Page 90 of Pack Frenzy
“Nothing,” Cassian says roughly.
Wind flips my hair into my face. Eli tucks it behind my ear, slow, careful, his thumb skimming my jaw for one extra beat. Fire pops; waves hush and retreat. The whole beach feels smaller, like the world’s leaning in.
Cassian swipes the last bite of my s’more. I lunge, my hand landing flat against his chest—solid muscle, steady heartbeat. He freezes, grin softening into something slower.
“Come here,” he says, gentle enough that it feels like an offer, not a command.
And I do, kissing him without waiting—without checking if Rowan and Eli are watching. Their gazes slide over my skin like heat, heavy with want and something darker, more possessive.
His mouth tastes like toasted chocolate and marshmallows. Lust rolls through me slow and sure; my fingers slide into his hair, and the sound he makes—rough, hungry—pulls an answering noise from Rowan’s direction that makes my stomach clench.
I can still taste him when I pull away—sugar, rain, something I can’t name. My pulse is everywhere. The air feels different now, charged and fragile, like life has been waiting for me to exhale.
And I’m smiling before I mean to at his smug look. “Don’t get cocky.” “Never,” he lies, brushing another quick kiss.
Rowan feeds the fire, the flames gilding the edges of him. But he’s not looking at the fire. He’s looking at me—at my kiss-swollen lips, at the way Cassian’s hand still rests possessively on my hip. When our eyes meet, the hunger there steals my breath.This isn’t the careful, controlled Rowan who fixes problems. This is the Alpha whowants, and doesn’t bother hiding it anymore.
I look; he looks back. The question hangs unspoken:Will you come to me, or do I need to come get you?
And when I shift closer to him, he’s already moving to meet me.
Rowan cups my jaw; his mouth is patient until it’s not. When I touch his shoulder, control slips, his fingers tightening at my nape, breath catching.
He draws back first, searching for hesitation, and there’s none.
Something eases in his eyes. He drags his thumb across my lips like a promise and lets go. The world drops to the heat in my mouth and the steady thud under my palm where I had him—proof that I can pull him off-balance and he likes it.
Eli hasn’t moved far. His gaze catches mine—steady, warm, and a little undone. But there’s something else underneath: the careful stillness of someone who’s learned to wait for permission, and I hate that he’s not sure of what I’m feeling.
I reach for him first. Chocolate-smudged and unafraid.
The way his breath catches—small, sharp—tells me it matters that I did.
He takes my hand, thumb brushing over my fingers as he steps close until we share the same breath. “You sure?” Always giving me the exit he’d take himself.
“I’m sure.”
Eli kisses like care made tangible…desire wrapped in patience. His hands frame my face, thumbs stroking my temples like he’s memorizing the shape of me. His mouth tastes faintly of cinnamon and salt, and when his teeth catch my lower lip—gentle, deliberate—the quiet sound it pulls from me doesn’t feel like breaking. It feels like a release.
Somewhere under his thumbs, the jitter in me quiets. It’s infuriating how safe that feels. It’s glorious, too.
Behind us, Rowan makes a low sound like approval threaded with want. Cassian’s low whistle lets us know he approves as well.
Tension I didn’t know he was holding finally eases.
“Okay?” he murmurs when we part.
“Better than,” I whisper, the truth humming steady between us.
His thumb traces my jaw one more time in a slow, reverent beat before he lets go. No words, but I feel what he’s not saying in that touch.
Rowan’s hand finds Eli’s shoulder, and he tips closer; Rowan’s mouth skims his temple. Cassian’s fingers brush my knee. The connection settles warm between us—easy, earned, right.
“Too bad this isn’t a private beach,” I say, breathless.
They all look at me—ravenous—but I don’t want to stop this by packing up and leaving. I want to keep this memory.
We finish the chocolate as the sun bleeds out, red at its belly, the sky shifting to bruised gold and violet. I lean back on my hands and let the ocean breathe for me. For once, I’m not calculating exits.
