Page 109 of Altius
“What are we having?” I asked
Her amber eyes sparkled with quiet delight. “You’ll see.”
“Well, I’m starving.” Cal pulled her in for a bear hug, swaying with her in his arms a few times before leaning down to sneak a proper kiss. “Can’t wait.”
A blush suffused Morgan’s cheeks as she ducked out of Cal’s embrace. She retreated a few steps down the driveway to walk beside Owen, where she assumed she’d be safe from further romantic overtures.
“Is this cutting into your time with Tabitha?” Morgan asked.
“Not at all,” Owen said.
His elbow awkwardly jerked forward, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. I suspected Owen wanted to take her arm but didn’t dare to. Another futile elbow jerk prompted Owen to shove his hands into his coat pockets.
Looks like someone was upset about missing his chance to kiss Morgan.
“Tabitha always turns us loose once Edith finishes fleecing Joaquin at poker,” I said, laughing at my mate, not our head alpha. Mostly.
“Which she managed in record time yesterday.” Wyatt trudged back over to the group, kicking snow off his shoes. “Barely lasted two hours.”
Joaquin lobbed a hasty snowball at Wyatt’s back, missing by a country mile. “Hey, don’t lie. I let her win.”
“Right,” Wyatt drawled, leading the way to the side door.
It swung open, and Rory all but tumbled out, along with a pair of yellow Labradors. “You’re here!”
A shorter, heavyset man with blond hair and a majestic beard greeted us from the doorway. He was about sixty, and in full possession of the soft allure and beautiful features you only found in omegas.
“Come in, come in. I’m Martijn, but you can call me Papa.” Martijn Van Daal beamed at us as we stepped inside, giving us each a welcoming hug. “I’m so happy we were able to make this work. Know you’re a bunch of busy fellows.”
We entered a spacious kitchen, where Kelsey was manning the stove, creating a symphony of mouth-watering aromas.
“Hi, guys,” she called, giving us a quick wave as a timer went off. A tray of fluffy homemade rolls emerged from the oven.
“Let me take your coats.” A woman with bold green streaks in her brown hair approached with a smile. She smelled of sun-warmed violets—a fellow beta. An adorable toddler clung to her leg.
A few of my nerves melted away.
“I’m Holly,” the woman said, “one of Audra’s mates. Not that I expect you to remember. It takes a few visits for names to stick.”
“I help,” the little girl said, reaching her plump little hands toward me.
“Thanks, Liv,” Morgan said, caressing her niece’s head, then gave me a wink and motioned to my neck.
I duly handed over my scarf to Liv before letting Holly take my coat. Rory had gathered most of the other jackets and led his niece through the kitchen, heading into a mudroom connecting the main house to the garage.
A second toddler girl ran after them, with a doll under each arm and a dress-up tiara on her head, shrieking something that sounded like, “Wait for me!”
“That was Cece,” Morgan said, guiding us through the kitchen. “Liv is quieter. Not much, but enough to tell them apart.”
We followed her into a nautical-themed living room, where Christmas chaos still abounded. Piles of presents surrounded the tree, and a trash bag overflowing with wrapping paper sat in the far corner.
Morgan’s three other parents stood by the fireplace in a well-practiced receiving line. It wasn’t their first time meeting a prospective pack.
Well, hopefully, we were a prospective pack.
Keon, also known as Dad, was the tallest. An alpha who smelled of cedar and suede, with mahogany skin and springy gray hair. He had a firm handshake and a booming yet warm voice.
Exactly the type of man I wished could have been my father growing up.
