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Fat strikes the coals. The steaks, which are cooking, hiss and spit. I have rubbed them with salt and black pepper. At the other end of the grill, sausages brown over cooler coals. Further back, are halved onions, dark and sweet.

I turn over the foil-wrapped potatoes, which are closest to the fire.

Judd wanders to stand hopefully at my shoulder.

“No,” I say without looking around.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were going to.”

“Likely.” A beer bottle suddenly appears in front of me. “Looks like you need this. The cook shouldn’t be the only one who ain’t drinking.”

“You know that directly goes against our department’s advice.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“Go away.”

Judd pats me on the shoulder, before he strolls back to join the rest of the crew.

I take a deep swig of my beer, before I test the first steak.

I smile.

Perfect.

The underside is crisp and brown. My mouth waters.

Suddenly, I realize how hungry I am. I didn’t know that I would be this ravenous after my rut with Paige. I should have eaten before I came out, or more than the candy bar that Angel stuffed into my hand, which I still appreciated because he was sacrificing his favorite chocolate.

Would it be rude of the host to eat first?

My stomach rumbles.

I drop the tongs and drag out my phone.

Then I smile when I see the text from Angel.

Our Omega is out of heat. Safe. I’m going to shower her. Luca is cooking. See you later, handsome.

Then a second text, as if Angel hesitated before sending it, or maybe wanted to send something else, and knowing Angel, held himself back.

We’re okay. Relax. Enjoy your evening.

I smile, typing back:

You too.

I slide my phone into my pocket.

How is it possible to miss my pack this much, when I have spent barely a couple of hours away from them?

I never had this issue with Luca. We have spent weeks apart.

But this heat has shifted something deep inside me.

It has changed something, and I don’t know if I can ever go back to how I was before.