Page 16 of Into the Fire: Before

The scene sped back up to normal rhythm, and Lin knelt there, one arm cradled under Taryn’s back, the other resting behind her head, ready to cushion it against the concrete if he’d been a blink later.

The four of us stood like statues, too shocked even for our scents to have soured. Me at Lin’s shoulder, breathing heavily. Taryn in his arms. And Brooks ten feet back, looking absolutely stricken. He was the first to move, stepping closer to the three of us with wide eyes and face pale. “I am so sorry. That was stupid—I got wrapped up—god, Taryn, I’m so—”

Fuck second chances!my alpha screamed.He hurt her.

No,the Brea part of me argued.No one is hurt.

My alpha growled.Well, someone’sgonnabe.

Twenty-nine

Brea

Weaksunlightstungmyblinking eyes as I came to consciousness. The bed beside me was empty, the sounds of Taryn rustling around in the bathroom muffled through the almost-closed door.

Memory of last night washed over me like a polluted tidal wave.

The chemistry. The spark. The way my omega absolutely shone.

And then me, the enormous feral wrecking ball who’d absolutely ruined all of it.

Lin had held my hand, kept me calm while Brooks looked over Taryn. It spoke to the connection between us already, really, that his presence had been soothing enough to my alpha that I hadn’tactuallylunged for Brooks like it wanted me to. But I’d eyed Brooks the entire time he made sure Taryn was okay, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. Oher than a slightly tender ankle, though, she was perfectly fine.

As Brea the Human knew she would be. Brea the Alpha? Less trusting.

There had been no salvaging the mood after that, and Taryn had escorted me home. Where I’d promptly crashed from the adrenaline spike.

No wonder my head was heavy and buzzy—it always was after an alphadrenaline rush. A karmic hangover of epic proportions. I groaned, burying myself under the blankets, as though the humiliation wouldn’t find me under there.

Soothing notes of omega wafted over me, sweet toffee and cream, and the mattress dipped as Taryn sat beside me. “You alive under there?” she asked in a soft, only slightly jesting tone.

I huffed, uncovering my head. I probably looked a mess, hair tangled over my face and circles under my eyes. Taryn, though, was gorgeous. Perfect, as always, with her dark hair pulled into one messy braid down her back, a casual blush tee and jeans, and her favorite worn white sneakers. It was rare that Taryn was up and ready before me, but she had a Sunday morning shift, and I was currently playing the role of Karma’s Bitch. So.

I frowned. “No.”

“Too bad,” Taryn said. “I kinda liked having you around. And organizing a funeral is gonna be such apain. I may outsource.”

“Ha, ha,” I said, sitting up with a grunt. “God, I hate alphadrenaline.”

“You and me both.” She held out a glass of water and a few white pills. “Should help you feel more human.”

I hummed in appreciation, taking both from her. “You’re an angel.”

I took the aspirin and leaned back against the wall, holding my glass in my lap. “Taryn, I’m…I’m sorry for last night.”

“Brea, no.” She gripped my hand. “You don’t—”

“Yes, I do. I let my anxiety and my alpha take control last night and ruined the perfectly lovely evening we were all having. We’ll be lucky if there isn’t an eviction notice taped to the door.”

That was the worst bit of it all. Caine aside, we’d both felt so instantly at ease with Pack Arceneaux. We weren’t looking to grow our pack—we were happy with our duo—but Taryn’s heat would be coming in six weeks, seven at most. We’d given certified heat attendants a try, but we’d had the most luck when we’d encountered other small packs, built the rapport, then engaged them to help out on our own.

Pack Arceneaux could’ve been an option. And now, I’d ruined it before theready, set, go.

“You’re too hard on yourself. Nothing even happened.”

I was in no mood to be comforted. “Hope you enjoyed lugging those boxes up the stairs yesterday because chances are we’ll be hauling them back down by next weekend.”

“Breeeaa.”

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