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19. BELLA

The kitchen was filled with my third most favourite smell in the world; pancakes. Pancakes made by my favourite person in the world who was extremely worried about the little Omega I brought home with me.

It was hard for me to admit, but I was worried about her too.

If Tyrone hadn’t seen the fire...a shudder raced down my spine..

“Would you like some syrup with that, princess?”

My eyes snapped over to Michel and then dropped to the plate he had placed down in front of me. For once I wasn’t in the mood for pancakes. When I only stared down at the plate, Michel sighed loudly.

“Are you still mad at me?” he questioned softly.

I shook my head. Michel moved to my side, turned my chair toward him and then hugged me to his chest with his lips brushing my forehead and then my cheek.

“I don’t like it when you’re mad at me. Tell me what I need to do so you can look at me and talk to me,” he muttered.

“I’m not mad at you.” I pulled away and glanced around the kitchen, searching for the courage to
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