Page 36 of Stuck with my Pack
Brodie pushes off the counter, his smirk returning. “If anyone can get through to him, it’s her.”
I shake my head, my lips twitching. “Probably right.”
Brodie claps me on the shoulder, then nods toward the kitchen. “Come on. I made coffee.”
15
ETHAN
The cool air bites at my skin as I stand among the apple trees, pruning shears in hand. The storm passed last night, leaving everything drenched and smelling like damp earth and rain-soaked wood.
There’s a quiet here, a rhythm to the work that keeps my Alpha in check, for the most part. The repetitive snip of the shears and the rustle of leaves help ease the tension knotted in my chest.
But no matter how much I try to focus, my thoughts keep drifting—back to Sophie. Always Sophie. Her scent still lingers in my head, a soft, grounding sweetness with a wild edge that feels like it’s branded on my soul.
I can’t shake the image of her flushed cheeks, the way she felt around my fingers, the fire in her eyes when she dismissed me at the festival. She’s always been like that—stormy, unpredictable, impossible not to want.
A flicker of movement catches my eye, and my heart skips. Sophie. She’s striding through the orchard, her determined gait cutting through the serenity like a blade. My pulse quickens as I straighten, instinctively bracing for whatever’s coming.
This isn’t a casual visit. I can feel it in the air— and the change to her scent, sharp, charged, and humming with tension.
She doesn’t stop until she’s right in front of me, holding a crumpled piece of paper in her hand like it’s a weapon. Her scent hits me, stronger now—sour and bitter, tinged with anger and frustration. It makes my Alpha stir, restless, and protective.
“Did you do this?” she demands, her voice sharp enough to cut. She holds the letter up, shaking it slightly for emphasis.
“Do what?” I ask, keeping my tone calm despite the way my chest tightens.
“Don’t play dumb, Ethan,” she snaps. “The county complaint. Structural and safety violations. If this goes through, they’ll shut down the inn. Did you file it?”
My jaw tightens, and I take a slow breath to steady myself. “You really think I’d do that to you? After everything I’ve tried to help with?”
She crosses her arms, her eyes blazing. “I don’t know, Ethan. You’ve been distant. Critical. Hot and cold…” She cuts herself off, her cheeks flushing, but I know exactly what she’s about to say.
My Alpha growls low in my chest, defensive and frustrated. “I’ve done nothing but try to protect you, Sophie!” I snap, the words sharper than I intend. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve been holding back? How hard it’s been to not just—” I stop myself, dragging a hand through my hair.
“To not just what?” she presses, her voice trembling with anger and vulnerability.
“To not claim you, to say fuck it all and not care about the consequences!” I shout, my voice breaking with the force of my emotions.
The confession hangs in the air between us, raw and unguarded. “I wouldn’t sabotage the inn, Sophie, because I‘mstill so fucking in love with you that I can’t sleep at night. I have loved you since I first saw you, and damn it, I never stopped!”
My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.
Her mouth falls open, her eyes wide with shock. She doesn’t say anything at first, and the silence is deafening. I can see the battle playing out on her face—anger, confusion, and something softer that she’s trying so hard to hide.
I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “I didn’t file that complaint. But I’ll help you fight it. I’ll help you with anything, Sophie, because I can’t just stand by and watch you struggle. It hurts to not be at your side and help you with all of this shit. I always should have been by your side.”
Her lips part like she’s about to respond, but then she shakes her head, her hands trembling at her sides. “I can’t do this right now,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. She’s retreating, curling in herself.
She takes a step back, and it feels like a punch to the gut. My Alpha roars in protest, wanting to grab her, to hold her, to make her stay. But I don’t. I let her go, even though it feels like my chest is being torn open.
“Sophie, wait—” I start, but she’s already turning, her hair whipping around her face as she strides away.
I watch her retreat, disappearing through the rows of apple trees, her scent fading with every step. My hands clench into fists at my sides, frustration and longing swirling in my chest like a storm.
“You can’t keep hiding from this, Sophie!” I yell after her, the words bitter and raw. I’m fighting my need to go after her and comfort her. To do whatever she needs.
The orchard feels too quiet without her, the weight of her absence pressing down on me. I glance at the letter she left crumpled on the ground, picking it up and smoothing it out with trembling fingers.
