Page 66 of Power Shift

Jasper speaks next, feet shuffling. “It doesn’t matter who knew what. Come with me, love. You need to eat. We can talk more about this after.”

“I’m not really hungry,” the omega argues weakly.

“I know. At least let us try to feed you. If you end up not eating, I’m sure Ronan will have your portion,” Dash barters.

It’s not very common to have a beta in an all-alpha pack. Nobody I knew growing up had one in theirs, and I’m still unsure why. When I met Dash, we were just kids with no idea how or when we’d create an official pack.

It was fun to play around with the idea and make imaginary plans for our future. Not even one of us thought it was weird or out of place to have Dash be a part of our family when the day came to make things official.

My father didn’t agree and made sure to tell me his opinion on it several times over the course of my life, but it didn’t make a difference.

When you meet your packmates, it’s forever. You feel the pull, and that’s that. In a perfect world, I would have taken one look at Briar in that restaurant and inhaled her scent before deciding the same thing.

Every instinct I have is telling me that the gorgeous omega downstairs is my scent match, but I know how easy it can be to let desperation drive you. The last time I watched that happen, I was on the outside looking in as my father and his packmates doted on my mother for half of my childhood as alphas mated to their scent match would. Nobody was expecting the truth to come out after they were so sure about it. The marks on my mother’s neck were nails in a rotting coffin.

She was nothing more than a con artist, and she played everyone. Even me. Neither my father nor his prior pack ever met their scent match. The woman who I call my mother was after them for one thing, and it wasn’t love. She did everything possible to convince them otherwise, and it worked. A bottle of custom omega perfume and my father’s pack was a lost fool for her. Everything fell apart after that.

I refuse to allow myself to fall into a similar trap. Even if not being with Briar is killing me slowly. The pain now is better than the possibility of destruction later.

They continue talking as I push off the wall and silently creep down a single stair. The metal railing is cold in my hot palms, and I grip it tight, swallowing a hiss when it digs too deep.

Our main floor is made up of an open living and dining room, a kitchen facing the backyard, three full bathrooms, and four bedrooms we use as an office and storage rooms. The stairs look out at the kitchen with the living room beside them, and the openness allows me to see Briar where she stands at the wideisland, her back to me as Jasper pulls two pizzas from the oven and sets them on the stovetop.

Ronan and Dash are seated on bar stools on either side of her, both staring like they’re scared if they look away, she’ll disappear. Jasper makes a joke, and Dash laughs, the sound so nice to hear that it’s grating. I hate how badly I want to be there with them. It’s been months since we’ve laughed together like that.

I could hold a pity party for myself, but what good would that do? If I want to protect our pack, that means inserting myself into situations where Briar has them all by the balls. Leaving them alone with her won’t do me any favours, even if being close to her could be worse for me than distance.

“You know what? On second thought, I’m starving,” I announce, steeling my spine as I join them downstairs.

Briar jumps, her hair whipping through the air as she turns to look at me. Her naturally pouty pink lips part around nothing.

“Great. You changed your mind just in time,” Dash tells me.

Ronan narrows his eyes, trying to read my blank expression. “You’re not welcome here right now.”

“Ronan,” Jasper lightly scolds.

“Are you going to say something if I stay?” I dare him.

“It’s okay. Hi again, Landon,” Briar says, mouth curling at the corner.

It’s a fake fucking smile.

I pass them all and open the fridge, digging through it for the last blue Gatorade. Cracking the lid, I close the door with my hip.

The drink smells strong, but it’s still not enough to hide the sweetness of her lemon cookie scent. My cock twitches, growing stiff in a fucking blink behind the zipper of my jeans.

“We were just about to start comparing schedules. I suggested Briar come to our next game,” Jasper says, being the first of my pack to speak to me without outright malice.

I choke on the Gatorade and set the bottle on the island. Frustration bubbles in my gut, but I ignore it with a clearing of my throat.

“Great.”

“I’m not much of a hockey fan. I hope that’s not a deal breaker,” Briar warns.

My brow shoots up on its own. “Why not?”

It’s silent for a moment, nobody answering me before she does, those pale blue eyes too curious for her own good.

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