Page 239 of Harley & Her Ferals

A couple of weeks ago, licking pistachio gelato off spoons together in the kitchen, I’d raised the suggestion that Feral try using his Alpha Bark with all of us in bed.

To be fair, I should have chosen a different moment to ask.

Gelato time, after a delicious dinner cooked by River, when he treats us to one of his Sicilian meals, has become our favorite times of the day.

Possibly, Feral’s the most.

Feral has barely eaten more than a handful of foods before.

Every pack member is showing him a world that’s wide and beautiful and overflowing with love.

Our Beta soulmate makes sure that we never run out of chocolate chip gelato.

Feral finds it hard to say that things are his favorite because in the Underworld that was never a question that anybody bothered to ask him.

His brother, as the adopted son, was offered the best of everything. Lionzio’s preferences had the Beta servants scurrying to make sure that it was supplied.

But who cared what the freak in the cage liked?

Now, however, River makes sure not only to ask Feral his opinion, but to then stock the fridge with his favorites.

Laurent does the same with the rest of the house.

Feral’s happy but bewildered expression every time that one of us takes the time to check what he wants, before something as simple as making tea or coffee, both breaks and heals my heart at the same time.

In the same way, I raised whether the others would like to experience Feral’s Alpha Bark.

Feral had told me how much he’d like to try it with the other dynamics, since he never has.

Yet he knows how strong his dominance is.

He didn’t want there to be a risk that any of the others agreed but were actually unwilling.

He knows too much about being forced.

River leaped to his feet, however, waving his spoon around in excitement (enough to send a freezing blob of ice cream flying onto Harbinger’s cheek). “Mio re, I thought that you’d never ask.”

Harbinger tapped his messy cheek.

River smiled, sheepishly, before leaning down to lick the ice-cream off Harbinger’s cheek.

“It doesn’t force me, right?” Laurent’s jaw clenched. “I’ve suffered Alpha Commands. I’m not a fan.”

I grasped his hand. “Dad used Alpha Commands against me, and Alpha Barks are nothing like them. They don’t force youto obey. Instead, if you choose to, then you’re rewarded with overwhelming pleasure. You’re in charge.”

Laurent’s gaze slides to Feral. “What about our Alpha? How does it feel for you?”

“It’s th-the best f-feeling.” Feral tilts his head. “Like being complete.”

“Overwhelming pleasure.” Harbinger counts off on his fingers. “And making my Chief Alpha feel complete. Count me in.”

Now, Feral’s almost black eye has darkened in desire to fully black.

His rumbling growl echoes around the room.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise. Feral’s dominant pheromones roll over me.

I can smell the slick that rushes down Laurent’s thighs.

---