Page 80 of Power Shift

“You don’t owe me anything. We’re not mates.”

“How can you know that already, Dash? We’ve only known one another for a month. Less than that, really.”

Instead of nausea, it’s unease that creeps into my gut. “It should have been immediate. I would have recognized you, and you would have recognized me. That’s how it works.”

“According to who? My omega loves how you smell, even if your scent is a little more subtle than the others, and I feel . . . comfortable with you. How do we know that beta and omegabonds don’t take longer to snap into place than alpha and omega ones do?” she asks.

In the back of my mind, I know she’s right. Everything she’s saying makes sense. Especially when I take the break in conversation to realize that my nausea hasn’t just eased; it’s retreated completely with her closeness. Not only that, but my headache is also gone. I open my eyes and blink, taking in the empty kitchen before turning my head to glance at her.

Her beauty is almost startling. Up close, her freckles are more distinguishable, and the dip of her full upper lip is a defined V rather than a soft U. Black makeup clings to her lashes, framing her eyes and contrasting the pale blue within them.

When I don’t reply to her, she breathes in a long exhale and, with her voice steady, adds, “I know you and Landon don’t trust me, and I’m really trying not to take that personally. What happened with him in the past is his business, and I can appreciate your loyalty. I guess I just want to reassure you that I’m not here to try and further divide your pack. I’m the outsider here, so I’m just trying to see where I could potentially fit in. Being here with all of you and offering to take care of you, even if just to cook a simple meal, is my way of figuring that out.”

Guilt is a sharp and unforgiving emotion, and when it strikes, you oftentimes will bleed. Right now, I’m drowning in it, iron tangy on my tongue.

“We eat a lot,” I say, slowly extending a branch for her to take.

She doesn’t ignore it. “So do my dads.”

“Jas keeps the pantry stocked pretty good regardless of how much we’re planning on being home because we’re snackers. If there’s nothing in the fridge, I’d check there next.”

“I’ll do that, then. Thank you,” she says, eyes brightening.

“Am I good to stay here? I’m still recovering from the flight, and sitting here helps.”

Yeah, sitting here with her nearby. That’s a good sign. Maybe she’s right after all and this is the way things are supposed to be. If not, at least we can be sure that we could get along.

I’ll take the small win.

26

JASPER

“Do you like to cook?”I ask, focused solely on Briar the way I have been since I found her in the kitchen.

An hour later and I’m still watching her as intently as I was when she was moving around my kitchen, cracking open every cupboard and drawer in her search of supplies. The chicken soup cooling in the bowl in front of me smells better than anything we’ve ever made in this kitchen before.

Ronan dives into his immediately, the steam swirling above his bowl not deterring him. Briar’s eyes twinkle with hope as she watches him.

“I enjoy it. Usually more when I get to cook for other people. Clover hogs that responsibility most of the time, so I’m stuck creating meals for one,” she answers me, still eyeing Ronan.

He’s like a dog who hasn’t been fed in weeks. My mouth is gaping as he plows through the soup, barely chewing the chicken and vegetables before swallowing.

“I think it’s safe to say that you can cook for us anytime you want. If you give us the chance to do the same,” I say.

Ronan blinks, seemingly realizing how feral he appears and making a show of chewing his next spoonful. It’s comical the way he tries to tame himself around Briar, as if she wasn’t watching him with complete devotion while he tore into his food.

I dip my spoon into the hot soup and load it up with a bit of everything before bringing it to my mouth. The immediate burst of flavour on my tongue makes it easier to understand Ronan’s lack of table manners.

“This is really, really good,” Dash tells her, speaking my thoughts out loud.

“You didn’t have all the normal ingredients I would have used, but I tried my best. Maybe next time I come over, I can bring some of my own groceries?”

I swallow my mouthful and clear my throat when my stomach growls, demanding more. “How about you just give us a list of what you need, and we’ll make sure it’s here for you.”

“That goes for anything,” Ronan adds.

Briar kneads her lip with her teeth and darts her eyes between all three of us. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

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