An Alpha's Grace (Omegas of the New South, #3) by Sharilyn Skye

Author:Sharilyn Skye
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Omegaverse, knotting, Alpha male, nesting, steamy romance
Publisher: Dark Horse Publishing
Published: 2021-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

Fuck, fuck, fuck; what had they done to Grace? Jesus. She came from the mountains of The Seventh and didn’t know what snow was? God. For the four thousandth time, I wanted to go back in time and slaughter each and every person that had ever done her wrong. Every man that had, shit. I stopped that train of thought, knowing it led nowhere good.

In the kitchen, I put on coffee, noting the lack of mess. Nana put the groceries away before leaving last night, which reminded me to call and thank her and explain what happened.

She’d warned me against lying to Grace, and as usual, she’d been right. Seeing Grace on that ledge nearly killed me. Never again. She was mine in every way, and my only regret is not doing it sooner. Fucking Meghan.

I opened the fridge, pulling out eggs and bacon. Grace’s smoothie sat on the shelf, and I thanked God and my Grandma that she’d made it. I didn’t have the recipe, and I didn’t think I had it in me to make one anyway. Grace had drained me. I took back every bad thing I ever thought or said about Jameson and Lorelei. I got it. I finally got it.

I couldn’t believe I’d claimed Grace. I claimed Grace. Grace Battle; I wondered what her middle name was? I wanted to sing and dance, but ma didn’t teach me. This was big. Bigger than big, this was everything. I cracked eggs and made a hurried breakfast; I wanted to take Grace outside and show her the world.

She came from the bathroom, moving awkwardly in pants. Thinking back, I’d never seen her wear them, but she’d taken me at my word and changed. She moved stiffly, reaching the table before I could set a plate down.

“Don’t even think about it,” I growled, rushing to plate food and pour coffee into an oversized mug.

Sighing, she waited patiently until I was settled, then crawled into my lap.

“I really can,” she started.

“No.”

“Okay,” she said with a laugh as she accepted the fork I brought to her mouth. How many times had I fed her? This time seemed more significant as it was the first since we’d bonded. Was this love? I had to think it was.

In the name of love, I had tolerated Meghan’s abuse. This was nothing like what I’d called love then. Looking at Grace was like looking at the sun. It hurt, but the beauty of it outweighed the pain. My heart beat outside of my body, and it was exhilaratingly terrifying.

What I felt for Meghan didn’t come close to comparing.

I fed Grace until her bites were sluggish. I handed her the smoothie, arching my brow when she thought to refuse. Dutifully, she drank it, groaning at the first sip. That smoothie had saved both our lives. Had my Nana not known the recipe would help Grace get well, both of us would’ve suffered.

My daily contributions to it had taken the edge off the need I had to claim her.

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