Page 75 of Pack Obsession

CASEY

My arms tighten around Axel’s waist as the stolen motorcycle weaves through traffic, the city becoming a blur of concrete and glass. His body radiates heat that seeps into my bones, dulling the constant heat that’s been humming beneath my skin and the dread of Julian?—

My throat closes up. Julian. The man who killed my parents.

The truth is broken glass in my chest, cutting deeper with every breath. But Axel’s solid presence grounds me, reminding me that I’m not alone anymore. They came for me. After everything, the three Alphas actually came.

The warm wind whips strands of my white-blonde hair and tugs at my clothes as we leave the city behind. Soon enough, the urban landscape gives way to coastal roads. The ocean appears, a slate gray expanse that matches the ominous clouds gathering on the horizon. My body throbs with each bump and turn, but I can’t seem to stop myself from pressing closer to Axel, breathing in his addictive scent.

I’m still coming to terms with escaping Julian. For a while, I was certain I’d be his sex slave forever, a thought that terrified me to my core.

The bike slows as we turn onto a private drive lined with twisted cypress trees. My breath catches at the sight of the house that comes into view—a modern two-story structure of stone perched right on the edge of the beach. The waves crash against the rocky shoreline below, sending spray high into the air.

Axel guides the bike into a garage that opens automatically, the door sliding shut behind us. The sudden silence when he cuts the engine is deafening.

“Wait,” I say as he helps me off the bike, my legs wobbly. “This is yours, too?”

He parks the bike and is off in moments, then steadies me with those huge, careful hands. “One of our safe houses. You’re the first person we’ve brought here who isn’t pack. Though you will be soon.”

I blink at him, trying to make sense of his words. My fingers curl into his shirt of their own accord. “I have so many questions?—”

“Later,” he says, and before I can protest, he scoops me up into his arms like I weigh nothing. A giggle escapes me, quickly turning into a groan as my bruised ribs protest as my heat envelops me, thumping in my veins.

“Axel! Put me down… this isn’t helping my heat.”

“Not a chance, peaches.” He carries me through a door and up a floating staircase to an open-concept living area that takes my breath away. Windows and French doors frame the turbulent ocean, while the interior is a bachelor pad—leather couches, steel and reclaimed wood furniture, and abstract art that looks suspiciously like Axel’s style. Weapons are mounted on walls like artwork, telling me exactly what kind of safe house this is.

He doesn’t stop in the great room, instead carrying me down a hallway and to what appears to be a covered deck. Except thewallsare some kind of semi-transparent material that lets in the sea breeze while maintaining privacy.

“Bulletproof smart material,” he explains, seeing my confusion. “We can see out, but no one can see in.”

Then I notice the massive hot tub set into the deck, steam rising from its surface, a barbecue, a table, and chairs. He sets me on my feet and starts pulling back the cover on the hot tub to crystal, inviting water.

“I had the caretaker prepare this for us. I messaged him when we pulled over on the bike, wanting it ready for you.”

“What? why?”

“You’re getting in the water,” he says, his voice brooking no argument. “It’ll help with the ache. And I’m joining you.”

Logan

The house feels different now that Casey’s gone—emptier but charged with anticipation. Nash and I secured the area, dealt with Julian’s men, and watched as another Omega was rescued by someone else. Not our business, not our fight. We had our mission.

Now we wait in the room where they kept Casey prisoner, the space still holding echoes of her fear and pain. My hands itch for violence.

“Think any of his men managed to warn him?” Nash asks, pacing the length of the room like a caged lion. His glasses catch the light, hiding his eyes.

I lean against the wall, counting my breaths. “Doesn’t matter. He’s coming back either way. Thank fuck Casey’s safe. That’s what matters.”

“And destroying that fucker Julian,” Nash adds, his voice dropping to a growl. “Been waiting too long for this.”

“Patience,” I remind him, though my own blood sings for the hunt. “Waiting is part of it.”

Nash stops at the window, body going still. “Well, fuck. We’ve got company.” A predatory smile spreads across his face. “Julian’s back. Three huge guys with him.”

“More fun for us,” I say, moving into position. We take our places—Nash by the door, me in the shadows near the desk. The wait stretches forever until footsteps approach.

The door opens with a deliberate slowness that makes my teeth ache. Julian strolls in like he owns the fucking world, his expensive shoes silent on the polished floor. Three mountain-sized men flank him, their bulk filling the doorway. Amateur move—he doesn’t even scan the room. His arrogance is going to cost him.

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