Pack of Lies, page 20
Marlowe didn’t seem horrified to have me as his scent match mate, but he could be hiding his distaste.
A second later he rushed forward and I went stiff, not sure what to expect.
Was he going to slap me? I didn’t deserve it, considering I’d been lied to same as him, but I could see where the impulse would come from. I’d gotten myself off in front of his mates. Kissed one of them. Had Jubilee told him that already?
I swallowed the lump in my throat, knowing that guilt shouldn’t exist but finding it hard to ignore anyway.
He didn’t lift a hand in violence when he got close. His arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace, his head coming down on my shoulder. Marlowe let out a little whimper as he inhaled deep breaths of me, whispering against me. “Thank goodness you’re alright.”
I didn’t know how to respond. Should I hug him back? Maybe, but I didn’t get a chance to decide on anything before Quentin was detaching Marlowe from me with an apologetic little smile. I sucked in a breath before either could get too far away for me to scent them.
Marlowe smelled of cotton candy, aggressively sugary.
Quentin was sour green apple and something vaguely berry-like but tart. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was before they moved too far away.
“Sorry,” Marlowe said, near tears. “I know I shouldn’t have. I… don’t even know if you’re a hugger.”
My brain, fried from the migraine and the stress, was having trouble processing.
Why was he so thrilled to see me? Shouldn’t he be mad?
Reese placed his hands on my hips and gently maneuvered me to the side, stepping inside. The door shut, giving us privacy from the silent, dark streets. I couldn’t look away from Marlowe. He shied back against Quentin when the pause extended for too long, gaze flicking to the side nervously.
“Why are you so happy to see me?” I finally asked.
“You’re my scent match,” he said, like it should be obvious. “I’ve been waiting for my pack to find their match since I joined.”
“But you know I’m not normal.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
I looked around the house for the first time. Everything was tidy but lived in. Comfortable. The decor had hints of everyone’s personality. There were science articles framed on the walls, sports memorabilia in a glass display case framing the TV, and bookcases full of books.
“You have the perfect pack. Of course it matters,” I said without thinking of the connotations of my words.
Denzel puffed up in pride, only to be brought right back down by a withering look from Marlowe. It was the first hint of anything other than ‘sensitive, gracious host’ I’d seen from the omega.
“We’re not perfect,” Marlowe said. “If we were perfect, my pack lead wouldn’t have lied to me.”
“I was trying—”
“I don’t care what you were trying to do.” Marlowe glared with more intensity than I would have expected. “You lied and you kept my scent match mate a secret, not to mention how you basically cheated on her.”
Cheated on… her? I shifted from foot to foot as I tried to figure out if he’d misspoken. They were in an established relationship. The bond marks were on display on his neck. If anything, the pack was cheating on him. Not me.
“You came home and fucked me, and I feel disgusting,” Marlowe said.
His small hands were clenched into fists.
“Denzel and I didn’t do anything sexual,” I said hesitantly, unsure if I should be defending him. He’d been an asshole, but I wouldn’t consider what he’d done to be cheating. “None of us did, really.”
And now I knew why. Only Denzel was committed enough to the lie to not be guilty touching me while Marlowe waited at home, and I’d never let him close. Reese had stopped things not because he wanted to take things slow, but because he didn’t want to do it while lying. Jubilee had freaked out over the kiss for the same reason.
“He fucked me, though,” Marlowe said vehemently. “You’re their scent match mate. We shouldn’t have done it, not knowing if you were comfortable with it.”
His logic was puzzling.
The more I thought about it, the more it didn’t make any sense, and my headache was coming back. Not to migraine levels, hopefully. I wasn’t sure I could handle another one so soon. My stomach was gnawingly empty, each of my limbs more tired with every second I had to stand.
Reese took notice of my discomfort, placing a hand on my back and leading me over to the couch. It was too clean for me to sit on in this clothing that had been to hell and back. He saw my hesitation, too, and draped a blanket over the fabric.
It was hard to stay mad at him.
“Sugar…” Denzel tried to approach Marlowe, his hand reaching for the omega.
Marlowe smacked him away. Quentin was holding onto Marlowe for dear life, his jaw working to grind his teeth together. He was one wrong move away from punching Denzel in the face.
“You might have ruined everything,” Marlowe said. “Everything. You know I’ve always wanted to find your scent match. I wanted that for you. I wanted her in the pack, to complete you the way it’s meant to be.”
“I’ve told you a thousand times, we don’t need another omega when we have you—”
A sharp smack rang out.
I blinked.
Denzel’s cheek was pink, his blue eyes wide and stunned, and Marlowe was shaking his stinging hand.
I hadn’t even had time to process Denzel’s words before the other omega had reacted, but they hit me all at once. He’d voiced every thought that had been racing through my head since I’d learned about Marlowe.
They didn’t need me. They’d never need me the way I wanted them to.
“How dare you say that about her.”
There wasn’t much vehemence in Marlowe’s words because he was beginning to cry, already letting out gentle hiccups.
“What the fuck did I say?” Denzel demanded, his expression flashing with annoyance.
He took a couple of big steps back, and Quentin urged Marlowe around to sit on the couch.
“You can’t make her feel unwanted, especially not after everything she’s been through. Quentin, I don’t want to see him anymore.”
Quentin was up in a second, clearly just waiting for the word from his omega. He grabbed Denzel’s arm and began to drag the alpha away to the back of the house. Denzel tried to resist. “Do you really want to do that?” Quentin asked, almost low enough I couldn’t hear. “In front of them, this time?”
Denzel growled and ripped himself away from his brother but left without further griping.
The room was oddly quiet without him, Quentin wandering back over to us. He stayed by Jubilee, whose hands were trembling something fierce, their affection for each other obvious from their closeness.
For a while only Marlowe’s gentle hiccups could be heard until I got up the courage to speak.
“Why does it matter that Denzel fucked you while he was home? He’s your mate; of course he did,” I said.
I ignored the pinch in my chest at how I’d asked for him in the hospital. It hurt knowing he’d been here, unreachable because he’d been fucking someone else. Even if his mate was sweet and tempting and kind.
Marlowe drew his legs up to his chest. “You’re their scent match. That kind of bond will trump my bond with them every time. I wouldn’t stand in the way of that, even if I had to change how I interact with the pack to make you more comfortable.”
“That’s absurd,” I said.
He cocked his head to the side.
“You’re already their mate. I could never insert myself into your relationship and try to tell you how to interact with them. Anyone who would do that is cruel,” I elaborated.
His eyes widened. “Oh, my gosh. I would never mean to imply that you’re cruel. That’s not at all what I meant. I’m as bad as Denzel.”
Quentin hid a laugh behind his hand, and Jubilee and Reese both had ghosts of affectionate smiles.
“No one is as bad as Denzel,” I said. “Certainly not you.”
A smile slid onto my face despite the awkwardness of this whole situation.
“I’m still sorry. And I’m sorry about him. I don’t know what he was thinking.”
Having met Marlowe, I kind of understood what Denzel was thinking. I didn’t agree with him, obviously, but I got where he was coming from.
Marlowe had been ready to basically eliminate himself from this pack if I wanted him to. Denzel didn’t know anything about me coming in; how was he to know I wouldn’t pull something like that on his omega, who was desperate to give his pack their scent match for whatever odd reason?
“You don’t control him,” I said, ending the sentence on a yawn.
The sky was lightening outside as we inched closer to sunrise. Being unconscious hadn’t been the same as sleeping, and I was exhausted. My body needed rest, and I eyed the couch cushions.
“You must be exhausted,” Marlowe said, bolting up from the couch. He had endless energy. It was hard to believe he’d been up all night too. Maybe he’d snuck in a nap while he was waiting for me to be saved. “You can sleep in the nest.”
My eyes widened. The nest?
This omega was insane. He was going to let a grubby gold pack omega he’d never met before sleep with him in his nest?
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he said, noticing my hesitance. “Don’t worry, I’m not saying I’ll sleep with you.”
Not even with him in the nest. He wanted me to take over his nest and kick him out of it.
I didn’t know how to say no when he was so eager, but I couldn’t say yes.
Reese and Quentin saved me from the tension in the air. “I’ve got a better idea, cupcake,” Quentin said, stepping up to Marlowe and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Thorn sleeps in Reese’s bed. I think the nest will be a bit too overwhelming for her. All of our scents are super strong in there. The spare room has everyone’s scents in it too, so she’ll probably be more comfortable with Reese’s room.”
Marlowe deflated a bit but kept a smile on his face. “Oh, yeah. That’s a good point. Reese, are you OK to give her your bed? You can sleep in the nest if you want. I could still sleep on the couch.”
“Thorn can have my bed,” Reese confirmed. “I’ll sleep in the spare room. The one who deserves to sleep on a couch is Denzel.”
Biting his lip, Marlowe nodded. He seemed hesitant to relegate the pack lead to the couch, even after slapping him in the face.
“OK. Thorn, if you need anything…” Marlowe trailed off. “I’ll show you where the nest is. You can just come in. Any time.”
He led me up the stairs to the second floor, the pack procession following behind. There was stomping coming from the back of the house, and I imagined Denzel was throwing a fit back there, furious his plan had blown up in his face. It had been destined to from the beginning, but he was too stubborn to see that.
Marlowe led me down to the last door in the upstairs hallway, stopping short of flinging it open. “This is the nest.”
I nodded, grateful he didn’t show me the interior. There was something intimidating about the idea of seeing his nest.
I bet it was pristine, exactly what you would expect from an omega. I’d never had a chance to make a nest, but I imagined what I could come up with wouldn’t match with what a pack would expect.
Reese opened the next door over, gesturing into the room. “This is my room, precious. Make yourself at home. There’s a bathroom attached.”
“The door closest to the stairs is the spare room where Reese will be sleeping tonight,” Marlowe said, pointing.
I was curious about why Reese wouldn’t be sleeping in the nest like the rest of the pack, but I didn’t want to pry by asking. A little overwhelmed by the idea of thanking them or giving some parting words, I didn’t say anything.
Slipping into Reese’s room, I pushed the door gently shut behind me.
With a breath of relief I leaned against it, and a second later heard Quentin murmur to Marlowe. “Come on, cupcake. Let’s get some sleep.”
The door to the nest opened and closed next, then Reese moved off down the hall. Satisfied I was alone, I found the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the room steam up as I cried.
TWENTY-SEVEN
THORN
By the time I woke up, the sun was high in the sky and light was pouring down on the king-size bed. After days of sleeping with Jubilee and waking up to him wrapped around me, I felt alone and cold.
No amount of curling up with the blankets made me any warmer, so I hopped in the shower and let the hot water scald my skin. I’d showered before falling asleep but needed to scrub the watcher’s touch off of me once again. Having an ache in my neck and bruises on my flesh was bad enough.
I didn’t want even a hint of his scent.
Wrapped in a towel, I raided Reese’s closet, hating how his scent still brought me comfort after the trauma. He had lied and I shouldn’t like how he smelled.
I huffed the wheat and hazelnuts from the fabric, anyway.
I was dressed in a loose t-shirt and sweats with no panties when I nervously padded in bare feet downstairs.
Sounds came from the kitchen. Quentin’s broad back faced me when I came into view, and I almost turned and ran right back upstairs. He looked like Denzel, except a more laid back version with longer hair and a bit of scruff on his face.
I didn’t know what he was like because he’d barely spoken to me, but he hadn’t known what was going on with me. He was sweet to Marlowe, too, and intuitively knew when the omega had been overwhelming me.
“Is there anything you don’t eat?” he asked casually.
I jumped. “I didn’t know you knew I was here.”
How uncomfortable. I’d been staring at him as he worked, stirring something in a metal bowl.
“Sweetheart, it’s impossible for you to hide from us. Your scent is so strong I’d catch it from a mile off.” He looked over his shoulder with a soft grin.
My face flushed and I wandered away from the staircase, deeper into the living room and kitchen areas. “Oh. My sense of smell isn’t very good.”
“Lee told us.”
He reached for the hem of his shirt, stripping it over his head and placing it on the counter closest to me. My jaw hung open, gaze hungrily scanning every inch of him. His form was slimmer than Denzel and Reese, but still toned. There were t-shirt tan lines on his biceps, and I imagined he was the one who did most of Marlowe’s gardening for him.
“Why are you cooking shirtless?” I asked faintly, puzzled by how he went right back to stirring as if the strip show had never happened.
“That shirt belongs to you now, so you can get used to my scent,” he said.
I’d reached out to grab the material before I could inform him of how inappropriate that was.
I didn’t need to know his scent. I wouldn’t be staying in this pack beyond the time needed for the Centre to stop caring about me.
My nose pressed to the fabric and I let out a little sigh when I inhaled.
After a couple thoughtful deep breaths, I figured out the berry I’d been unable to identify last night. Mulberry. His scent was green apples and mulberry wine.
I clutched it in my hands as I took a seat at a bar stool, watching Quentin work in silence. “You never answered my question,” he said after a while.
“What question?”
“Is there anything you can’t eat?”
“Um… I don’t think so,” I said.
“Wouldn’t you know?”
“We only ever had a few meals at the Centre. I was fine with all of those, but they were bland.”
“What about before the Centre?” Quentin asked. “Didn’t you have a normal life before you revealed as an omega?”
I shrugged. “Yes, but the meals were pretty much the same.”
My parents had been too busy to make anything other than microwave meals and dumping canned foods into a bowl. Well, they hadn’t been too busy. They just hadn’t cared, expecting me to take care of myself the majority of the time. They hadn’t cared about me revealing as an omega either, which had led to me not getting my injection before I’d been kidnapped on my way home from school.
I’d been days away from my mother being free to take me to the nearest hospital that did the injections, which was in a town an hour and a half away.
Days away from not having to live like this.
I shook off the memories.
Whether I’d gotten the injection or not, I probably would have still been kidnapped. It was pointless to think about what might have happened if I hadn’t been.
Quentin didn’t linger on my answer, offering me a grin. “Well, we’re a mostly vegetarian household because Marlie can’t stand the thought of something dying to feed us. We had to talk him out of being vegan by going on a farm tour and informing him that small suppliers can care for animals properly. All our milk and eggs are from small farms, and every vegetable in this house is organic.”
I couldn’t say I was surprised.
“And he has a garden in the summer, right?”
Raising an eyebrow, Quentin nodded. “Yeah. How do you know?”
“Jubilee mentioned Marlowe. He said you were friends.”
We both went quiet. He busied himself with the scrambled eggs he was making and I fiddled with a salt shaker on the counter. The rest of the house was quiet, everyone else still sleeping off the events of the past twenty-four hours. I should probably be sleeping too, but my hunger was more pressing.
“I’m sorry,” Quentin said eventually. “About how messed up this has all been.”
“You didn’t know what Denzel was doing,” I said, shrugging. “Couldn’t have stopped him.”
“I knew they were hiding something. There was strife in the bonds and Jubilee was uncomfortable. I assumed he’d made a decision I wouldn’t be fond of, but I never imagined something like this. He wasn’t thinking straight.”
