Page 65 of What We Don't Say: Part One

Sloane’s mouth curves against my grip. “We’ll behave when you get back.”

“No, you won’t.” She climbs off the bed, buttoning her blouse with hands that are almost steady by the time she reaches the mirror. Her mouth is a little swollen, her face is still pink, and her eyes are bright enough that I almost tell her to skip the meeting myself.

The sound comes from down the hall before I can.

It’s soft at first, a thin, aching whine that cuts through the bedroom and pulls every Alpha instinct in the room taut. Sloane goes still beneath my hand. Calliope’s fingers freeze on the last button of her blouse, and all the warmth in her face changes shape.

Garrett’s voice follows, low and rough enough that my spine tightens.

Then Theo moans.

Calliope goes crimson so fast it would be funny on any other morning. Sloane’s eyes lift to mine, dark and hungry, his whole body answering the Omega down the hall while I keep my fingers locked in his hair.

“That timing is cruel,” Sloane says, voice rough around the words. He looks toward the hall again, and the sound that leaves Theo on the other side of the wall makes his hands flex at his sides.

Calliope grabs her blazer from the chair and clutches it to her chest like fabric can hide the color in her face. “Why does all the good stuff happen without me?”

I let Sloane go and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “We’ll save some for you, princess.”

Her laugh comes out flustered and too bright, but it’s real. She points at both of us on her way to the door, still pink and still smiling, and says, “I’m holding you to that,” before she hurries into the hall toward the stairs.

Sloane watches her go for one second, then turns toward Theo’s room like the sound has hooked under his ribs. I stand and catch the back of his neck before he can move too quickly. He breathes hard through his nose, his scent already thickening, and then he makes himself nod.

“Careful,” I say, because the warning is for both of us now.

“I know.” His jaw works once, and his eyes track toward the hallway again when Theo makes another soft sound. “I know, Idris.”

Theo’s door is half-open when we reach it.

The air changes at the threshold, warm and heavy with cardamom, peach blossom, mint, leather, and the first sharp edge of a spike. The curtains are still drawn. The bed is torn apart from whatever sleep Theo managed before his body started reaching for relief, blankets kicked down and pillows shoved aside. Garrett is on the bed with him, shirt open at the throat, one hand planted beside Theo’s shoulder and the other firm at his hip.

Theo is flushed and shaking, his dark hair damp at his temples. He’s clinging to Garrett like the world has narrowed to the Alpha over him. Garrett’s hips move in careful, measured thrusts, deep and controlled, the muscles in his back and arms tight with the effort of holding himself back. Theo’s legs are wrapped around him, heels pressed into Garrett’s back, every small sound he makes broken and needy.

The wet slide of skin against skin fills the quiet room as Garrett takes him through the spike with a focus I’ve almost never seen from him—no polish, no distance, just the stunned intensity of a man being chosen exactly where he’s most careful.

Theo’s face is turned into Garrett’s neck. His fingers clutch at Garrett’s open shirt, then release enough to press one hand flat to the mattress when Garrett speaks.

“Color,” Garrett says, his voice scraped low.

Theo’s eyes flutter. “Green,” he says.

I’m not sure how long we stand there before Garrett thrusts one last time, Theo crying out around the Alpha’s knot. Sloane makes a sound beside me and catches it before it can turn into a purr. Theo’s gaze shifts toward us. His breathing catches, and fora second I think the additional attention might push him too far. Then his hand lifts toward me, shaky and certain.

“Idris,” he says.

I step into the room slowly. “I’m here.”

Theo’s eyes move to Sloane next. His mouth opens, closes, then tries again with a determination that makes my chest tighten. “Sloane too.”

Sloane’s hands flex at his sides. “Right here, sweetheart.”

Garrett lowers his forehead briefly to Theo’s shoulder and breathes through something hard. His hips are still rocking forward as he remains deep inside Theo. When Garrett lifts his head, his eyes are sharper. “Still green?”

Theo nods, then swallows. “So good. You’re... staying, right?”

Garrett’s expression changes again, something fierce and almost pained moving through him. “I’m staying.” His lids close, the silence of the room comfortable until Theo lets out another soft moan. I look over to see Garrett pressing a kiss to Theo’s forehead just as our pack Alphas’ phone starts ringing on the nightstand.

Theo flinches, and Sloane takes one involuntary step forward before I stop him with a hand at his chest. Garrett looks at the phone with open fury, ignores it, and turns back to Theo.