Page 51 of Power Shift

It’s concerning, to say the least. Landon isn’t the guy to run away from his problems. There’s a reason he’s pack leader, and it isn’t just because he’s the biggest of us all and can command nearly any alpha to follow his directions with a single bark. Hehas the natural leadership needed for the position, and we’ve all witnessed it more than a dozen times.

The topic of an omega has ruffled him more than he’s letting on, and I’m feeling hopeless to fix everything.

We don’t speak much on the drive to Landon’s family home. I’m no alpha, but even I can smell the lingering cleaning products on the upholstery. Even with Landon’s window rolled down and the sunroof open, it refuses to disappear. Whatever happened to make him take such drastic efforts to clean this thing is beyond me. By the time we’re pulling around the circle driveway, I’m pretty sure my face has windburn.

“Last chance to back out,” Jasper says, leaning up between the front seats.

Landon turns off the engine and pushes his door open. “We won’t stay long.”

“Works for me. As long as I get some of Jasper’s potato skins, I’m good,” I say.

Jasper shakes the tinfoil container. “Potato skins? These are stuffed mushroom.”

“Wash your mouth out with soap, Jas. You wouldn’t dare.”

“Back me up here, Ronan. You saw me cutting them this morning, right?” Jasper asks the grumpy ass leaning against the SUV.

“Yeah. Smelled ’em too.”

“Don’t joke about potato skins. Especially not in the same breath as the mere mention of mushrooms. In what world does eating fungi sound healthy for anyone, let alone humans?” I ask, shivering.

“Pretty sure wolves eat that shit right from the ground,” Ronan grumbles.

I tug my brows together in disgust and blink at him. “It’s a good thing we’re not wolves, then, isn’t it?”

Jasper chuckles, cracking the corner of the tinfoil just enough to expose the cheesy potatoes inside the container. The smell of bacon and green onions makes my stomach scream for food.

“No mushrooms here, Dash.”

“Are you done?” Landon asks, his tone exposing how stressed he is.

It sobers the rest of us up.

“We’re right behind you,” I say.

He exhales, taking another look at the three of us before leading the way to the front door. His stepmom is already there waiting for us.

“Boys! Come, come. You’re right on time. Dinner’s just about done,” she exclaims, ushering us in one by one.

Landon bundles her into his arms for a hug, lingering there while we shuffle around the grand foyer. “Hey, Daph.”

The tiny omega with a short red bob and lipstick to match squeezes him tight before pulling back to look him over. Her worry is to be expected. We all feel it.

“You look terrible, Landon. Let me feed you before you wither away to nothing. Have you been eating at all recently?” She flashes quick looks at the rest of us with enough ire to make us straighten. “What use is a pack if you don’t look after one another? Hmm?”

Jasper offers a soft smile. “We’ve been trying, Mrs. Montgomery.”

“Stubborn male,” she chastises her stepson. When she releases him, Landon stares down at her sheepishly. “To the dining room. We’ll eat immediately.”

Her soothing lavender scent runs rampant through the extravagant home, burying all hints of Landon’s father. For as long as I’ve known my packmate, it’s been this way. I think itrelaxes everyone. Landon’s father smells angry all the time, even when he isn’t.

“Christ, Landon. You look like you need a coffin to sleep in,” he grunts, appearing at his wife’s side dressed in light grey slacks and a deep green polo that coordinates perfectly with her dress.

Landon settles between me and Ronan, saying, “So I’ve heard.”

“How is your knee?”

“Good as new,” Landon lies.

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