𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒎𝒆𝒈𝒂 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒆
Janelle Raphael is the most formidable, ruthless, and feared Alpha in America. As the leader of the Dark Moon Pack, the largest and most powerful pack in the country, she has forged her reputation through strength and unwa...
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"If you don't stop being so damn cute, I might just do something we'd both enjoy—right here, right now."
Janelle's breath brushed against the shell of my ear, her nose nuzzling the sensitive spot below. A shiver ran down my spine, and I felt my knees threaten to buckle.
How can she say things like that so casually? I'm sure my face is redder than the tomato sauce simmering on the stove.
Behind us, someone cleared their throat, a not-so-subtle reminder that we weren't alone. But Janelle didn't care. Her arms tightened around my waist, and she pressed her face into the crook of my neck as if I were the only thing that mattered in the world.
"So, what's my beautiful mate making?" Her voice hummed against my skin, and her hands slipped into the front pocket of the oversized hoodie I wore. Well, technically, it was hers—but she insisted I keep it.
(Um... your friends said they were craving spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread... so I offered to make it for them.) I focused hard on stirring the sauce, trying to ignore the way her breath warmed the nape of my neck.
The sauce thickened, rich with herbs and tomatoes, but I nearly forgot to add the meatballs when I felt Janelle's fingertips trace lazy circles along my stomach. My heart pounded like a drum.
Behind us, I heard footsteps shuffle toward the door. Then, with the creak of hinges and a soft click, the house fell into silence.
I blinked. (Where did everyone go?)
(Emergency at the packhouse,) she replied, her lips grazing my temple.
(Don't you have to go?) I glanced over my shoulder, watching for any sign she'd leave too.
(Nope. They can handle it. Unless... you want me to go?)
(N-no, I was just asking...) I lowered my gaze, stirring the sauce a little too vigorously.
(It's just us tonight. Is that okay?) Her voice softened, a gentle warmth curling around my heart as she pressed a lingering kiss to my cheek.
(Yeah...) I tried not to sound too disappointed. I wanted them to taste the food I made—Lillian had even asked me to play chess with her after dinner. I hadn't played a game with anyone in... years.
But at least Janelle would taste it. Maybe she'd show me more movies like earlier today.
The thought made me smile as I lowered the heat on the burner.
"Hey, Liam." Her fingertip poked my cheek, drawing me back to reality.
(Yeah?)
"Would it be okay if we went out tomorrow?"
She's asking me? That's going to take some getting used to.
(Um... yeah, sure.) I plated the spaghetti and handed her the first dish.
Her eyes crinkled as she smiled, and she pulled open the fridge, grabbing two cans of Sprite before disappearing into the dining room.
As I filled my plate, my mind wandered to earlier. Lillian and Alexander had introduced themselves when I woke up. Gamma and Delta—and mates, just like Janelle said. They were kind, even when I couldn't speak, and Lillian brought me a notepad with a little green frog on it so I could write instead.
They showed me the house—how Janelle had built it to live with her best friends and future kids. I didn't know people lived like this... together, happy, building a future under the same roof.
"Baby, can you bring me a straw? Second drawer to your right!" Janelle's voice echoed from the other room.
(Okay) I set my plate down carefully, following her directions. I grabbed a straw, two sets of forks and knives, and carried our plates to the dining table.
As I placed her food in front of her, I shifted nervously.
I hope she likes it.
Her hand brushed mine, and our eyes met. Her smile could outshine the stars.
And in that moment, I knew—if this was my new life, I could get used to it.
