Page 43 of Power Shift

“You’re Jasper Montgomery,” I remind him.

He glances at me, smiling softly. “And she’s our forever, Ro.”

My throat grows sticky. I don’t reply, not trusting myself enough to. Instead, I zone in to what we’re about to do.

Her apartment door is almost visible from the entrance of the building, but it’s tucked slightly off-centre, keeping it a bit hidden. From the street, you can’t see too far into the building, and I made damn sure nobody could see Briar coming and going from her apartment door. Not like anyone but me has been perched on the street watching.

Jasper sucks in a few breaths and straightens his shoulders as I lead the way down the hall and to where the door to her place waits. He tucks a finger into his shirt collar and tugs, trying to get some air beneath the fabric.

“You didn’t have to wear a dress shirt,” I tell him.

“I need to make a good impression.”

We stop in front of a wood door with the number 100 on it, and I bring my knuckles to it, knocking twice.

“You will,” I assure him.

He nods jerkily and stares at the door, waiting. “She knows I’m coming, right? You told her it wasn’t just you?”

“Not exactly.”

He gapes, turning his entire body to face me at the same time the door opens. Briar appears in front of us, eyes clear and bright, cheeks the slightest bit red. Dressed in a pair of straight-legged jeans and a shirt cropped just above her waist with the hem frayed, she stares at the both of us, taking in our presence.

“Hey, Petal,” I rumble, keeping my hands hanging loose at my sides instead of reaching for her like I ache to let them do.

Brown lashes flutter as she tucks her lip in between her teeth and focuses on me. The scent dampener in the vents hides the full blast of her lemon and cookies, but being so close to her home offers me a tease of it. I breathe it in, relieved when I feel that same tightening in my gut that I did the first two times I was this close to her.

She rolls her lip, bringing more colour to it as she says, “Hi, Ronan.”

The hands she has folded in front of her are pressing hard into her belly. A nervous tell, maybe.

Slowly, her eyes flick to the right before expanding in size. Still the same beautiful blue shade, they focus completely on Jasper, raking up and down his body like she’s trying to burn him into her memory with only one glance.

“I’m Jasper,” my packmate exclaims, his face redder than a fresh burn. He’s leaning toward her, stealing the space between them inch by inch, almost unknowingly. “You’re Briar. Our omega—I mean, you’reanomega. My scent match.”

Briar drops her eyes for half a second, laughing so softly I almost miss the twinkling noise. When she looks at Jasper again, she’s grinning at him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jasper. I am an omega. And you’re an alpha.”

I press a hand to his chest when he rocks forward on his toes. “Can we come inside?”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” she says, stepping back to make room for us to slip past her.

Jasper follows me, nearly tripping over my heels. I’d laugh at his overeager attitude if I weren’t so on edge with the lack of Briar’s scent. Being so close so soon after finding her and having scent blocker scratching at my nose unsettles me. At Mom’s, thelack of scents doesn’t bother me. But here? I want it everywhere. Hers and mine. Jasper’s too.

It doesn’t feel fair that he’s meeting her without the same openness that I did, either. They can’t smell each other properly yet.

I step into the small apartment and frown. It’s cluttered with her furniture, not one specific piece having enough space. They’re all high-quality, probably nicer than the stuff we have at home.

The fridge is old and yellow, and the tiles in the kitchen are peeling up at the corners. It looks like she tried to DIY some renovations in the kitchen but didn’t finish entirely. A strip of greenish-brown granite cuts through what should be a butcher-block countertop, and one of the silver knobs on the cabinets has fallen off, revealing the brown paint around the screw hole where the rest is white.

Colourful magnets hold up an assortment of photos and a brightly filled-in calendar on the fridge. I want to read what she’s written on it, but I’m pretty sure that would cross me fully into stalker territory, and I’m already too close to that.

“I should have told you I wasn’t coming alone,” I say, twisting away from the fridge.

Briar rushes around the living room, picking up and fluffing all the thick accent pillows on the couch. Her exhale is forced when she finally leaves the decorations alone and adjusts her shirt, tugging at it when it rides up.

“It’s okay. I need to meet everyone eventually, right? I’d prefer to do it now. Do either of you want anything to drink?”

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