Golden Valley (Pack 3)

It was too late to call Lillian for advice. Not that she wouldn’t get out of bed and come over if he asked, but he wouldn’t disrupt her family time, and besides, he wasn’t in a state to think clearly. Instead, he sent her a text, asking her to come over in the morning. They’d talk, he’d confess his feelings for their visitor, and they’d figure out a plan. Well, Lillian would figure out a plan, because Morgan likely would be hungover and definitely would be exhausted after sleeping on the floor all night. Or, more accurately, trying to sleep on the floor.

He stretched his bare legs and rolled onto his side, trying to get comfortable. The rug wasn’t thick enough to make that possible and the couch in his office was too short to fit his length, but Morgan didn’t trust himself to go to the bedroom side of the house, where Ricky was staying. Anything that brought him closer to the enticing Omega was a temptation he wouldn’t be able to resist.

He hadn’t shifted into his animal form for the same reason. Although a run as a wolf was normally his best way to relieve tension and clear his mind, trading his more logical human brain for his instinctual wolf was a sure path to bloodshed. Morgan’s animal would categorize Berger as a rival for his mate and he’d rip out his throat without hesitation.

The reminder of the Purple Sky Alpha made Morgan think about what his visitor was doing at that moment. Upstairs. In a bedroom. With Morgan’s mate.

“Not my mate,” he insisted through gritted teeth as his nails cut into his palms. “Just a random male Omega.” The pep talk wasn’t working and blood was about to drip onto the rug, so with a groan, Morgan pulled himself up and walked toward the attached bathroom.

“Killing people is bad,” he whispered as he turned on the faucet. But as he watched the red-tainted water swirl over the drain, he couldn’t remember why eliminating Berger would be a problem, so he tried a different tack. “Purple Sky needs an Alpha, and if I kill theirs, I’ll be stuck leading two packs.” The mere possibility of being responsible for yet another pack should have vanquished his drive to destroy Berger, but unfortunately, it didn’t. In that moment, Morgan would have been willing to lead the universe if he could do it with sweet-smelling, bright-eyed Ricky beside him.

Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and desperately tried to clear his mind. The water running over his palms was cool and slick. The scents of home filled the air—trees and soil and pack. He was needed here and that meant being calm and focused, instead of giving in to irrational emotions, no matter how strong.

When he felt more in control, Morgan opened his eyes, turned off the water, and stepped into the office. He’d go to sleep and wake up rested and back in control. A soft knock disrupted that simple plan almost the second it was formulated. Head snapping toward the door, Morgan inhaled and then gasped.

Another knock, quickly followed by a, “Uh, hello? Can I come in?”

The most enticing scent on earth wafted into his nose, and even through solid wood, that voice called to him.

“I’m alone,” said Ricky.

Dining with the Omega without claiming him as his mate had been a nearly insurmountable challenge. Now that Morgan was exhausted and drunk and didn’t have his nervous Beta and the angry Purple Sky Alpha as an audience, he wasn’t sure he had the strength resist.

“What do you need?” he rasped, the muscles in his legs twitching from the force he used to keep them rooted to the floor.

Ricky didn’t immediately respond, but Morgan’s full attention was now concentrated on the man on the other side of the door, so he knew Ricky hadn’t left. His scent strengthened, which likely meant he was sweating, his breathing got heavier, and his heart rate increased. The Omega was either scared, worried, or aroused. Morgan’s soul screamed at him to protect the weaker wolf if he was in danger, soothe him if he was anxious, and sate him if he was needy. Pulling the man into his arms was the first step to accomplishing any of those tasks, so Morgan shoved aside the logical part of his brain and strode toward the door.

Perhaps logic would have defeated instinct, stopping Morgan before he reached the door, but he would never know because the young Omega who had stared at him all through dinner without speaking and complacently left the room after the meal had, apparently, run out of patience.

The knob wasn’t turned slowly and the door wasn’t pushed timidly. One second, wood separated Morgan from the person he craved, and the next, he caught a glimpse of hazel eyes and then a rosy face dipped and he was staring at tousled brown hair.