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

4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

NOLAN

“I’m taking your truck.”

Wes lifts his eyes from the legal pad next to his laptop as I enter his office in the packhouse. “Excuse me?”

“I’m taking your truck to the city,” I repeat.

He sighs and tosses his pen on top of the lined yellow paper, leaning back in his desk chair and rubbing his forehead. “Why?”

“Because the sound system in your truck is better than the one in mine. And I’m still annoyed with you about this whole Cassandra thing.”

“Did she explain to you why she’s here?” he asks, dropping his hand.

I grunt and cross my arms, leaning against the doorway and avoiding his eyes, staring out the large windows that overlook the pack grounds. It’s the best view in the packhouse, but I can’t appreciate it right now. “She did.”

“Then you understand why it’s important. We can’t have any more issues. King Malachi did us a favor by reaching out to the high oracle to ask if anyone could help us. And she’s the only one they could send, and your house is the only place she can stay right now.”

He crosses his arms, too, and once again, his tone leaves no room for me to argue. He doesn’t alpha command me—he won’t unless he absolutely needs to—but it’s implied, nonetheless.

She’s staying with me, end of discussion.

My entire body tenses as her bright-as-the-sun smile flashes through my mind, and her tinkling piano laugh rings in my ears. I breathe out through my nose and clench my teeth.

“Why is this so upsetting for you?” Wesley asks, brow furrowing.

“She’s so… happy. All the time.”

“It’s been twenty-four hours.”

“Exactly,” I say, fully aware of how ridiculous and childish I must sound right now.

He’s right. It’s barely been a day. I should give her a chance; sit back and see how this plays out. I should let it go and stop pestering him. He has enough on his plate—worrying about his luna, getting ready for their pup to arrive in a few months, and Goddess only knows what else he deals with as our alpha.

Wesley’s lips twitch, and he shakes his head. “There’s something else, though. And I’m guessing it has to do with the request Rachel submitted for an official pack transfer to the Lynn Woods Pack in Massachusetts?”

His chair rocks side to side, and he watches me, waiting to see if I’ll respond.

I don’t.

My silence is answer enough. It’s all the confirmation he needs to know my blow-up yesterday had almost nothing to do with Cassandra and almost everything to do with Rachel leaving.

For good this time.

And now I have to deal with little miss sunshine and daisies while also grappling with my reignited feelings of rejection and inadequacy as I replay every single memory of my years with Rachel, searching for a key moment, a specific choice I made that altered the course of our relationship, making it end with her walking out of my life forever instead of ending in a happily ever after with her remaining at my side.

Joy.

“So Cassandra’s going to be around me all the time?” I ask, moving the subject away from Rachel. “At Haven’s rehearsals, I mean?”

“She is,” Wesley says, following my change of subject with obvious, understandable reluctance. But I don’t care. I’ll talk about it with him later. Maybe. When I’m ready.

If I’m ever ready.

“And anywhere else Haven needs to go for luna duties,” Wesley adds. “Meetings with other packs, the Northern California mating ball in a few weeks…”

I sigh and rub my hand over my short hair. The mating ball. No one in our pack has attended one since I was rejected, and the only reason I’m going is because Haven is going. Otherwise, I’d be staying here with Reid and Sebastian in protest.

I definitely don’t want to talk or even think about that event right now. I won’t touch that issue until I absolutely have to. Instead, I circle the conversation back to Cassandra’s role here at Crescent Lake. “And has anyone thought of the questions people will ask? About who she is or why she’s at Haven’s ballet rehearsals with me?”

“We gave her a tablet and a laptop. Just tell everyone she’s your intern or personal assistant or something,” Wesley says, shrugging and picking his pen back up.

“Fine,” I say, crossing the last few steps to his desk and holding my hand out to him. “But I’m still taking your truck.”

Wes sighs and tosses his pen down again, opening his drawer to grab the keys to his truck. He dangles them in the space between us while giving me a warning glare. “Just be careful with it. The last time I let one of you borrow it, the tailgate ended up dented.”

I laugh, my tense muscles loosening for the first time since I saw Rachel trying to sneak away yesterday morning. “I promise I won’t punch your truck, Alpha,” I say as I give him a wave and leave his office.

“And Nolan?” I pause in the doorway, arching a brow at him. “Try not to be a dickhead.”

After I pull Wesley’s truck around to the front of the packhouse, I wait on the curb, leaning against the cab of the truck. I shoot off a coffee order to Brewed Awakenings to make right before we get into town while I wait for Haven and Cassandra to be ready to leave.

I don’t have to wait long. They show up together. A quick peek at my watch tells me she’s arrived here precisely one hour after I told her we’d be leaving in an hour.

She’s punctual. I’ll give her that much.

As they walk towards me, Cassandra listens intently to something Haven tells her. Neither of them pays any attention to me, which gives me the opportunity to observe Cassandra undetected.

She’s thankfully changed out of her short shorts and her thin, low-cut tank top and into a casual, floral midi-dress. It was a struggle to not check her out as we stood together in my kitchen. The swell of her breasts peeked out at me over the neckline of her shirt, and her long, smooth, ivory legs extended from those way-too-short pajama bottoms, and I had to force my eyes to remain on her face.

Okay. Maybe I checked her out a little when she wasn’t paying attention. Her and her piercing green eyes, her thick, bouncy, curled hair, and those long, pale legs that seemed endless in those orange checked pajama shorts.

Now that I’m thinking about it, I kind of wish she hadn’t changed. Because while lovely, her off-white dress that comes to mid-calf hides most of those long legs, and it is a shame to cover up legs that perfect.

“Are you ready?” Haven asks, interrupting my play-by-play of Cassandra’s activities in my kitchen this morning. My reimagining of how her legs stretched and tightened with every step she took, how her dark tresses swayed with her movements, the tips brushing the top of her ass, and how her pink lips wrapped around the fork as she took the first bite of her pie drowned almost everything out, to where I didn’t realize they reached the vehicle.

“Yup,” I say, jerking upright and away from the door, grabbing the handle to open it for her, avoiding her eyes and Cassandra’s.

But Haven steps towards the back door, opening it herself. “I’m going to sit here,” she says, one hand resting on her baby bump, the other moving to the small of her back as she grimaces. “It’s more comfortable for me in the back. I can stretch my legs and get a better positioning for my back pain.”

She climbs in before I can respond or move to help her, and Cassandra gets into the passenger seat as I stand there, still holding the door open. Without thinking, I reach for her as she climbs into the truck. Her hand is delicate and warm in mine, her skin soft. A gentle breeze sends her hair dancing across my chest and face, the hint of daisies flirting with my nose.

She sits in the seat, and her unique green eyes meet mine. Up close, I can see how they change from a darker green at the edges to a lighter green, to a ring of gold right around the pupil. Her hand lingers in mine, and she gives it a small squeeze before pulling it away and resting it on her lap. “Thanks,” she murmurs, licking her lips before she smiles.

Fuck me. That gesture does nothing to help the conflicting emotions I have about her. It just sends my mind right back down the path it ventured before she and Haven got in the truck. A path I should not be venturing down. Not now. Not with her. No good will come of it. No good ever has.

I push off the door and slam it shut, storming around the hood to the driver’s side. The light scent of daisies follows me, reminding me of the happy yellow and white flowers on the top of my piano, the ones that perfectly brighten up the room exactly as she said they would.

But I’ll never admit that to her. Just like I’ll never admit how beautiful I find her. She may be beautiful, but she’s still annoying. And I have to live with her beautiful, annoying, overly happy self for the foreseeable future. All while pretending I don’t find her attractive. Or annoying. Or an interruption to my predictable routine.

Easy. Totally doable. Just ignore the smile and the optimism and the attraction and I’ll be fine.

Just fine.

We’re all quiet for most of the drive, listening to the radio as we make our way down the mountain. Cassandra watches the trees as they pass, observing everything and taking it all in, and Haven relaxes as best she can, her eyes closed. But when we’re a little over halfway to the city, she lets out a sharp hiss of air between her teeth, clenching her jaw and her fists, and I’m immediately on alert, all thoughts of my annoying new roommate forgotten.

“Luna? Are you all right?” I ask, prepared to pull over or turn the truck around to head home.

“Fine. There’s just a giant alpha baby growing inside my rather small body.”

My grip on the wheel tightens, and Cassandra sits up straighter, observing our interaction closely. “Haven.”

“I’m really fine. This baby is just using my ribs as a sparring partner, which, quite honestly, hurts. A lot.”

“If you need me to turn around, I can. Peter won’t be upset if—”

“I said I’m fine,” she spits out between her teeth, her pupils dilating. A little ripple of starlight pulses out of her and around Cassandra and me, tangible and glittering, bouncing off the mirrors and any other reflective surface and brushing over my skin, teasing my wolf and me with its familiarity. “Fuck,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Cassandra tracks the movements of Haven’s mysterious aura around the interior, reaching out with her hand to trail her fingers through the tail of stardust it leaves behind. She rubs the residue between her fingers, scrutinizing it. “When are you due?” she asks.

“June,” Haven answers.

“Do you know if you’re having a male or a female?”

Haven shakes her head. “No. We’re keeping it a surprise. Wesley claims he does not care either way.”

“He really doesn’t,” I say, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Trust me.”

“I know,” she says, a soft smile on her lips as she strokes her petite bump and stares out the back window.

I flick my eyes to Cassandra, who is still examining her fingertips, a frown on her face, deep in thought. “What can you tell me about your aura?” she asks Haven.

Haven shrugs one shoulder. “Not much. I don’t feel it, see it, or really understand it. But I can tell when I use it.”

I meet Haven’s eyes in the rearview mirror again, and before I can think about it, an explanation leaves my mouth. “It’s like starlight. Shimmery, soft, and sweet, yet playful. There’s a warmth to it that’s unlike anything else. And it’s not just a physical warmth, but a spiritual warmth too. It dances with and teases our wolves and reminds us who you are, putting us at ease.”

Haven’s brow arches upwards. “That was unexpectedly poetic.”

I smile at her. “I have my moments.”

“And when did you first discover the aura?” Cassandra asks, turning in her seat to talk to Haven.

“After the ceremony when we all took over the pack. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I’ve been able to control it and keep it hidden. It’s only when I get too emotional that I can’t. But the more this little lycan grows, the harder it is to hide the aura at all. ”

“Which is why King Malachi asked for an oracle to help.”

I smirk to myself, keeping my attention on the road as we get closer to the busier streets of the city. “I thought you weren’t an oracle yet?”

Cassandra ignores my snide remark and continues playing twenty questions with Haven. “Has Selene given you any other powers?”

“I can mindlink the pack,” Haven says. “And… I can command other wolves and lycans, no matter what pack they are in.”

“Is your command powerful?”

I nod. “Very.”

“Wesley says it’s even stronger than King Malachi’s,” Haven adds.

I grimace. “Do I even want to ask why he knows how powerful your Haven command is?”

She laughs, and Cassandra joins her. That light and sweet sound bounces around the truck’s interior, mimicking the movements of Haven’s aura and lifting a bit of the weight from within my chest. So much so that I can’t help but join in with their laughter.

“‘Haven command?’” Cassandra asks, a brow raised in interest.

“Reid came up with it,” Haven says, still chuckling. “He said ‘Selene’s daughter’s command’ was too long, and ‘alpha command’ didn’t apply because I’m not an alpha. And since we don’t know of anyone else with this ability, he decided it needed a name as unique as my own. So it’s the ‘Haven command.’”

Cassandra nods. “Sound logic.”

“Can you help her hide it? The aura?” I ask.

“Yes. As long as I’m in the same room as her or I can see her, then I can suppress it, absorb it, or manipulate it so it’s unnoticeable.”

“Which is why she has to come to rehearsals with us from now until I go on leave,” Haven says.

“Speaking of”—Cassandra tucks her hair behind her ears—“who do the other dancers think Nolan is? They all know he’s not your husband since you’re married to Alpha Wesley. How do you explain Nolan’s near-constant presence?”

“They’re told he’s the head of the ballet company’s marketing department,” Haven tells her.

“And is he?”

I huff out a short laugh. “He is not.”

Cassandra’s lips twitch, and she glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “What does he do then?”

“Computer programming,” I state.

“And what will the company think I am?” she asks.

“My new PA.”

She blinks at me. “PA? Your personal assistant?”

“Yes,” I say, nodding as I put the vehicle in park.

“Who decided that?” Haven asks.

I throw my arm over the back of the seat so I can look at her while I answer her question. “Wesley and me.” I wink at her, then redirect my focus to Cassandra. “And your first job as my PA is to go inside Brewed Awakenings and pick up mine and Luna Haven’s mobile orders.” I jerk my chin at the infamous local coffee shop our pack owns, and Cassandra’s head whips towards it and then back to me.

“What about my coffee?” she asks.

I shrug with as much nonchalance as I can muster. “I didn’t order you any. I don’t know what you like,” I reply, even as a tiny pang of guilt flares within me, and my wolf gives me a short growl of irritation.

I could have easily asked her before I ordered, but I didn’t because I was still too irritated by her questions about the ring and how she was right about the stupid daisies catching the light just so on top of the piano.

She meant nothing by the question. I realize that now. It was genuine curiosity. Even if she had seen something with her abilities, she wouldn’t have asked me to taunt me. That’s not who she is. She was only attempting to make conversation, to learn about me and establish a rapport since we’ll be living and working together for a while.

But the sting of Rachel’s rejection is still too fresh.

A stare down ensues between us, neither of us blinking or backing down, neither of us relenting or giving in. Haven clears her throat, but Cassandra and I still don’t break eye contact.

“I’ll go in with you,” Haven says, and I finally blink and break away from Cassandra’s stare, looking back at Haven where she’s unbuckling her seatbelt and scooting towards the door.

“It’s fine,” Cassandra says, rushing to get her seatbelt off and exit the vehicle as well. “I can get them. I need to practice my PA skills, after all.”

Her sharp words hit their mark, but she says them with that same smile she always wears, the one that makes me grind my teeth.

Somehow, that makes me feel even worse. Guiltier.

“Yes, but you’ve never been in Brewed Awakenings before. You won’t know where to go, and they won’t know to give you our drinks,” Haven replies, hopping out and standing next to Cassandra on the sidewalk.

Cassandra’s smile grows as she beams at Haven in thanks, then she spins away, her dress twirling and her hair bouncing with each step. Haven shuts her door, but I roll down the window just as quickly. “Haven!” I exclaim, and she glances at me, brow raised. “You can’t go in there with her.”

“I want to, though.”

“But if you get out of the truck and go inside, then I have to get out of the truck and go inside. I have to stay with you. That’s my job,” I remind her.

Haven stares at me, her lips curling into a smile and her blue eyes dancing with mischief. “Then I guess you’ll have to get out of the truck, Gamma.”

My jaw goes slack at her words, and she takes advantage of that, spinning and bouncing away, her tiny baby bump entering the cafe before she does. I sit in the driver’s seat, white-knuckling the steering wheel, a muscle twitching in my jaw as I try to resist the urge to follow her and keep her as safe as possible.

But it’s pointless. I’m hopeless. It’s just like Rachel said—I can’t trust anyone else to do my job for me.

“Fuck!”

I close Haven’s window, shut off the engine, and jump out of the truck, slamming my door behind me before sprinting after them and into Brewed Awakenings.