha doin’, little lady?” Alek finally asks, breaking the silence before he slowly walks to where I’m still lying on my stomach with my legs still in the splits and my arms stretched above my head.

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