The Gamma’s Second Chance (Crescent Lake #3)

2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

NOLAN

SEVEN YEARS LATER

Wake up. Eat breakfast. Go on a run. Take a shower. That’s been my daily routine for the last almost seven years. It’s repetitive and monotonous, but it’s predictable and stable. And that predictability and stability is what got me through the darkest days of my life. The days following Kimberly’s rejection. That, and Wesley, who was the one forcing me to get up, eat breakfast, go for a run, and take a shower.

The routine started at his prodding and insistence that I find something to do and focus on, something to get me out of bed in the morning and work off the pain and misery of losing my mate bond. But gradually it morphed from something I did because someone told me to, to something I did because I wanted to and needed to. And now I thrive on the predictable routine.

Tiny claws scrape on the cement behind me, and I whip my head around to find Cavalier, the almost one-year-old husky-wolf hybrid puppy Wesley adopted in the fall, trotting along behind me, wearing that ridiculous light purple tutu Maya made from Luna Haven’s Lilac Fairy costume when Wesley brought him home.

It’s beyond me how he hasn’t destroyed it yet, what with all the roughhousing he does with the pack pups and the times he just disappears into the forest for hours on end before returning at the most random of times in the unlikeliest of places. I’m not convinced Maya, being a hybrid, didn’t put some sort of spell on the tutu to keep it intact and pristine.

It’s been close to six months since Wesley adopted him, bringing him into the pack to help cheer Haven up the same day she announced her pregnancy to him, and he’s blended into our lives seamlessly. He treats Haven the same as any of our pack members—with love and respect—and checks on the pup in her belly with his nose every time she comes home from her ballet rehearsals. And he’s taken a shine to me too, joining me on my daily run for several months now, as well as showing up unannounced at my house when Haven and Wes are off territory and he’s lonely. I think he recognizes me as his luna’s protector and, therefore, has adopted me as a sort of second family.

“What’s up, Cav?” I ask, pausing my run with my hands on my hips.

He stops, too, a few feet away from me, cocking his head to the side and staring at me with his tongue lolling out. His tail wags as he waits, playing the little game of ours we’ve played every morning since just after the new year, looking way too fucking ridiculous and yet somehow equally adorable in his tutu.

“Let’s go, little guy,” I say, waving him forward to run at my side.

A little guy he is not, but the nickname has stuck ever since Wesley heard Haven call him that.

Cav jumps playfully on his front paws, then bolts forward, sprinting ahead of me like a bullet train, streamlining his body for speed. I chase after him, and he slows down when I reach him. We jog side by side, both of us enjoying the temperate morning air.

Spring has arrived in full force at Crescent Lake. The mornings are warm and the days are warmer, melting away all traces of the small amounts of snow we received this year. Bees buzz around the flowers in the garden and the wildflowers growing around the lake and up the mountain, and the chirping of freshly hatched baby birds echoes around the forest. The pups are rowdy and antsy for the long summer nights we’ll have here in a few months, and everyone is ready for the annual spring festival coming up soon.

The humongous stretch of green training fields comes into sight, dotted with sparring and training warriors, all overseen by Sebastian and Reid—who are now our delta and beta, respectively—and a baby wrapped against Reid’s chest.

I lift my hand in greeting to them as Cav and I run over to the water jugs, and I grab a quick drink and catch my breath, watching the warriors as they work out. Sebastian and Reid both wear almost matching stern scowls, a mask they’ve both perfected over the years they’ve been overseeing the warrior trainings. But Reid’s is hard to take seriously when Savannah is in his arms, her little chubby baby hands curled under her cheek as she sleeps against his chest, and he occasionally ducks his chin to kiss the top of her head. I chuckle and shake my head, lips twitching as I chug the rest of my water and make my way over to him, Cav on my heels.

“Why do you have a baby in a wrap at a warrior training?” I ask, standing beside him and surveying the warriors under his watch.

“Why is the tutu-wearing wolf following you around?” he retorts, eyes flicking down to said tutu-wearing wolf.

I shrug. “Cav keeps me company.”

“She’s keeping me company,” he echoes back. “And my dad has a video appointment with his therapist, so he couldn’t watch her today. Not that I mind getting extra Sour Patch snuggles.”

“How is your dad?”

“He’s better. He still has rough days. Nothing like before, though. He asks for help now when he knows he can’t cope.”

I nod. “He does seem more like his old self. Like how he was before your mom died.”

Reid nods too, his hand idly stroking Savvy’s back as she snoozes, his eyes flicking to his mate, Taryn, where she practices her hits and kicks against a training dummy. Even at almost six months pregnant, her bump isn’t a hindrance. Her skills are still top-notch, honed by years of self-disciplined training and refined with the help of Reid after they met over a year ago. She finishes the round of exercises and grabs her water bottle, waving at us.

“Nice work, Cadet! Go ahead and take a lap!” Reid calls to her, his hands covering Savvy’s ears so he won’t wake her. Taryn smiles at him and turns around, heading towards the edge of the field to start her run. Reid’s eyes linger on her, the bright blue of them glittering with pride, and he leans over to me, talking out of the corner of his mouth so he doesn’t have to take his eyes off of her. “I’m totally tapping that later.”

He bites his lip and wiggles his brows, and I throw my head back and howl with laughter. “And people are surprised Taryn is already knocked up again.”

Reid’s nose wrinkles, and he finally breaks his staring contest with Taryn’s butt. “Who is surprised?”

“No one is actually surprised. I just meant… never mind.” I glance at my watch and then clap him on the shoulder. “I’ve gotta get home and shower. I’ll see you later.”

“Does Haven have rehearsal today?” he asks as I walk away.

I pause my steps and shake my head. “No, she has an appointment. I took the day off from everything else as well, so I can drive Rachel back to the airport.”

His brows pinch together. “I feel like a broken record when I ask this, but I thought you two ended things when she moved away?”

“We… did…”

“You ended things—mutually, so says you—and yet you drive her from and to the airport and fuck her every time she visits?”

I bristle and cross my arms, immediately getting defensive. “I don’t fuck her every time she visits.”

That’s a lie. We totally sleep together every time she visits. She’s literally asleep, naked, in my bed as I stand here speaking to him. But I don’t need to confess that to him.

And I’m not even going to touch on the “mutually” part of his sentence. Because that’s one of the biggest lies I’ve told everyone since the day she flew across the country and left me behind. Unless by “mutual” he means she said “I’m moving” and I let her walk away without trying to convince her to stay. Then yes, I guess you could say it was mutual.

Reid raised a brow. “Who are you trying to convince?”

“We are still… friendly.”

“Friendly.” He huffs out a laugh and smirks. “Right.”

I sigh and shake my head and continue my journey home. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you around,” I throw over my shoulder.

Cavalier follows me around the training fields and towards the lake, breaking away from me to head back to Haven and Wesley’s home as I make my way to my house. I used to reside in the gamma apartment in the packhouse, but since Haven and Wesley didn’t live in the packhouse, it made more sense to live in town like they did, so I could be available to do my gamma duties on shorter notice, and I moved out shortly after Haven moved in with Wesley.

I head straight upstairs when I get home and gather my clothes to change into after my shower, pausing only to greet a dozing Rachel. She has the blankets tucked up under her chin, and I kiss her cheek and her forehead, then go into the bathroom to check off the next step in my daily routine.

I don’t rush, but I don’t exactly take my time either. The warm, steamy shower soothes my muscles from my run and washes away the sweat and grime, and while I enjoy the massaging streams as they pound against my skin, I also want to spend every last second I can with Rachel before she flies back to Boston again. I settle for long enough to soothe my aching muscles but short enough to maybe get in at least a quick hot and heavy make-out session with her before we leave for the airport.

But when I exit the bathroom after my shower, dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt, she’s nowhere to be found in the bedroom. The tan sheets are changed, the bed is made, and her bag is no longer by the window. I frown, but slip my shoes on and grab my things from the dresser, sliding them into my pockets as I make my way out of the room and down the stairs.

Rachel stands at the door, her straight brown hair pulled back into a low, loose ponytail hanging over her shoulder, her suitcase at her feet as she fiddles with her phone. My feet slow as I step off the last stair, my hand trailing behind me on the banister.

“Hey,” I say, pausing with my hand still on the railing, my brows furrowing.

She whips her head around to stare at me, her eyes wide in surprise, her body utterly still, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Hi,” she squeaks out.

“What are you doing?”

She presses her lips together, shoving her phone in the back pocket of her black jeans before crossing her arms and looking down at her feet. “My dad is driving me to the airport. He’ll be here in a few minutes. I was actually hoping he’d be here before you finished your shower. You usually shower for longer.”

My hands slide into my pockets, and I move closer to her. “I told you I would drive you. I’m not working today.”

Rachel shakes her head and looks up at me, taking a small step closer to the door, away from me. “It’s better this way, Nolan.”

“Better what way? What do you mean?”

She sighs. “I’m not coming back to California for… a while. I have a really big job I just booked for a pack back east, remodeling their entire packhouse, and I don’t know how long it will take. But it was the impetus I needed to rip the Band-Aid off and quit you cold turkey.”

I flinch back as her words hit me like tiny splinters of shattered glass, each one slicing into me with surprising force. “Quit me?”

“Yes.”

I frown at her and cross my arms. “I’m not a drug, Rachel.”

“This isn’t healthy, though. What we’re doing. We’re not together, not chosen mates or even boyfriend and girlfriend. We rarely speak when I’m gone, and yet somehow on the rare occasion I visit, I end up in your bed again almost every night. And it can’t continue. Not anymore.”

My jaw ticks as my teeth grind together, and I stare at her, pushing down the rising anxiety that has been a near-constant companion for the last seven years. It’s usually buried deep under the surface, but it always lurks and waits for moments like this, moments when my insecurities all come rushing back, when my routine and my stability are threatened.

The silence stretches between us, my heart climbing into my throat. I swallow against it repeatedly, working to push it back into its proper place and hide that I’m struggling to breathe. There has to be something—anything—I can do to rectify this situation.

I can’t go through this. Not again.

Rachel’s face softens, and her fingers twitch against her forearm, like she’s thinking of reaching for me, but she stays still and grips her arm instead. “I’m sorry, Nolan. I am. But—”

“Wait,” I say, holding up a finger, running my hand over my short hair, and pinching my lips together. “Just… wait. Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

I race up the stairs and back into my bedroom, rummaging through the top drawer of my dresser and snatching up the small black box, the box with the yellow, square cut, solitaire diamond ring inside it. The ring I’ve had for longer than I should admit, but for whatever reason, never worked up the courage to give to her. I sprint down the stairs and stand right in front of her, heart racing and shoulders heaving as I hold the box out to her, lid open so she can see the ring.

“I know rings aren’t really a thing for shifters since we can’t wear them. But I want you to be my chosen mate, Rachel,” I say, watching her for her reaction.

She just stares at it, her face blank. Nothing passes over her features or flickers in her eyes, and she makes no move to take the ring out of the box. “How?” she asks, her eyes still on the ring.

My brows furrow, and I blink at her in confusion. Not the reaction I expected. “How?”

Her eyes never leave the box in my hand. “How would we make it work? I live in Boston. I have a job there. An amazing job where I am making a name for myself, bringing in high-paying clients, sometimes even celebrities, who want me to design their new homes or remodel their current homes.”

My heart rises into my throat again. This isn’t working. I’m failing. I’m going to be left all alone. Again.

“You could do that here, too,” I say. “You could move back here, to California. There are plenty of families with money here, people who would be willing to pay you to do the same thing on this coast instead of that coast.”

“Or you could move to Boston with me,” she says.

I struggle to keep my eyes from rolling and to keep the growl of frustration out of my voice. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because of Hav—”

“Haven. Exactly.” She shakes her head. “You do realize that’s what this all always boils down to? The reason I drifted away from you and looked for new jobs, the reason we fell apart in the first place? Because of your inability to let anyone else protect her.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s not fair, Rachel. You know that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

“No.” But even as I say the words, even as I utter them with complete conviction and insistence, she and I both know I’m not convincing anyone.

“Then move to Boston with me. Tell Wesley and Haven they need to find someone to replace you as her gamma.”

My jaw ticks, and I swallow, looking down at the floor. Even the suggestion has my wolf on edge, his lips curling into a snarl. He and I both know there is no one else who can do the job like we can. She’s too important to us, and not just as our luna. She’s family to me. The little sister I never had. The thought of leaving her in someone else’s care, under someone else’s protection, is equally nauseating as the rising anxiety I have from knowing Rachel is leaving me for good this time.

“I can’t,” I say, raising my head to meet Rachel’s brown eyes.

She sighs and rubs my shoulder, squeezing it. “I know you can’t. And… I don’t resent you for that. I love Haven. She is an amazing friend and a wonderful luna, and she deserves someone like you to protect her.” She licks her lips and takes a deep breath before she continues. “But you deserve someone who isn’t constantly feeling like you’re always choosing your luna over them. And I deserve to not feel like an afterthought all the time.”

Her honesty hits me right in the gut, and I close my eyes, thinking back over the years we were together and even the times when she was here visiting after we weren’t together. And I realize how right she is. How I never saw what I was doing to her when I would rush off to do my gamma duties and leave her behind. How I never realized how much I hurt her.

Until now. Until it was too late.

But I wouldn’t change any of it. Or take any of it back. And I’m not sure what that says about me or how I should feel about that.

I step back from her, and her hand hangs suspended in mid-air before returning to her side. “I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say, even though it doesn’t cover or fix the years of pain I caused her. But it’s better than nothing.

I suppose.

“I know. I am too. But Nolan… we were together for years… years … and other than when we discussed it when we first got together, you never asked me to be your chosen mate, never offered to mark me, until right now. Why is that?”

I blow out a breath and shake my head as she hits me with more brutal honesty, making me reflect on things I don’t want to reflect on. “I… I don’t know.”

“I don’t think you actually want me as your chosen mate. You’re just trying to hold on to what is comfortable for you.”

“What’s wrong with comfortable?”

“Love shouldn’t just be what’s comfortable. We both deserve more than settling for each other.”

I open my mouth but then snap it shut and rip my eyes away from her, staring out over the open living room to my left, my eyes snagging on a patch of dust on my baby grand piano. My jaw ticks, and my eyes itch as my heart squeezes and my lip threatens to tremble.

She’s right. She’s right about all of it. But somehow this rejection feels worse than when she left me the first time. Maybe because that rejection never felt real, since we still continued to sleep together, even though we were no longer a couple.

I scrub my hand over my face, dragging it down slowly and stroking my jaw as I compose myself, taking deep breaths and counting to ten, clenching the ring box in my fist, using the pain to ground me and to keep the panic from tugging me under. I can do this. I can let her go. This rejection has nothing to do with me as a male and everything to do with her insecurities. It isn’t the same as her choosing an alpha over me. She’s not even choosing anyone over me. If anything, she’s choosing herself, which is fair.

Because she’s right. She deserves someone to worship the ground she walks on. Someone who treats her like a mate, not an afterthought. Someone who treats her like Wes treats Haven and Reid treats Taryn, or how her first mate treated her before he died.

And I don’t know if I can be that mate for her. I don’t know if I can be that mate for anyone.

“Before you leave to take Rachel to the airport, Haven and I need to talk to you about something in my office,” Wesley mindlinks me, interrupting my thoughts and my breathing exercise.

“I’ll be right there,” I reply without hesitation. Then I wince, realizing I did exactly what Rachel said I always do.

“I have to go,” I say.

“Of course,” she says, giving me a halfhearted smile.

I hold the ring box out to her as I walk closer to the door. “You can keep this. I bought it for you, and I want you to have it.” She says nothing as she takes it from me and moves out of the way. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

I leave my house, shutting the door behind me before she can reply or say goodbye, and speed walk across the grounds towards the large log cabin packhouse at the center, right by the crescent moon shaped lake our pack is named for. I pay little attention to my surroundings or the pack members who wave at me or are out enjoying the spring weather. My eyes stay forward the entire way to the packhouse and Wesley’s office.

I enter his office without knocking and then immediately turn around to leave when I realize Wesley and Haven aren’t alone. “Shit, I’m sorry. You said you needed to speak with me, so I assumed you weren’t busy. I’ll wait in the hall until—”

“It’s fine,” Wesley says, and he, Haven, and the female guest seated across the desk from them get to their feet. “That’s actually why I asked you to join us. Nolan, you remember Cassandra?”

My eyes flick over to the green-eyed female dressed in blue, who stands with her hand held out for me to shake, a wide grin on her face showing off her perfectly straight white teeth. I search my memory, trying to place her, but I come up empty. “Um…” I shut the door and step towards her, taking her hand. “I don’t, actually.”

“We met on Selene’s island in Greece?” she says, her head tilting to the side, her brows raised, that bright smile still lighting up her face with its unfettered happiness.

I grimace and shake my head as I drop her hand. “Sorry.”

Her smile doesn’t falter, though. She just shrugs and waves me off with a laugh that reminds me of the tinkling of piano keys. Sweet, light, and happy. The sound bounces around the room and echoes in my ears, and I tense from the pure joy of it, so opposite to the heavy sorrow, guilt, and self-loathing I carry within me.

“It’s fine,” she says. “You were in Greece for not even a full twenty-four hours, and you were rather preoccupied with finding answers about Haven’s past while you were there.”

She continues to smile the entire time she speaks, and I glance at Wes and arch a brow.

“Cassandra is going to be staying at Crescent Lake for a while,” he says in answer to my unspoken question.

“Okay?” I reply, not sure what that has to do with me or why I needed to drop everything to come here to be told that.

“She’ll be staying with you.”

I blink at him, my gaze flicking between Haven and him. “Excuse me?” I ask, crossing my arms and tilting my head to the side.

“All the guest housing is full since the remodels on Silver Ridge keep getting delayed, and the new buildings here for the pack members who decided to transfer packs are also unfinished due to the same delays,” Wesley explains, sitting down in his chair again. “She can’t stay with Sebastian since he’s staying with our parents while a family is using his apartment. You’re the only other ranked member who is single and has a spare room.” I clench my jaw and hold in the groan threatening to leave my mouth. “It’s just until space opens up in the guest housing,” he adds, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Everything building within me from the moment Rachel said this was really the end; everything I held back while talking with her erupts from me in a singular, violent explosion. I throw my arms in the air, and my nostrils flare as a growl rumbles in my chest beneath my words. “I don’t want her to stay with me!”

Haven’s eyes widen, and her hand instinctively covers her growing belly. I almost feel guilty for my knee-jerk reaction, almost backtrack and apologize to Cassandra. I don’t, however. I’m too riled up and frustrated from today’s earlier events and the memories and all too familiar emotions they awakened.

But my deviation from my usual rigidity and stoicism doesn’t faze Wes. He sits there, fingers tapping the top of the desk as he watches me, studies me. Sebastian is usually the intuitive one of the two brothers, but Wesley knows me too well since he was the one constant in my life in the months and years following Kimberly’s rejection. He knows my reaction has almost nothing to do with Cassandra staying with me and everything to do with something completely unrelated, something he’ll confront me about later on when we’re alone.

“Why not?” he asks.

I can’t hold back my groan this time. My volatile emotions influence my reactions, surging through me and out of me like a shaken can of soda someone tried to open unawares. “I have a routine. She’ll just be a nuisance. She’ll be in my way.”

Cassandra clears her throat and raises her hand, and I glare at her. “‘She’ is literally right here. Listening to your every word.”

Even with my outburst and my incredibly rude reaction, she still wears the same fucking happy-go-lucky smile on her face, and it’s not even fake. It’s genuine. That pisses me off even more. How can anyone be that happy?

My teeth grind together, and my hands curl into fists at my side as I study her. She stands with her hands clasped behind her back, her green eyes flitting about the room, her curled, golden brown hair swaying with the subtle rocking of her body. The long, dark blue skirt of her dress floats around her calves, mimicking the movement of her hair. And that smile. That Goddess damned smile. I just know that smile is going to drive me up the wall. It will be my undoing. I cross my fingers that she’ll only have to stay in my house for a few days, so her smiles don’t bleed into the corners of my home and uproot my routine.

“The spare room in my house isn’t ready for someone to stay in,” I say to Wesley through my teeth, still staring at the ray of sunshine who will be my house guest for the foreseeable future.

“I’ve already sent the hospitality team to work on it,” Haven says, her voice and eyes soft.

I give her a curt nod and turn on my heel, ripping my eyes away from Cassandra and her incessant happiness that threatens to poison my perpetually pitch-black soul. “I have to go to the airport.”

It’s a lie, but none of them need to know that. All I know is I need to get out of there before I explode again.

Before I do or say something worse than I already have.