Page 4 of A Pack of Mistletoe
I drag a hand over my face, tamping down the irritation that threatens to boil over. If Cole knows, others might too. We can’t afford that kind of exposure.
The suite door opens again, and Evander breezes in. His blue-black hair is streaked with violet, red coat swinging around him like a banner. He’s impossible to miss, impossible to ignore.
“What’s got Daddy looking so glum?” he teases, and the casual drop of that name pulls heat low in my gut. My scent spikes before I can reel it in. Evander smirks when he catches it. His own scent, mulled wine, rises to meet me and fuck—
“Logan’s stepbrother knows,” I say flatly.
Evander’s smile falters. For all his brightness, the risk of losing what we’ve built cuts through him too.
“Where are Kai and Wyatt?” Logan asks.
“They went downstairs to assess the site. We need to meet them there.” I set my glass down and stand.
Logan nods and heads for the door. Evander stops him with a light touch to his hand, a brief kiss to his lips—always too open, too forgiving. My chest tightens at the sight. I envy that ease, the way he can love without hesitation.
Evander slips out ahead of us, coat flashing like a spark.
Logan meets my eyes as I pass. There’s a flicker of something there—pleading, regret. Maybe both. His caramel praline scent is burnt. I rest my palm on the back of his neck, firm and grounding. His breath catches. His eyes close. For a moment, I let him feel it, the steadiness, the claim.
Then I let go.
“Let’s go,” I say, and lead the way out. I’m not like Evander. Logan’s going to have to earn back what he broke—if he can.
Rose
Book Club is my favorite time of the month. I look forward to it the way some people look forward to Christmas—something warm, predictable, safe. I’m so glad I get to come one last time.
Today, though, I can’t focus at all. I knew when I ran into Kai this morning, it was over. If he tells his parents about my location, they’ll tellmyparents. On top of that, another text from my brother’s burner phone last night keeps looping in my head.
They’re close. They’re going to find you. RUN.
Every time I think about it, my legs go numb and my lungs seize tight—like someone’s pressing a hand over my chest. Sunny makes a joke about putting my phone down to rest my eyes. I laugh on cue—and something in me cracks a little deeper.
I know it’s annoying, me always glued to my phone, always watching. But I can’t stop. It’s not just work. It’s survival. Beyond the marketing jobs that keep me fed, I’m always tracking my family. Their movements. Their motives. Measuring how close danger is creeping. The weight of it never leaves.
I set my phone on the table and look around Sunny’s living room. Twinkle lights glow against honey-colored walls. The scent of beeswax candles and nutmeg wraps around us, cozy and familiar. My friends laugh softly about something I didn’t catch.
These women. My friends. This town that somehow became home when I wasn’t looking. Every face in this room means more to me than I ever thought I’d let anyone mean again. My original plan had been to get momentum andleave this town after a short period of time. But I’d ended up falling in love with it. With the people, the lake— everything.
A lump builds in my throat, thick and unmovable. My eyes sting. I blink hard, willing the tears back. I can’t cry here. If I do, they’ll know something’s wrong, and they’ll try to fix it.
And I can’t let them.
I just want this night, my last one here, to be happy. I want to remember it like this. All soft laughter and cozy rooms.
I couldn't leave before I got just one more night doing my favorite thing: Book Club, and just being with my friends.
“An omega clause. Can you believe that?” Sunny’s voice snaps me back, halfway through a conversation.
“I can’t believe that shit’s still legal,” Cali says, with a bite I rarely hear from her.
“Well, Cole’s stepdad was a piece of work,” Sunny continues. “Treated Cole like dirt. But Cole still feels guilty because he kind of just left Logan, even though he was really young and there wasn’t much he could do.”
“Was his dad abusive?” Winnie asks, concern written all over her face.
“Not physically, as far as Cole could tell. Just too harsh, too demanding. Didn’t seem like Logan fell too far from the tree, though. He acted like he had a stick shoved up his ass the whole time he was over.”
“So what does the omega clause say? Could they just date an omega and call it good?” Clara asks.
