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

17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

CASSANDRA

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Nolan asks, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, his arms tense. He watches me from the doorway of the guest room as I slip my feet into my sandals, seated on the edge of the bed.

“Yes,” I say, standing and smoothing out my skirt. “I need to practice. You can’t keep me ensconced in your house forever because I got tired one time.”

He adjusts his posture so he fills the entirety of the doorframe. His arms cross, stretching the fabric of his white T-shirt on his biceps and across his broad chest. His features sharpen, and he stares down at me as I approach him, his eyes dark.

“I could,” he says with a low growl. I arch a brow at him. “I wouldn’t,” he adds, a small smile teasing his stern face, “but I could.”

“I will be fine.” His growl deepens, and his eyes narrow on me, his body tensing further with his annoyance and displeasure. I caress his forearm and then glide my hand to his chest, letting it linger right above his heart. “Nolan.”

At the sound of his name on my lips, the soft growl grows to a small roar, and he ensnares me in his arms, tugging me to his chest, using the same gentle possessiveness he’s shown me since our first kiss. His arms are powerful and fierce around my body. His hold on me is tender and caring, while still protective and authoritative. He caresses my cheek with the back of his hand, then grips my chin between his thumb and his fingers, kissing me with a furious passion, making my heart gallop in my chest and causing waves of desire to crash against the edges of my soul.

His fingers dig into my ass, then his massive hands roam my body as we continue our kiss. Tender, capable, loving hands that belong to the male who is lowering his guard and opening himself up to me, who is so much more than the impassive mannequin he pretends to be for the rest of the world. Hands that bring me to unexplored heights of pleasure, that leave exquisite marks on me with their rough, possessive touch.

My thighs clench at the memory of all he’s done to me with those hands. And his mouth. And his…

Nope. I can’t go down that tempting path right now. He has a project deadline to meet—something to do with computer programming that I do not at all understand even after he explained it to me three times—and I am supposed to meet Haven to practice absorbing and manipulating her aura. As much as I’d like to go another round with him, as much as I’d love to get lost in his touch and his dominance, it will have to wait until later, when we both are done with our work for the day.

I tear my lips from his and back away a step so I’m no longer pressed into his body, no longer rocking my hips against his hardening dick, and I catch my breath from the intensity of our kiss. His eyes meet mine, hooded and swirling with desire. His jaw ticks, and his fingers dig harder into my skin, his body tense—all sharp, harsh lines and bulging muscles as he holds back from pouncing on me.

I squeeze around him and head out into the hallway, picking up my purse and my phone and draping it over my shoulder. I reach for the doorknob, but his hand covers it first, his towering body looming over me and trapping me. Swallowing, I tremble with anticipation as he tucks my hair behind my ear, his unyielding hazel gaze scanning my face and lingering on my parted mouth.

“Daisy…” His thumb pads over my bottom lip and traces underneath it. “Promise me you won’t work yourself too hard.”

I nod, my tongue darting out to wet my lips, the tip of it teasing his thumb. He groans, and his grip on me tightens, a warning flashing in his eyes, as if he’s daring me to do it again. “I promise.”

He leans closer to me, hand falling from the doorknob and his head angling over mine, our lips inches apart, his breath fanning my face. My eyes close, and my knees weaken, my face tilting to meet his, but before I can kiss him, he opens the door and shoves me out, swatting my ass with a playful growl.

“Go,” he says, his voice deep and commanding, twisting my insides and capturing the attention of my lycan. “We will pick up where we left off later.”

He slams the door shut before I can say anything in response, and I scurry across the lawn, a broad, uncontainable smile stretching across my face as I walk to the packhouse. My heart is weightless, my soul content, and my happiness the most genuine it’s been in a while. A light breeze rustles my hair and the skirt on my dress, mimicking the lightness of my spirit. The black butterflies embroidered on the ivory fabric flutter and dance with the swirling of the material, brushing against my legs and shimmering in the early afternoon sun.

I’m almost to the packhouse when my phone pings with a text from Haven, asking me to meet her at their house instead of in Wesley’s office. I change course, winding around the lake and towards the paved pathway that meanders through the trees towards their private residence, secluded within the confines of the dense redwood forest. Their sprawling house comes into view, and Haven waves to me from the front porch of their luxury mountain home. Her mane of red curls is in a single, long braid, and she wears a loose gray Stanford T-shirt that almost hides her growing bump, a panting, smiling Cav at her side.

He bounds up to me, licking my face as I bend down to pet his head and scratch his ears. “Hey there, friend!” I say, laughing through his wolfy kisses.

He throws one last tongue swipe along my cheek, then prances back over to Haven, where he sits on his haunches next to her, his chest puffed out proudly, the cheesy lilac tutu he wore the other day once again around his middle.

“How are you?” Haven asks as I reach the porch.

“Fine,” I say, following her into the house. Cav stays behind, and I give him a little wave as I shut the door.

Haven glances at me, her brow raised, her eyes flicking over my outfit. “I’m surprised he didn’t make you wear his shirt.”

My cheeks heat, and I pinch my lips together, clearing my throat. “He likes my dresses,” I mutter.

Her deep blue eyes light up with understanding and laughter, and she nods. “Ah.”

I’m silent as I follow her down the brightly lit hall to a room with an arched opening. Inside the room, there is a huge mirror all along the far side, large windows lining the left-hand wall that make the room seem as if it’s outside in the forest, and a small office area on the right-hand side, where Wesley sits, working on a laptop.

“This is beautiful,” I say, my voice breathless as I take everything in—the gorgeous natural lighting, the spotless mirrors, the exquisite professional-grade dance flooring, and the mounted ballet barres on the interior wall. All of it is stunning and designed with such care and precision.

Haven trails her fingers along the wooden barre as she walks towards Wesley’s desk. “Wesley outdid himself with this one. But my favorite will always be the first one he made me.”

Haven reaches the office section of the dance studio and grabs one of the lightweight wooden chairs with thin ivory cushions on the opposite side of the desk, turning to take it to the center of the room. But before she makes it two steps, Wesley is around his desk and snatching the chair from her, grabbing the other along with it, and marching them both to the open space of the studio.

“I could have done that,” Haven says, rubbing her belly as she follows him.

Wesley grunts his response and drops a kiss to the top of her head, his hand covering hers on her belly. Then he returns to his desk, plopping down in the leather office chair without another word.

“Males,” Haven mouths to me, her eyes rolling as she too sits down. I chuckle and sit in the chair across from her, setting my purse down on the floor next to me. “So, how are we going to do this?”

“I have a couple of questions first, if you don’t mind?” Haven shrugs. “They may be a little… personal,” I continue, folding my hands in my lap.

“That’s fine.”

I nod. “Have you ever spoken to Selene about your aura?”

Haven tenses, and her lips turn into a slight, angry frown. “No. I’ve only spoken to her twice. That night in Greece, and the night Wesley marked me and she gave me the mindlink ability.” She swallows and fiddles with the hem of her shirt. “Why? Is there something wrong? Or something bad?”

Wesley’s eyes lift from his work, and he pauses, waiting for my response. “No. I was just curious if she’d pulled you into her realm at all to tell you about it after she gave it to you. Or if you’d visited her yourself.”

“Don’t we have to like…” She blushes, and her eyes dart around the room. “I mean. I know she brought me there after Wesley marked me, but that was kind of like a ritual, too, right?”

I bite back my laugh. “You only had to do the ritual the first time because you’d never connected with her before, and even Selene has limits of how she can connect with mortals. But if she wanted to—or if you wanted to—you could visit her in her realm at any time.”

She bites her lip, the anger and resentment returning to her features. “Her and I… we’re not really on speaking terms. She may be my mother, but she’s not my mom.”

I nod and clasp my hands together tighter, maintaining eye contact with her. “I understand. Blood relation doesn’t automatically make someone your family.”

A small smile returns to her face, and she glances at Wesley, who is once again focused on his work. “That is an incredibly true statement.” Her attention returns to me after she gazes lovingly at him for a second, determination in her eyes. “What do you know about it?” she asks. “My aura?”

“It’s an identifier. Like an alpha aura or any other ranked wolf aura. It signals to others that you’re someone important. The command—well, that I’m guessing was given to you as a means to protect yourself. Even with King Malachi helping hide your identity, and even with the special blood contract knife the oracles and the thirteen crones created to bind all your pack members—new and old—to secrecy, there is still a chance of someone figuring out who you are and trying to use that against you or for their own gain. Being able to command werewolves and lycans of any rank no matter what pack they’re in…”

Her eyes widen and both her hands cover her belly, her motherly instincts already taking over all her conscious and subconscious reactions. “She thinks something will happen to me? Or to our family? Something I’d need to protect us from?”

I reach for her and cover her hands on her belly with my own, leaning forward in my seat. “No,” I say, squeezing her hand. “But you are her only living daughter. With everything that happened to Asteria and everything that happened to you, can you blame her for wanting you to have a way to protect yourself?”

“I told her I didn’t want magic or powers,” Haven says, her eyes watering.

“She’s a goddess. She does what she wants.”

Haven scoffs and I pull away from her. I sense she has more she wants to say, further strong opinions on the subject, but she clenches her jaw and clamps her mouth shut, staring out at the forest through the windows behind me. Her body tenses, and she squeezes her eyes closed, her neck straining as she tilts her head side to side like she’s stretching out a tweaked nerve.

“Let it out,” I say, my voice soft and coaxing. “I need to practice. That’s why I am here.”

She exhales, and with her breath comes a pulse of her aura. The friendly, sparkling, dancing power reflects off the flawless mirrors, and the lights in the room flicker for a moment before I reach out with my ability and draw the aura into me. I focus my power, thinking of it as a filter for her aura to pass through instead of a sponge to absorb as much of it as possible. I let it trickle from her and into me, little by little, opening myself to it slowly to find the perfect balance of manipulation and absorption. The aura lingers around Haven but drifts no further than where it hovers above her skin, and the sparkling stardust diminishes until the only evidence of her power is the slight distortion of air around her body. And even that would only be clear to someone with my ability.

I smile at her as the last of it dances into me, feeling energized and excited instead of exhausted and emptied. Haven’s eyes are wide, and she stares at mine, her jaw dropping open.

“Is that what my aura looks like to you?” she asks, brow furrowing. “That dancing, sparkling, silvery light in your eyes?”

I nod at her. “It’s beautiful and one of a kind.”

“Does it hurt you?”

“It doesn’t. I just absorbed too much of it too quickly the other day, and I wasn’t prepared for the full depth of it. But now that I know what not to do, there won’t be a repeat of that.” I sit straighter in my chair and shake my hands out, my fingers stiff from how I gripped the edge of my seat while working. “Can we try again?”

We practice for most of the day, pausing to eat a late lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup that Wesley whipped up for us and then immediately returning to our training.

But our second session is cut short by heavy footsteps thundering up the porch steps, the front door slamming open, and loud, running feet racing down the hall. Nolan bursts into the room, panting, his eyes frantically scanning the space. As soon as they land on me, relief floods through him, relaxing his muscles and sagging his shoulders as he crosses over to me. “Oh, thank the Goddess. I couldn’t find you anywhere and I was starting to worry.”

“Haven’s fine. She’s with me,” Wesley says as if on autopilot, not looking up from his laptop.

I smile at Nolan and cover the rest of the distance to him, falling into his arms and cuddling into his chest as he embraces me. His muscular arms keep me close, his hand cupping the back of my head that rests above his pounding heart. He sways subtly from side to side as he holds me, and my eyes close as I soak in his warmth and revel in his need to be close to me.

Haven laughs. “None of that was directed towards me, Wesley,” she says.

I peek behind myself at him, and he finally looks up from his laptop, his eyes landing on Nolan’s arms encircling me and taking in the relief I’m sure is shown on Nolan’s face. Wesley’s lips tilt into a cheeky smile, one that rivals his brother’s, and he joins in with Haven’s laughter.

Nolan glares at him, but only for a moment, before returning all his focus to me. “You told me you’d be at the packhouse. I didn’t know where you were.”

“You could have mindlinked Wesley or Haven,” I say, looking up at him with my chin on his chest.

A laugh covered by a cough sounds from the desk, and again, Nolan ignores his alpha. “I…” He presses his lips together and sighs. “I was too worried about you to think about doing that,” he admits, his voice low. “Are you all right?” he asks, changing the subject and cupping my cheek with one hand while still keeping me snuggled to his body with his other arm. I nod. “You didn’t wear yourself out too much?”

“She’s fine,” Haven says, standing and moving to Wesley’s desk, perching on the arm of his chair. He hugs her waist, and his face still holds that teasing grin as he watches Nolan and me interact.

“Stop being a dickhead,” Nolan grunts, grabbing my hand and walking us over to the office area in the dance studio. He leans against the wall and tugs me in front of him, my back to his chest, his arms hugging my shoulders.

Wesley chuckles and shakes his head. “I thought I said I didn’t want to see you until you were in a better mood?”

“I am in a better mood,” Nolan says, his lips twitching against my neck as he inhales my scent and then kisses my fluttering pulse.

I swallow back the sigh of pleasure threatening to escape my mouth, and his arms tighten around me as he leans his head on the wall again. His body relaxes behind mine, and I can sense his contentment and the satisfaction from his wolf as I snuggle in closer to him.

“Good,” Wesley says, shutting his laptop. “Because we have to meet with the other alphas at the mating ball’s venue tomorrow to go over the details for the event and iron out any wrinkles. I can’t have you popping off on one of them. So make sure you’re still in a good mood.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at Nolan. My face flushes, and Haven swats at Wesley’s chest with the back of her hand. Nolan’s deep, resonant laugh vibrates through my body as he says, “Yes, Alpha.”