Page 32 of Taken By the Pack

She walks over to him, wraps her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry for being such a jackass earlier.”

Jake blinks, stiff as a board. Then he softens, holding her awkwardly, like he’s not used to this kind of thing. “Don’t apologize. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She nods, pulling back to wipe at her cheeks. There’s a streak of dirt on her face now, right below her eye. I want to reach out, swipe it away, but I hold back.

“Start talking, Grace,” I say, crossing my arms. “From the beginning.”

She swallows, sniffling. “I went to the doctor. For years, I’ve been using suppressants. They’re supposed to keep my heats from happening. Yesterday,” she glances at me, “they failed. The doctor doesn’t know why, she needs to run more tests. And she can’t give me anything else to help me.”

Jake shakes his head. “That shit’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be messing with that.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she snaps, glaring at him. “But it’s either that or… this.” She gestures at herself, like that explains everything.

Jake and I exchange a glance. Yeah, we get it.

“And those Alphas earlier?” she continues. “That’s exactly why I’ve been on suppressants. It’s only gonna get worse. I’m like a walking fucking target now, you said it yourself.”

She turns to me, her pained expression almost accusing. How could I leave her like that yesterday?

My jaw tightens. “What can we do to help you, to keep you safe? You’ve gotta have some kind of plan.”

She laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “What plan? The suppressants were the plan. I could lock myself up at home until it passes, but…” She gestures at her shop, at her flowers. “Unless I hire a full-time bodyguard—which, by the way, I can’t afford—there’s nothing to be done. I’ll just… deal with it.”

“You’re not dealing with this alone.” I say with a step forward.

She looks up at me, her eyes narrowing. “Oh yeah? What’s your genius solution, Rowan?”

I take a breath, forcing the words out. “We fake a bond.”

Her eyes widen. “A what?”

Jake’s brows shoot up. “You serious?”

“It’ll keep the assholes away,” I say, locking eyes with her. “If they think you’re already bonded, they’ll back off.”

Grace laughs again, sharper this time. “And what happens when they realize that I don’t smell right? What if they notice that you’re never around? That you’re not?—”

“I’ll stick around,” I interrupt, knowing her safety isn’t my only concern—her relief from her heat is just as important.

“Bullshit,” she snaps. “You’re always up there in your lighthouse. I’ve lived here for years and this is the first time I’ve ever seen you in town.”

“I won’t disappear,” I say firmly, stepping closer.

Jake clears his throat. “And when he isn’t around, I’ll step up. I’m around more anyway.”

Grace looks between us, her face a mix of disbelief and… something else. “You two realize how ridiculous this sounds, right?”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Jake says. “Think about it. If you’re constantly smelling like us, no one’s gonna fuck with you.”

“It’s true,” I add. “Predatory Alphas won’t risk it if they think you’re ours.”

She hesitates, chewing her lip. “Yours? Plural?”

Jake shrugs. “Guess that’s what we’re saying.”

I nod. “Yeah. Both of us. A pack.”

“Apack?You’ve got to be kidding me.” She stares at us like we’ve grown two heads.

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