After Jackson revealing an intimate knowledge of my panties, information he shouldn't know, it doesn't surprise me when I get approximately zero hours of sleep.
Instead, after I finish my peppermint tea, I wind up lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, desperately scrabbling about in the recesses of my mind for some clue about last night.
While I'm not usually one to drink myself silly, last night was an exception.
Fear made me stupid.
Savannah was right about my eagerness to run away because of what Jackson represents.
I've spent my life mostly ignoring the omega side of me because it's something I never really wanted. My parents were proud that they'd birthed a child that had the gift to heal shifter hearts, but I never wanted to be special. I only wanted to live my quiet ordinary life with my pack in Hardin.
Liar.
Okay, so maybe I'm not being entirely honest with myself, but after I failed so spectacularly at fixing the broken parts of our old alpha, Owen, I think I can be forgiven for not wanting anything to do with the part of me I can't control.
I roll over so I can gaze out of my window, considering a truth I've spent years obsessing over.
If I'd been capable, I could've stopped Owen from killing most of Dayne's family.
Only, when I was near Owen, I never felt the pressing need to heal anything. Over the years, I'd pick up pain from members of my pack when they were sad or hurting, but I never did with Owen. Not once.
I hear a truck pull up outside. At the sound of the front door opening and then Savannah and Jeremy greeting Jackson, I get up. There's no point in my lying in bed when I could be doing something. Being useful.
After a quick shower, I brush my teeth and take my time braiding my hair into a French braid before I go hunting for something to wear. All the while, I try not to think too hard about why I'm suddenly taking such care with my appearance.
In the end, it takes twenty minutes before I settle on the denim skirt and red button-up blouse I'd planned on wearing all along but kept talking myself out of.
Downstairs, it doesn't take long for me to realize I'm one of the last to emerge for the breakfast of bacon, eggs, and pancakes I smelled cooking while I was getting ready.
Everyone is already in the formal dining room with the table heaving under the weight of all the breakfast Jackson cooked up. And with how good everything looks and smells-Jackson did a much better job than I was expecting.
The sound of laughter and conversation fills the room, alongside the scrapes of knives and forks as everyone eats. As always, being around my pack-my family-eases something inside me.
So, for a second, I stand in the doorway and absorb the warmth of belonging, of home and family. I'm so focused on that, I nearly jump out of my skin when hands clamp around my hips and draw me back against a heavily muscled body with a rock-hard erection.
There's no doubt in my mind who it is.
I glance over my shoulder. "Jackson?"
He backs us from the dining room. Once we're out, he releases his hold on my hips and grabs my hand. "Come with me."
My mouth opens with a question I don't get to ask because Jackson is already leading me away. "But I'm hungry," I whine.
He squeezes my hand. "I'll feed you. We need to talk first."
In response to his words, I tense because I can guess what Jackson wants to talk to me about, and it's something I don't want to. So, I slow and tug on my hand to try to stop him from leading me out of the back door.
Jackson glances over his shoulder. "What?"
"Uh, I think I'd rather eat breakfast."
He doesn't stop. "You can walk out, or I can toss you over my shoulder. What'll it be?"
I glare into his back. "Walk."
Jackson shoves the door open. "That's what I thought."
As he leads us outside and into the forest, my anger builds and builds. By the time he stops and presses my back against a tree with his hand braced over my head, I'm ready to kill him.
"Your pack is leaving tomorrow," Jackson says, getting right to the point.
I lean my head against the tree because he's a lot taller than me and I want to be looking him in the eye for this talk. "Yes."
His other hand clamps tight around my hip. "But you are staying."
Even though I knew this was coming, I'm still stunned into silence at how… blunt he's being. I and the rest of the pack were only here so Talis could see the Merrick house go down, and so we could say goodbye to Savannah and Jeremy before they leave for Paris. But that's it. After those two events, there's no reason for us to stay. There's no reason for me to stay.
But that's okay, I can be blunt too. "No. I'm not."
Jackson leans closer, and once again I feel his erection nudging my belly. "You are."
I put my hands on his chest and shove. "Will you quit poking me with that thing?"
His eyes darken. "Now we both know that isn't what you really want. Don't we, darlin'?"
When he lifts me with painful ease, so I'm stood on my tiptoes, I lose the ability to breathe when his arousal presses right up against the place that hasn't seen any action in far too long.
As I'm struggling to stop myself from wrapping my legs and arms around him, he lowers his head and kisses my throat. "There's something between us, and I intend to find out what it is," he growls right against my ear.
My voice is breathless as I shake my head. "I'm not staying."
"You are." His teeth nip the shell of my ear, making me whimper.
"Jackson," I breathe his name.
"Do you have other fruit panties? I liked the cherry but I'm partial to the taste of strawberry."
At the thought of Jackson's mouth anywhere near my panties, my arousal spikes, and I shift against him, wanting him but knowing the second I give in, then I'm stuck here. Because if I sleep with Jackson, I don't see him just letting me walk away. Any other wolf might, but not an alpha. Not Jackson.
"And if I'm already with someone?" I murmur as he strokes a large hand up and down my side.
He kisses the corner of my mouth. "Then they haven't been giving you what you need," he says without hesitation.
"And you think this why?"
"Because you can only get it from me."
Wow. The arrogance is unreal. "Maybe they have. Maybe it's you who doesn't know what I need."
When Jackson grinds his cock against me, I draw in a deep breath and hold it, knowing I can't hold it for long. He does it again, and this time I can't stop the moan that slips out.
"I don't know about that, darlin'," Jackson says, sounding amused.
I force myself to ignore the press of his body against mine. "It's just sex," I lie. "I can get that from anyone. From any shifter."
Jackson lifts his head and studies me for a long time. Although his face is expressionless, I catch a flutter of emotion in his eyes that has me frowning. Something that has the omega side of me stirring.
"Is that what you think?" This is the most serious he's ever been. The playful and amused Jackson has disappeared without a trace. Unexpectedly, I find myself missing that side of him.
When I don't respond, he lowers his head closer to mine. "You have today to say your goodbyes to the rest of your pack. That's all I'll give you, because tomorrow, Regan, you're mine."
Jackson drops his hand from my hip and turns to walk away.
I watch him go, frozen by what I felt stirring in him. Because I know what it is now, and I never expected to find it in an alpha as powerful as Jackson Stone.
It's the sharp agony of anguish. Which poses the question: who or what has made him suffer that bad for this old feeling to still feel so fresh to me?