The first thing Althea registered was the scent. Not the phantom blood of her nightmares, but the real, comforting, and now deeply familiar aroma of Grape Old Wine embedded in the pillows and sheets. She was in Haven's room. Again. A slow, goofy smile spread across her face as she burrowed deeper into the mattress, doing a full-body stretch that ended with her happily kicking her feet under the covers.
Main character energy unlocked, her brain supplied, still fuzzy with sleep. Waking up in the hot CEO's bed? That's a rom-com trope. I'm living a trope.
Her hand slid across the cool, linen sheets, seeking a warm, solid body. It found only emptiness.
The smile faltered.
She was alone.
A tiny, irrational pang of sadness hit her. It was stupid, she knew. Haven probably had a multi-million dollar meeting at, like, 5 AM or something. CEO grind never stops. But after the seismic shift of the previous day and night, a small, clingy part of her—probably her inner Omega had hoped for a lazy morning of cuddles and maybe more kitchen-related… debriefings.
Ugh, get a grip, Althea, she chastised herself, sitting up. You're not a barnacle. You're a strong, independent Omega who… oh, who am I kidding, I want to be a barnacle on that specific Alpha.
Just as the melancholy threatened to settle in, another scent wafted up from downstairs, cutting through the grape-wine haze. Buttery, flaky, heavenly.
Croissants. No, wait… pain au chocolat? Her stomach growled loudly in the quiet room.
Breakfast!!
Any lingering sadness was instantly vaporized by the siren call of baked goods. She scrambled out of bed, her mission clear. She pulled on the first thing she found one of Haven's discarded, soft grey dress shirts from a chair. It swam on her, the hem hitting her mid-thigh and the sleeves covering her hands. She rolled them up, inhaling the concentrated scent of her Alpha.
Wearing her clothes? Also a trope. We are so winning the tropes today.
She padded barefoot down the stairs, following the delicious aroma like a cartoon character floating on a scent cloud. She found Haven in the kitchen, already a vision of corporate power in a tailored, deep emerald green pantsuit. She was placing a single, perfect orchid in a small vase at the center of the table, which was set with two plates, fresh fruit, and the aforementioned, glorious pastries.
"Good morning," Althea chirped, leaning against the doorframe.
Haven turned, and a softness immediately replaced the focused intensity in her eyes. "Good morning. I was about to come wake you. I didn't want to leave without…" She trailed off, her gaze doing a quick, appreciative sweep of Althea in her shirt. A faint blush tinged her cheeks.
Althea's own eyes, however, zeroed in on Haven's neck. Above the crisp white collar of her blouse, just peeking out, was a constellation of faint, purple marks. A particularly bold bite mark was visible right on the curve where her neck met her shoulder. A wave of possessive pride, followed by a hot flush of mortification, washed over Althea.
"I'm glad I was able to see you before you left," Althea said, her voice a little squeaky. "And, uh… aaa! Sorry for… the things." She gestured vaguely at Haven's neck.
Haven's brow furrowed in confusion for a second before understanding dawned. She reached a hand up, her fingers gently brushing the marks. "Oh. This?" The blush on her own face deepened, but a small, secret smile played on her lips. "It's… fine."
She looked shy, almost flustered, as she tried to adjust her collar to better hide the evidence.
Seeing the mighty Haven Hartwell thrown off balance by a few hickeys was a power trip Althea could get used to. She stepped forward, her mission shifting.
"Here, let me," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
She moved into Haven's space, her fingers deftly working on the silk tie that was already perfectly knotted. She loosened it slightly, then tightened it again, her movements slow and deliberate, using the pretense to straighten the collar, but ultimately leaving the marks just as visible as before.
"There," Althea murmured, patting the tie flat against Haven's chest. "Now wear my marks like a proud person. Haha."
Haven's amber eyes were dark, her scent a warm, swirling cloud of Grape Old Wine and affection. "Thanks, Althea," she said, her voice low. "I will."
She gently took Althea's hand and led her to the table, pulling out a chair right beside her own instead of the one opposite. "Come. Let's eat."
They ate in a comfortable, sun-drenched silence, their knees brushing under the table. It was domestic and perfect and Althea felt a happiness so profound it was almost dizzying. She was slathering an obscene amount of jam on her second croissant when Haven's phone vibrated on the table with a sharp, insistent buzz.
Haven sighed, the sound full of genuine regret. "That's my cue. I have to go."
She stood, collecting her tablet and briefcase. The transformation back to the unapproachable CEO was almost complete, save for the love bites on her neck that utterly ruined the effect. Althea loved it.
As Haven reached the door, Althea had a sudden, impulsive thought.
"Haven, wait! Come here."
Haven paused, turning back with a questioning look.
Althea made a 'come hither' motion with her fingers. Haven, ever the obedient Alpha in these new, strange domestic rituals, walked back until she was standing in front of her.
Althea stood on her tiptoes, arched up, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Haven's cheek. "Good luck at work," she whispered, pulling back with a brilliant grin. "And slay those papers! Me and Sushi will be waiting and watching the fort!"
The blush that spread across Haven's face was absolutely worth the cheesy line. Haven looked utterly disarmed, her composure shattered. She blinked, nodded once, and then, almost robotically, turned and walked out the door.
Althea giggled, listening to the sound of the car engine starting and fading away. The house was quiet again, but it didn't feel empty anymore. It felt… charged with potential.
She looked down at Sushi, who had materialized at her feet, his tail wagging hopefully.
"Oh, Sushi," she cooed, scooping the wiggling golden retriever into her arms. "I am so, so sorry about yesterday. Sorry your mommies didn't mean to close the door right in your face. We were… busy filing important joint-venture paperwork. Very corporate."
Sushi licked her chin.
"Let this mommy pay you back by playing with you all day and giving you so many snacks! We shall conquer the garden and the books today! It's a mommy-and-me day! No busy, suit-wearing Alphas allowed. Well, except for us pining for her, obviously. That's a given."