Page 22 of Pack Frenzy
Because the last time I hoped for something, Sabrina walked into Nexus and never came out.
CHAPTER 6
CASSIAN
The plane of oak won’t stop catching on the same groove, no matter how I angle the blade. I could swap to the orbital sander. I don’t. I want the drag. I want the grit under my palm, the sting at my wrist, something real to push against.
Around me, the house hums, ducts ticking as the AC settles, distant birds, Eli’s cursed smart fridge doing its once-an-hour throat-clear. We framed these walls while Meredith was still alive. She liked the smell of cut pine and lemon oil, said it made her think anything could be built if you just kept going long enough.
She never saw the sheetrock go up, or the roof, she never slept here.
I push the plane again. Shavings curl up like pale ribbons. The bench light throws a tight circle on my hands, scar lines pale against my skin. There’s a bruise along my thumb from using the wrong mallet earlier. Sloppy. No excuse.
Rowan’s boots hit the workshop threshold before he speaks. He never knocks. He doesn’t need to. He’s the kind of Alpha who commands a room no matter who’s in it. I can see why Eli’s attracted to him. Hell, I would be too if I were bi or gay.
“You’re chewing the same board,” he says.
“Board deserves it.”
Silence clings for a few heartbeats. He smells like sandalwood and rain that never quite falls. Calm, until it isn’t.
“She locked her door,” he says finally.
“Good,” I answer. As much as I’d love for this to work out, I know better than to imagine a future. One day at a fucking time, that’s all I can give, all I have.
He exhales. “Don’t shut her out.”
“That your read on me?” I set the plane down, wipe my palm on a rag. “That I’m avoiding?”
“You’re building. Same thing when you’re hiding.”
I stare at the oak. The knot stares back. “Not hiding.”
“What then?”
Want. The word is a hard swallow. It tastes like blood and old, soft things I don’t name.
“I’m not the problem,” I say. “Not the kind of problem you think.”
Rowan’s gaze flicks to my hands. To the scar that came from Blake’s teeth. Then to my jaw. There’s history there…my knuckles breaking on our kitchen tile, Blake’s face in my grip, Rowan’s arm locking my shoulder until something popped. Eli shouting. Sirens. Money. Lawyers. Meredith’s laugh stuck in a closet of memory I don’t open after midnight and when I’m alone.
“We’re not doing the Blake talk,” I say.
“Wasn’t planning to,” Rowan says. He studies me like he’s weighing an order and a favor on the same scale. “Just—give her a chance to know us. All of us.”
Us. Not Blake. The three of us who remain. The only promise I keep without a reminder.
But the truth is, Jess is already getting under my skin, under my defenses. They both saw it. How she demanded I use her name instead of anything else.
“Don’t lecture me, Rowan. This Omega hasn’t even been here a day. We all need time to adjust and figure out if this is even going to work.”
Rowan nods once, a seal on a shared thing. “Eli’s starting dinner in an hour.”
“Copy.”
He leaves me with the board, the knot, and everything I don’t say. How Jess’s scent wraps around me whenever I’m near her. How I want to crush her to me and never let go. But she’s a stranger, and she shouldn’t feel like home, like a second chance.
And I worry I’m gonna fuck it up somehow.
