Page 110 of Power Shift

I puff out a breath of relief and step through the open doorway. The de-scenter is strong in here too, but it’s not enough to hide the new hints of fresh bread and blueberry in the air. The scents must belong to the sister Ronan mentioned was taking suppressants.

Ronan’s mother shuts the door while I linger in the entry, unable to keep from looking at the dozens of photo frames hung on both walls. Some of them seem more recent, with more vibrant colours and a much older-looking Ronan in them, whileothers are faded. The second frame is the largest of them and easily snags my attention.

Ronan has to be around ten years old in it. He’s rocking a full mullet while the younger girl—his sister, I assume—is on his back, using his hair like horse reins.

“He hates that I have that photo up,” his mom says, moving to stand at my side.

There’s a peaceful aura about her, and I really, really needed that. Maybe that’s why Landon sent me here in the first place. As if simply having company while I waited wasn’t enough.

It’s easier to pretend everything is fine now that I’m here. The lingering fear of what I’ll find once I start examining my destroyed home takes a back seat.

“I didn’t expect him to have ever had a mullet.”

“He hated it. The one and only time I tried to cut his hair, I butchered it.”

“Is that why he has it buzzed now?”

She huffs a laugh. “There’s probably a direct correlation between those two things, yes.”

There’s a lull in conversation as I turn to her and attempt my best smile. If she knows I’m putting on a brave face, she doesn’t let on.

“I know it’s sudden to show up here like this. Landon suggested I come up while I wait for him to get here.”

“This sounds like the beginning of an interesting story,” she says with a wave of her hand in front of us. “Do you like tea? Are you hungry?”

“Thank you, but I don’t know if I’ll be here too long.”

I could be for only a handful of minutes or for hours, depending on whether Landon was being sincere in his worry. My gut is telling me I’ll be gone soon.

“Well, alright. If you change your mind, just let me know.”

We walk out of the front hall and into the living room. It’s warm in this room despite the windows being open, and I’m suddenly not all that upset about being stuck in the basement suite. Hot air rises, and I’ll happily be cold from time to time if it means that I don’t have to sweat to death in the summer.

I hesitate to move further into the room once I reach the couch, another wave of unease approaching. It’s not the same kind of feeling as before I noticed my front door had been opened by someone else, but like I’m . . . trespassing if I go any further.

Without Ronan here, it feels like an invasion of privacy. I want to be herewithhim, knowing that he wants me to meet his family.

His mom smiles at me and slowly sinks into the couch. She’s dressed in a pair of white-washed jeans and a flowy yellow top that accentuates her dark brown hair. I notice her mismatched polka-dotted socks—one yellow and blue and the other pink and green—and hide a smile.

Does Ronan share this quirky trait? If I looked in his sock drawer, would I find a bunch of mismatched socks?

“I’m Kira, in case my son failed to share that information with you. Considering he kept his mate from me, I’d say that’s fairly plausible.”

My lips part on a silent gasp. “You know who I am?”

Leaning back into the couch cushions, she crosses one leg over the other and cracks a soft smile. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Landon doesn’t get involved with many omegas. Him simply instructing you to come up to see me, regardless of the reason behind it, tells me everything I need to know. Add in that I can smell my son on you, and I knew who you were the moment I opened the door.”

“I smell like him?”

God, I didn’t know it was so obvious. Ever since the night I spent at the pack house, I’ve been going to work with a chunk of each of their shirts on me. Either in my purse or my jeans pocket, I’ve needed to have them close. It’s my nesting instincts, and I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that I’m going to be going into heat any day now.

“You smell like all of them. And by your surprise, I’m also assuming that everything is still fairly new.”

“You could say that,” I say before huffing a soft laugh.

“Landon may be here soon, but for now, sit beside me. Tell me about yourself, Briar.”

I don’t make her tell me twice. The couch is one of those old ones with the thick, velvet cushions that they just don’t make the same anymore.

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