Sugar Coated

37

Andres Ibarra

Delaney's eyes were too big in her face and Em's sweater hung limp between my fingers. She was an easy read, distress written plainly on her face in the way her eyes searched my face and shadowed everything I did in her room.

It was just like Em and while I'd definitely noticed it before and even made comments about it to the pack, I had never quite clocked how eerie it was until just now.

She roused the same protective and comforting instincts in me that he did and I'd leaned into her to catch a hint of her scent to read what she needed for me, but she'd met me halfway.

I locked into place as soon as I felt her soft skin against my face pressing the scruff along my jawline.

She stayed there for a beat before hesitantly pulling back from the embrace, as she retreated I imitated those same movements of Jax's that came second nature to him with Em and nuzzled her face.

Doll had just tried to scent mark me.

She drifted back down onto the flats of her feet, swaying like she'd blow over just from the fan that was spinning above us and I caught her arm to keep her steady even though she'd yet to relinquish her grip on my jacket.

She glanced around her room again, cataloging everything with an eye that was more discerning than mine before she righted a few things on the nearby table, adjusting them right or left for a moment before settling again.

I tried not to be too obvious about my interest in the room itself, but there was no helping the reaction I'd had the moment she'd let me in here.

I wasn't foolish enough to not see this room and immediately equate everything in it with Em. The decorations, the privacy, I looked back at the bed over Doll's head and the way the room smelled faintly of the pack, from the clothes that had been squirreled away. Something is going on here that I don't have the full backstory on.

Doll pulled me to her dresser and I watched her with a more critical gaze than I had before, ticking off every single box I could that made sense.

"I uh...should grab clothes for a few days right?"

I nodded, "Would you like me to—?" I reached for one of the drawers the handle on it fashioned like a blown glass bubble.

"No!" She met my hands halfway a look that far outpaced worry on her face, bleeding into something like fear before she smoothed it out again within the space of a breath, "I c—can grab them. Just, maybe help me with the list of stuff?"

I pressed a kiss to her forehead just as the creases started to appear, "Of course, Doll. I'll take a rain check on raiding your underwear drawer." The humor did exactly what I'd hoped, easing the worry enough that I saw that tentative smile again.

She pulled open the first drawer and I did a quick 360 of the room. It was small, made up of dark colors that were immaculately tailored to her aesthetic. Everything was in shades of blue with decor in silver and white that helped to break up the dark walls while not sacrificing the coziness she'd created.

"A few days first?"

"Let's start with 5 days of clothes, just to make it less ambiguous," I caught the way her shoulders loosened at that.

She pulled out the first articles of her clothes, a pair of tights that matched the others I could see in the drawer.

I desperately wanted to search the room, but that was treading into presumptuous territory. "Doll, do you mind if I sit on your bed, or would you prefer I stand?" I was willing to bet there were other clothes stashed in those bed sheets.

She froze and side-eyed the bed.

That's probably enough of an answer. But I wouldn't say no to the assurance of actually pulling out a pair of khakis to match the sweater still hanging in my left hand.

"It's a mess—"

"I don't care."

"It isn't made—"

"Doll, I don't care."

She wrung her hands again, creeping closer and closer to that damn choker.

Packs collared omegas.

That was the working hypothesis I had anyway, but it didn't line up.

"Doll," I paused until she finally looked away from the bed and over to me. I stepped up into her space again, though I was willing to bed this whole room was more her space than any distance around her. I cupped her cheek in my hand, the other with the sweater I pressed into her back to pull her flush against me. "There is nothing about your bed right now that will make me like it or you any less. I love this room and every bit of you in it. I would happily roll around on your bed messy sheets and all."

Her tongue shot out and wet her lips.

"Y-you can sit on the bed."

I stood there longer than I should have, loving the excuse just to hold her for a minute and hog her time. When I finally stepped back and approached her bed, I could feel her attention burning a hole in the back of my shirt.

I didn't press my luck and drop onto the bed, instead, I just turned and leaned against it, perched just on the edge of it with my legs outstretched, but even that action sent a cloud of apricot and chocolate into the air.

It wasn't strong, definitely the leftover scents on Em's clothing that she'd had on the other day. I turned Em's sweater over in my hand before righted it so it was no longer inside out, "We could bring Em's clothes back with us today and wash them at the packhouse," I hedged.

She scratched the back of her neck but stayed mostly silent while she fisted a handful of underwear that she'd grabbed from another drawer.

"Though if you liked them, I could ask him if you could keep them," I tried a new angle instead and that one got her attention.

"I don't want to steal his clothes."

My pause was too long, long enough that I almost tried to swallow it entirely. "Why? He'll steal yours...It's what Omegas do."

And I was willing to die on the hill that lovely little Delaney Linwood was an Omega. I just needed to prove it.