Page 7 of Power Shift

The bright light from the flat screen burns into my retinas, drawing a sigh from deep in my chest. I set the controller on my stomach and rest my head back against the couch.

The hard pulse of music coming from the room beneath mine grows in volume, the lyrics becoming clearer and clearer. It’s impossible not to smile when you know that the hard-as-granite Ronan has an unhealthy obsession with New Medicine and Sleep Token. The song he chose to start his workout with is one of the harder songs in his playlist, but it isn’t anything close to what Landon forces us to listen to when he joins us in the gym.

I’ve already worked out today, but hey, I’m bored. After getting changed into some loose shorts and a tee, I head to the basement and join the big bad alpha in the gym.

His grunts are audible over the music as I stroll to where his phone lies on the bench press and turn the wireless speakers down a bit.

“You’re going to blow your eardrums one of these days,” I tell him.

Dark eyes pierce into my light blue ones from across the gym. Ronan keeps his expression blank, emotions completely at his control. The sweat already beading on his forehead and across the wide, muscled expanse of his chest is a sign of just how hard he’s pushing himself.

Both of his hands are wrapped around the bar above him. He doesn’t let my presence take away from his concentration. Calm and steady, he pulls himself up until his bent knees hover above the black mats and his chin touches the bar.

I step up onto the treadmill and watch him while choosing the options I want for tonight. I’ll be dead for practice tomorrow if I do too much. The only reason Ronan and Landon can push themselves as hard as they do and not face repercussions is because they’re alphas. They wouldn’t have such luck if they were betas like me.

“Is there a reason why you’re spending another night in the gym?” I ask.

The treadmill kicks into gear beneath my feet, and I start walking. Without spending any time stretching, a fast walk is all I’m planning on doing.

Ronan grunts low and continues his pull-ups. The pace he’s keeping is a bit concerning. Every confident rise of his body has his biceps bulging so fiercely the veins threaten to pop right out of his skin.

His jaw is tight enough to crack in two. “Can’t sleep.”

“What’s keeping you up?”

Instead of answering, he drops to his feet and abandons the bar, thumping his way over to the weight bench. His silence isn’tsurprising in the slightest, but it is a bit frustrating. Especially when all I want is to help.

“I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong,” I add.

He busies himself with overloading the weight bar, giving me his back. The black ink on his shoulder matches the ink on mine. It’s a reassuring sight with how tense we’ve all been recently.

“I never asked for your help, Dash,” he bites out.

Now lying on the bench, he spreads his legs and presses his heels firmly to the mats. There’s at least two hundred and fifty pounds on that bar already, and without a spotter, he’s risking crushing his entire upper half.

“Christ, Ro. We’re pack, in case you forgot. Ask me to spot you next time,” I scold before turning off the treadmill and jogging toward him. “You’re no good to anyone, including the team, if you’ve got a shattered trachea.”

Stepping up behind him, I hover my hands beneath the bar with every rise and fall, tracking the movements. Fifteen reps later and he doesn’t show any sign of stopping.

“Talk to me, Ronan.”

“It’s too quiet,” he forces out.

“Too quiet in what way?”

His eyes glue themselves to the ceiling. “Nobody talks.”

“You’ve never talked much.”

“There are four of us.”

I tap the bar when he lowers it again, this time watching as his arms shake on the push up. “I know. When was the last time everyone was home all at once?”

“Landon prefers to be anywhere but here.”

“He’s under a lot of pressure.”

His scoff is deep and full of resentment that I’ve known has been inside of him, growing and growing with every passing day.

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