Page 54 of Into the Fire: Before

DearPackArceneaux,

You are cordially invited to partake in the heat of Omega Taryn Rose Maddox. Also in attendance will be Alpha Brea Lorinne Maddox.

Should the current timetable persist, said heat should commence approximately three weeks hence, and endure for an estimated three days.

The duties and responsibilities entailed in acting as a heat partner are considerable, and no ill will or grudge shall be held against you should you decline this invitation. Should youaccept, boundaries and preferences shall be discussed in detail prior to commencement.

Please find enclosed the RSVP card, and please return at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely, Pack Maddox

PS: But for real, guys, no pressure! Whatever you choose, we’re all good. ;)

Caine

Istoodfrozeninfront of the wall of mailboxes. Even though the letter was handwritten in an imperfect script, on computer paper, with a sarcastic tone, it didn’t negate the trust it took to make this request. It had come in a standard white envelope but was sealed with swirling silver wax, another touch of spontaneous elegance.Pack Arceneauxwas scrolled across the front, and the invitation itself likewise addressed the pack as a whole.

I already knew they didn’t mean me too.

Still, I shook the second card into my hand and turned it right-side up.

Lin, accept [ ] decline [ ]

Brooks, accept [ ] decline [ ]

Caine, accept [ ] decline [ ]

My stomach lurched and my knees nearly fucking buckled. I cast a look around the corner of the lobby, but I was alone.

They can’t mean me too.

Not only because I’d alienated Taryn at every possible turn, but Brea was my fucking therapist.

Can I share a heat with my therapist?

Therapy was fucking torture, but in my half dozen appointments thus far, Brea had been patient, insightful, understanding. I’d held plenty back, but I’d also let plenty out.

Like the fact I wasn’t on alpha supplements.

Like the reason why I wasn’t on the supplements.

Like the hatred I had for myself for not being able to take the supplements.

No, I couldn’t share a heat with my therapist. And I wouldn’t start over with someone else.

Clearly, they’d included my name knowing I’d decline. Part of me appreciated the thought, though the majority of me resented the pity.

Old Caine may have crumpled the paper. Some much older version of Caine may have even ripped it to shreds and thrown it out, kept it from his packmates out of spite. The Caine who was in progress—painstaking as it was—simply closed the mailbox and headed upstairs.

Seventeen

Taryn

Todaywasgoingaboutas well as using a cactus for a dildo. A misplaced house key meant I’d showed up nearly twenty minutes late for my shift, which meant Jennie was pissed. A pissed Jennie meant a truly, utterly, completely miserable me.

Whenever Jennie took a break on the Making Taryn Miserable front, the customers had been more than happy to pick up the slack. There were the parents who’d placed their drink orders over the ungodly shrieking of their toddler, who they ignored. Then I’d accidentally made a raspberry lemon iced tea instead of a raspberry mint iced tea, which had earned me a huffy encounter with an older male beta. An icy soda was knocked over, drenching me from the waist down and dooming me to walk in squelchy tennis shoes for the afternoon.

And the absolute cherry on top of everything was the splitting headache that had come on after serving an alpha whoreekedof lemon. Not lemons on a salad or in lemonade either, but lemon like a bad cough syrup or overly heavy cleaning product. Thescent seemed to have burrowed through my nasal canals and set up camp right in my sinuses, every move and blink resulting in a fiery ember lighting between my eyes.

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