Page 89 of Power Shift

My pulse skips. “Who?”

We’ve avoided talking about Landon all night. When I arrived an hour ago, he was already hiding away. His scent was strong, though, which told me he was still at home.

“Go talk to him. We’ll be here waiting.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Dash makes a humoured noise in his throat while Jasper palms my ankle, stroking the bone with a slow touch.

“Landon spends hours in the gym after a game. It’s not healthy. Maybe you can help convince him of that,” Jasper suggests.

“I think the last thing he wants is me to convince him of anything,” I argue.

Dash turns his head, taking me in with a worried expression. “Would you check on him instead? For us?”

It’s worth a shot. His lack of acceptance shouldn’t mean that he’s left to struggle alone.

“I’ll try. Don’t get your hopes up, though. I’m the last person he wants checking on him.”

Ronan releases a gruff noise and tugs me into his side. I fit into the curve of his body perfectly, like I was always meant to be right here.

“Call for one of us if you need anything. I’ll come running,” he promises.

I smooth a hand down his thigh, feeling the muscles flex and strain beneath my touch. “Okay.”

His breath catches on a low groan while Jasper slides out from between my legs. My skin flushes at the sound before I’m standing and taking quick steps away from the couch, knowing if I don’t move fast, I’ll wind up stuck here, pinned between two alphas and a curious beta.

“I’ll be back, then,” I rush out, slick pooling in my panties.

Ronan jerks his chin in a forced nod while he grips the arm of the couch. Dash glances at him before Jasper’s shoving pointedly at his knee.

I slip out of the room while their attention isn’t on me and make a beeline for the basement. I’ve only had a brief tour of this area of the house, but as I start down the dimly lit staircase, I let my instincts guide me forward.

The basement is huge, with a couple of bedrooms, a storage room as big as my entire apartment, and the home gym, whichrivals any public one I’ve ever been to. Each door is open besides the one I stop in front of, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon slipping through.

Music pulses behind the door as I hesitate to enter. Somewhere deep inside my chest, I know this should be the last time I try with Landon. If he doesn’t let me in even just a little after this, he probably never will, and forcing myself to believe otherwise isn’t healthy.

I’ll still be able to have a pack of my own, even if it’s not complete.

With a swallow, I glide the door open and step inside. I don’t see him at first. The room is a bit overwhelming with workout machines I’ve never used and racks upon racks of weights. Mirrors are hung on the opposite side of the room while two swinging bags dangle from the ceiling.

My sock-covered feet sink into the black floor as I sway further inside, drawn by the tether in my chest. The hairs on my arms stand up as my skin pebbles. A turn of my head and I’m lost. My knees lock up, forbidding me to run as I stare across the room.

Landon hasn’t noticed me yet. He’s too focused on his exercise.

Large puffs of air escape him as he glares at the ceiling and lifts the weight bar above his chest. His naked, gleaming chest and the carved abdominal muscles that might as well be winking at me as they flex. My eyes struggle to focus as he lowers the bar and grunts, spreading his legs further and digging his heels into the floor.

Again, he lifts the weights. His biceps are thick and round and so damnhardas they carry the weight. I don’t have to feel them to know that. I’ve never seen arms or a chest like that.

His shoulders are wide enough to hang over the bench in a way that I would assume isn’t all that comfortable and despitebeing half hidden in a pair of loose basketball shorts, his thighs are unbelievably muscled.

Heat crawls up my spine and throat before painting my cheeks red. I feel the burn so deep I know there’s no chance of dousing the flames before an ache builds in my belly. Gritting my teeth at the discomfort, I press my thighs together and release a weak breath.

The wall is behind me, too far to lean back against as I gasp, throbbing between my legs. Pressure rises, my scent spiking and flaring wide in a call meant for him.

Another jab goes through my middle, forcing my eyes closed while I wince. There’s a loud clang that rattles in my ears and pricks at my skull. Suddenly, I’m too sensitive, every inch of my skin buzzing.

I choke on the air, Landon’s scent battling mine with an intensity that doesn’t seem real. It just makes everything worse. The yearning in my chest, the throb in my core, and the slick pouring out of me faster than water in a faucet.

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