Chapter 9: The Body Remembers

I don’t bother justifying his rubbish with a response. If his father wanted him to know that it was a drunken mistake, he would’ve let him know.

Unless it was a drunken mistake on his part, and I took advantage of him?

I almost laugh at the thought. There’s definitely no way in hell I could’ve done that. I was too in my feelings and miserable back then. Where would I have gotten the confidence to seduce my alpha and guardian?

“Can you leave now?” I look at Marcus, who is still watching me like a hawk. Probably waiting for a reaction. “I need to get dressed,” I add.

He chuckles. “You suddenly grew a spine. Last year you would’ve just stood there and taken whatever I said.”

I keep my face blank even though the words land harder than I want them to. “Leave.”

Marcus doesn’t move. His eyes flick to the bassinet, then back to me. “You know what’s funny? Dad’s been different since you two started playing house. Quieter. More distracted. Some of the older wolves have noticed. They keep asking if the Alpha is still thinking clearly with an omega who can’t even remember how she got pregnant under his roof.”

My fingers tighten on the edge of the towel. “If you have a point, make it.”

“My point is that you’re temporary.” He takes another step closer. The masked scent still bothers me. It’s like standing next to a blank space where a person should be. “Dad might be stuck with the kids, but he isn’t stuck with you. The second the pack decides you’re more trouble than you’re worth, you’ll be gone. And I’ll make sure of it.”

I walk past him to the dresser, pull out the first clean shirt and pair of shorts I find, and keep my back to him while I dress under the towel. When I turn around again he’s still there, arms crossed, that same nasty little smile on his face.

“You should leave before your father gets home,” I say. “I don’t think he’d like finding you in here with your scent hidden.”

Something flickers in his eyes. Not fear exactly. Calculation.

He pushes off the bed and walks to the door, then looks back at me.

I finish putting on the shirt and pinch my breasts over it and the breast pads I seriously need to change. My tits feel like they need to get pumped so they can finally breathe, and I don’t even know how to do the whole breastfeeding thing.

I turn toward the bathroom to go get the pads, but the bedroom door opens and Trojan walks in looking like he just ran around the entire state.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Marcus was here.”

He pushes off the door. “When?”

“Just now. His scent was masked. He was standing over the twins when I walked in.” I cross my arms. “He said some of the older wolves are already questioning whether you’re thinking clearly with me under your roof. Then he told me I’m temporary.”

Trojan goes very still. “What’s all this tension between you two? You used to be so inseparable.”

I keep my face carefully neutral. The last thing I need is to turn this into a father-son problem. Marcus is still his kid. I’m just the girl who woke up in his bed with two babies I don’t remember making.

“It’s nothing,” I say. “We’re just adjusting. Everything’s been off since I woke up like this. He was checking on the twins. That’s all.”

Trojan studies me for a second longer than I like. He doesn’t look convinced, but he also doesn’t push. His eyes move to the bassinet, then back to me.

He frowns. “With his scent cloaked?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod. I shouldn’t have told him that. If he goes busting Marcus’s balls, it’ll just be another reason for Marcus to hate me. I might not want to be his punching bag anymore, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy all this animosity between us. We were best friends once upon a time.

Trojan exhales and rubs both hands over his face. Up close, he looks even worse than he did when he walked in. His hair is a mess, there is dirt along his jaw and a smear of blood has dried across his shoulder. He looks exhausted.

“You should sit down,” I tell him.

“I should probably shower.”

I chuckle. “You should probably do both.”

The corner of his mouth lifts and a smile spreads across his face. “I should.”

He walks closer, his eyes still on me, and I can see the tension in his shoulders.

“I need to recharge,” he says, reaching for me. “I’m spent.”

My brain immediately starts screaming because I have no idea what that means. I don’t even know what we were like before I lost my memories, so I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now.

I don’t get the chance to figure it out because his arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest and holding me there, his face resting against my hair for a moment. And for some reason I don’t even understand, I relax instead of panicking. That probably should concern me, right?

He lifts his head and looks at me. “Are you in your right mind?”

I blink at him. “I think so.”

That earns me a small smile from him. Then he leans down and kisses me. The kiss is deep and warm, and I freeze for half a second before my body seems to remember something my brain doesn't. My hands settle against his chest, and I lean into him without thinking.