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

13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

CASSANDRA

“Nolan!” I dart forward, but Reid grabs me by the upper arms, yanking me back and away from their tussle.

I glare at him and growl, and his blue eyes widen. He releases me, lifting his hands near his shoulders. I turn my focus back to the males on the ground, and even though I want to intervene, I stay back. I don’t want Nolan to get hurt, but I know better than to get between two fighting shifters, especially when one of them is visibly agitated and almost in a rage.

The two males grapple on the ground, neither of them using any real training or strategy in their fight with each other. They roll around, throwing hits, elbows, knees, or kicks in where and when they can. Neither has the upper hand, and neither gives an inch to the other. It’s a continuous tussle, almost reminiscent of two untrained pups going at it, except this fight is fueled by Nolan’s irritation towards Sebastian as opposed to an argument over a toy or who won a race.

They snarl and grunt and growl as they continue fighting. No one intervenes or says anything, all of us looking on in silence, all of us tense as we sense Nolan’s sudden aggression towards Sebastian.

But as they twist and Nolan’s face becomes visible to us, we all see his fangs are out, his pupils are as wide as his irises, and his claws are extended from his skin, his wolf right at the surface and pushing to be released.

“STOP!” Alpha Wesley’s command ripples through the crowd, pinpointed on Nolan but felt by all. Heads lower, and necks are bared as he storms forward. Haven stops near Cav and rests her hand on his head. “Get off of Sebastian, Nolan!”

The result of Wesley’s order is immediate. Nolan shoves Sebastian away and jumps to his feet, crossing the distance to where I stand in long, hurried strides. His darkened eyes scan my entire body, his jaw clenched and ticking as his canines recede into his gums. His nostrils flare, and his heavy stare lingers on my bare stomach, every muscle tensing further as he scans the expanse of my exposed skin.

“Her shirt,” he says, his hand held out to the side, his eyes still on me. Maddie inches forward and holds it out, but his lip curls and he growls. “Not that one!” he says between his gritted teeth, disgust and derision tinting his voice. “That one is Sebastian’s.”

Maddie swallows and switches the shirts, then darts away. Nolan steps closer to me until he shields my body from almost everyone around us, lifting the shirt over my head.

“You should be home resting,” he says, his voice low and gentle, a stark contrast to the severe, angry lines etched into his face, the tone he used with Maddie, and the tension tightening the muscles everywhere on his body.

I gawk at him, my arms sliding into the sleeves like it’s second nature for me to wear his shirt. The soft, cozy fabric wraps around my body, bringing his scent with it, but all it does is provide more fuel for my indignation with him.

“I am fine!” I insist. But even as my protestations leave my lips, my body sways where I stand.

“You keep telling yourself that, Daisy,” Nolan says, his hands settling on my hips and tugging me closer.

I bristle at his use of the nickname he dubbed me with yesterday, but before I can say anything to him about it, Wesley rushes towards us, yelling at Nolan. “You’re being a right dickhead, you know that?”

Nolan grunts in reply, his grip on me tightening. There is an inch of space between us, but it feels like a gaping cavern that I simultaneously want to close until it’s nonexistent and widen until I never see him again.

Wesley looks over his shoulder at Sebastian, then directs his attention to us, eyes shifting between Nolan and me. “Get out of here,” he says, sighing and shaking his head. “I don’t want to hear from you or see you until you’re in a better mood.”

Nolan doesn’t respond to Wesley or even acknowledge his alpha. He instead grabs my hand and walks in the direction of his house. “Let’s go.”

He takes me by surprise, dragging me several feet away from the sparring ring before I dig my heels into the ground and yank my hand from his grasp. “Excuse me?”

He whirls around, brows still furrowed, that ever-present scowl on his face. “We’re going home.”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

I shake my head and cross my arms. “You’re not in charge here.”

He inhales, his entire body expanding from that one breath, his lips pinching together as he storms back to my side. “I swear to the Goddess, Cassandra, I will not hesitate to throw you over my shoulder and carry you home.”

He hovers above me, his nose almost touching mine, and my knees shake, my arms loosening a hair. But I stand my ground. I’m not giving in to his demands. I’m done with the hot and cold and the mixed signals.

“Which is it? Cassandra or Daisy?”

He flinches back and blinks at me. “What?”

“Is it Cassandra or Daisy? You can’t seem to make up your mind. And I’m getting whiplash, if I’m being honest.”

His mouth snaps shut, and he stares down at me, breathing heavily, his eyes scanning my face. We stand like that for a long while, at the edge of the training field, neither of us caring what his friends are doing or if they’re watching or what they think. He rubs his hand over his hair and down the back of his neck, then he growls and ducks down, lifting me up and over his shoulder exactly like he threatened to do.

“Nolan!” I shriek as he heads towards his house. “Put me down!”

“I will. When we get home.”

I groan and slam my fist into his shoulder, but he chuckles—fucking chuckles—and keeps walking. My body bounces with each of his purposeful strides towards his house, and I sigh, propping my chin on my hand. His hand on my hip flexes as I relax and give in, and his pace speeds up, another growl rumbling in his chest.

My thighs clench as it vibrates against me, my body submitting to him further from just that brief, rough sound.

I can’t help it. I can’t ignore it. There is something about him that draws me in, no matter how much I push him away and ignore my desires.

And that only infuriates me more.

Nolan shoves his door open and slams it shut behind him, storming into his house. He pauses in the entry, though, his head swiveling from the stairs to the hallway to the living room, before he pivots and stomps to the couch, dropping me onto the cushions.

He bends over me, his hands resting on the cushion on either side of me. A storm rages in his eyes, a mix of annoyance and concern that has me ready to tear my hair out while screaming and crying.

“What were you thinking?” he asks, his hands curling into fists beside my legs.

“What?”

“What were you thinking? Sparring with Maddie? And Seb?”

“I was working out,” I say, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

“Against two lycans? After you completely wore yourself out yesterday?”

I groan and throw my head back against the cushions, squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m fine!” I say for the umpteenth time. “I’m not some untested, newly shifted pup. Fighting is part of our training on the island. And I need to build up my strength, anyway. I’ve been slacking on working out since I got here.”

He rises and sets his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “Maybe, but your body still needs to recuperate from yesterday. You should be taking it easy, not facing off against lycans! Another werewolf, maybe, but lycans?”

He paces back and forth in front of me, rubbing the back of his neck, his chest and shoulders still heaving. I lean forward and remove my shoes, setting them aside and sitting upright again. “I understand where you’re coming from and what you’re saying,” I say, undoing my braids, my fingers combing through the strands and shaking them out. “But it’s fine. I’m a lycan too.”

He pauses his pacing and raises a brow at me. “Your dad is an alpha?”

I inhale through my nose and rub my temples. “My father was an alpha, yes.” He stares at me, his eyes examining me in that heavy, heated, exposing way they always do.

“Does Wesley know?”

“Of course he knows.”

He nods. Then he shakes his head, furrowing his brows. “Even so, you shouldn’t have taken them on so soon after draining yourself.”

“Like I said, I need to train and build up my strength.”

“Yes. After you’ve healed. After you’re feeling better.”

“Oh, my fucking Goddess! I told you I am fine!” His brow lifts as I yawn at the end of my sentence, and I groan. “Whatever. Don’t worry. It won’t happen again!”

I throw his words from yesterday in his face and slump against the cushions once more, covering my eyes with my hands. My body trembles with suppressed aggravation and dejection, and I breathe through the distress racing through my veins.

He stands there, arms crossed, watching me as I hide myself from him. Through my fingers, I see his hands twitch and then grip his biceps, his jaw clenching for a second before he sighs and turns towards the entryway. “Good. I’ll let you rest, then.”

My arms fly up in frustration, my fingers curling like I’m squeezing his big dumb head in their grip before I drop them to my side.

“Why do you care so much?” I ask, jumping from the couch.

I don’t understand. I need answers. The back and forth, the mixed signals, the hot and cold—I can’t deal with it anymore. I need to know if this is all in my head. He’s too guarded and cryptic, and if this is how I get him to open up to me—by pushing him into it—then so be it.

Three steps. That’s all he takes towards the entry before he turns back around. His hands curl into fists at his sides, and his muscles bulge, his eyes boring into me.

“What?” he asks.

“Why do you care so much?” I repeat.

He doesn’t answer, but he continues to stare. Seconds pass, and my body heats with awareness under the smoldering intensity in his eyes and on his face, an intensity meant for me and only me. The heat burns through me, setting my blood alight with a fire of yearning. The flames lick and climb, crawling beneath my skin and urging me to give in.

Give in. Give in. Give in. The words pulse in time with my heart. The fire in my blood threatens to devour me if I don’t act on the desires awakened by this male I can’t seem to resist no matter how hard I try.

But I’m frozen in place, pinned to the floor by his eyes. Neither of us says a word, but I wet my lips as his throat bobs. His arm muscles ripple as he grips his fists tighter before rushing towards me, the intensity in his eyes deepening with every step.

And then I’m in his arms, his lips smashing down onto mine. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t wait for me to catch my breath or register his decision. His arm wraps around my waist, his fingers weave into my hair, and his mouth meets mine in a passionate kiss that fans the licking, leaping flames in my veins into a blazing inferno of desire.

The kiss is everything. It’s the moment right before the sun disappears for the night and the sky fills with stars. It’s the quiet in the early hours of the morning when the clouds are painted pink and the air is still. It’s the aftermath of a key change, when the accidentals settle and the music crests and crashes into the ending like the waves of the sea. It’s music, light, and life.

His arms hold me in an ironclad grip, and yet the way he embraces me is still tender, almost restrained. He envelops me in gentleness, cradling me to him like I’m a fragile flower, a delicate treasure. Like I need to be protected and cherished, but also as if he’s afraid I’ll bolt or disappear and leave him all alone forever.

Our lips twist and tangle, and I sigh into his mouth, relaxing further into his embrace, his arms tightening as I melt into him more and more, attempting to merge our bodies. I curl my fingers into his black shirt, as if that will anchor me, keep me from slipping further into the spiraling whirlpool we’re both already drowning in.

It doesn’t.

He nips at my lower lip, and I whimper, shuddering in his arms from the intensity of him and all that he is to me, all that I tried to prevent him from being but failed.

“Nolan…” My voice is barely a whisper as I murmur his name between kisses, tugging him closer to me by his shirt.

But his lips rip away from mine, and he stumbles back a step, unfolding me from his embrace while still keeping his hands on me, one on my hip and one on my neck, his thumb absently stroking my throat. Hazel eyes dart across my face; broad shoulders heave with every breath he takes, indecision and panic filling him with every second that passes.

“I’m sorry.” The hands I long for fly to the top of his head and scrub over his buzzed hair, his jaw ticking and clenching as he paces side to side. “I didn’t mean to… Fuck!” he grits out between his teeth, his hand almost clawing down his face to his jaw, like he’s trying to erase the last few moments between us, moments I never want either of us to forget.

He shakes his head and spins away, his feet dragging my heart across the entryway with each hurried, frantic, staggering step, steps that put way too much distance between our bodies. The front door draws nearer, his hand hovering over the knob.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I act without thinking—because he’s apparently also dense as fuck—closing that much too large distance in two long strides. I cup his face in my hands and yank him towards me, slamming my lips against his once more.