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

28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

CASSANDRA

By the time we reach the training fields, the second day of the festival is already in full swing. It’s another beautiful spring day with the sun shining and the light scent of blossoming flowers mixing with the pine from the forest and the water from the lake. Fire pits of various sizes dot the lakeshore and the grounds to prepare for the event tonight to close out the festival, but most pack members are playing games or lining up for the food trucks and stands.

Yesterday after finishing our cornhole match, we played almost every game set up on the grounds except archery. The waitlist was too long by the time we decided to put our name in last night, so we agreed we’d come back today and give them our names as early as possible.

“It will be about twenty or thirty minutes,” the male warrior says after writing Nolan’s name on the list.

“Thanks, Holden,” Nolan says, linking his fingers through mine and leading me away. “Mindlink me when we’re almost up. We’ll stay close.”

“Can we go back to the vendors?” I ask, pointing at the line of booths where pack members are selling handmade items like blankets, candles, and jewelry. “There were a few items I wanted to look at again.”

“Sure,” he says, changing direction a little and meandering over there with me.

I smile at him and let go of his hand when we reach the booths, walking ahead of him and examining the various wares and trinkets. He stays close, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, eyes on me the entire time. He’s back to his quiet, serious self today, aware of his surroundings and any potential danger, even while focused on me.

His protective, observant presence warms me and tickles my lycan. She pushes to the forefront of my mind, making me peek at him every so often, practically drooling over the possessiveness radiating from his body language as he follows me.

His proximity, his obvious attention to my every move, and his scent lingering between my legs leave little doubt of the nature of our relationship to anyone watching or passing nearby. Short of marking me, he’s made a clear claim and painted a warning to others to stay away.

I am his. In almost every way, I am his.

“Oh, look how pretty these are!” I say when we reach a jewelry booth.

“Those are for kids, Cassandra,” Nolan says, huffing out a soft laugh behind me, his hand coming to rest on my hip.

“I know it’s not normal for werewolves and lycans to wear jewelry much after we’ve had our first shift since we’d just ruin it, but I love jewelry,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at him.

A flash of gloating satisfaction lingers on his features. He works to neutralize his expression as I face him, but I catch the tail end of the smugness. “What?”

He shakes his head and shrugs. “Nothing.”

I frown at him but turn my focus to the jewelry table. My fingers trail across the beaded bracelets and the delicate earrings. “I collect jewelry from beautiful places. When I was in the hospital, I watched jewelry making videos. Because of that, my grandparents bring me pieces from places they visit. I keep them in a special wooden jewelry box my mpampa made for me.”

I glance at him again, and he stares at me, his throat bobbing and his fingers flexing against my hip. His eyes scan my face, moving to my pierced but empty earlobes, then to my neck, before they trail down my arm and across the handmade pieces on the table in front of us, where his eyes lock onto an item for sale. “Well, then I guess we should get you something from here, too, shouldn’t we?”

My smile grows, and Nolan’s chest presses into my back, warm and solid and safe as he reaches for a set of earrings. “We’ll take these,” he tells the vendor.

“Can you hold on to them for a bit?” I ask her, pointing behind me towards Nolan’s house. “I left my wallet at home and—”

“I’ve got it,” Nolan says, cutting me off and pulling cash out of his pocket.

I raise a brow at him but pinch my lips together to stop my protests. As much as I already feel indebted to him for barging into his life and invading his space and his home, it feels right to accept a gift from him. To let him pamper me and take care of me.

“Thank you, Gamma Nolan,” she says, nodding her head at him as she places the money in her till. “They will look beautiful on you,” she adds, grinning at me.

Nolan wraps his arm around my waist and guides me away from the booth of distracting, sparkly jewelry, then circles to face me when we’re out of the way of passersby. “Do you want to wear them now?” he asks, holding out the tiny gold studs in the shape of daisies.

“Do you want me to wear them now?” I echo back.

His lips twitch, and he leans closer to me, tucking my hair behind my ears. I tilt my chin up and angle my face to the side as he removes the back from one earring and slides it into my ear. His breath tickles my skin and teases the wisps of hair framing my face, and my heart stutters in my chest. His thumb and forefinger grip my chin and tip my face to the other side, where he puts the other earring in.

The contrast between the strength of his stature and the size of his hands compared to the gentleness he uses while placing his gift on my body fills me with warmth. His fingertips trail across my jaw, and he lifts my chin, lowering his lips to meet mine in a tender yet possessive kiss.

“Perfect,” he says, eyes flitting to each ear before meeting mine again. “Daisies for my Daisy.”

“Thank you,” I say on an exhale.

We stand like that, tucked between two booths, his arm around my waist and his fingers caressing my jaw. Our eyes never leave each other, and our breaths sync, falling into a steady rhythm. My fingers curl into his white shirt, and I lean in closer. His body is a massive, sturdy wall of muscle, his arms the safest of safe places, and I never want to leave.

“They’re ready for us at the archery area,” he murmurs, combing his fingers through my hair.

I nod but otherwise don’t move. I’m glued in place. His piercing gaze extends straight through me. It roots me to the spot I stand in. My smile softens and each pass of his hand through the long strands of my hair eases something inside me.

Nolan’s lips tug into a bigger smile. He glides his palm down my arm, clasping my hand in his and walking back to where Holden is in charge of the archery targets, forcing me to move with him. “If we don’t go, they’ll give our turn to someone else, and who knows how long the waitlist is now. This may be our only chance.”

Holden greets us with a wave when we arrive at the booth. Nolan and I sign the release forms, and I enter the range, practically skipping with excitement as the male warrior working with Holden hands me the bow. Nolan stays on the far side of the booth and outside the roped-off area, waiting until it is his turn.

We may heal quicker than humans, but that doesn’t mean we have complete disregard for safety.

“Are you going to the mating ball this weekend?” Holden asks Nolan as the instructor explains to me the proper way to hold the bow.

I peek at them, and Nolan nods at Holden, his arms crossed over his chest. “I am.”

His eyes flick to me, and I give him a small smile. He’s apprehensive about attending this ball. It will be the first one he’s been to since Kimberly rejected him, and he’s unsure how he’ll feel once we’re there.

But I have a secret weapon. My dress. The one my mom had custom-made for me. It’s currently hidden away in the back of a guest room closet in Haven and Wesley’s house so Nolan won’t accidentally stumble across it.

He may be nervous, but once he sees me in that dress, thoughts of anything else will vanish from his mind.

I smile, and his conversation with Holden and the instructor’s directions fade to background noise as I imagine his reactions upon seeing me. The way his eyes will widen, and his nostrils will flare. The way he’ll drink in every inch of me as I walk towards him.

He’ll yank me against his body and hold me close, telling me how beautiful I am and how he can’t wait to take my dress off me at the end of the evening. His hands will roam over the velvet bodice, and his fingertips will trace the edge of the low V in the front, and—

“Nolan!” A booming male voice echoes over the grounds, interrupting my daydream and snagging Nolan’s attention.

A couple approaches him, both with dark hair and eyes and golden brown skin, excited smiles on both of their faces.

“Hello, Abel. Lorena,” Nolan says, nodding at each of them in greeting, his arms still crossed.

The instructor keeps talking to me, but my attention is only on Nolan.

“How are you?” Lorena asks.

“Fine,” Nolan says.

I am handed an arrow, and I stare at it, giving the instructor a nod even though I remember none of what he told me. I nock the arrow in the bow, lifting and aiming the best I can, racking my brain and praying for the smallest bit of muscle memory from when I did archery for a few years as a child.

“Did you hear the news?” Abel asks.

“What news?” Nolan inquires.

“Rachel found a second chance mate!”

Thwack. The arrow releases and hits the left side, as far to the edge as it can be without being off the target. I pay little attention to it, though, as my focus is on Nolan and the couple he speaks with.

Nolan blinks at them. “Really?”

Lorena nods, her dark brown eyes shining with excitement. “Yes!”

I nock my next arrow, and the instructor nods encouragingly at me. Only then do I realize he was speaking to me again while I was listening to Nolan. I raise the bow, but I’m only half focused on the target across the field. The rest of my brain is processing Nolan’s conversation.

“That is great news,” Nolan says. “Who is he?”

Thwack. The second arrow hits the far right side of the target, directly opposite of my first arrow. I reach for the third arrow right away, broadening and strengthening my stance and engaging my abdomen muscles as I raise my bow and take aim.

“He’s from the pack whose packhouse she’s redesigning currently,” she tells him. “That’s all she gave me permission to say about it right now. Rachel has some concerns and is hesitant about the whole thing at the moment. But I have high hopes that she’ll come around to him.”

Inhale. Exhale. Focus. Don’t let outside distractions interfere. It’s just me and the target.

“I wish her the best,” Nolan says.

“We’ll let you get back to work,” Abel says, wrapping his arm around his mate. “I’m sure Alpha Wesley and Luna Haven are waiting for you.”

My last arrow flies, and I spin around, not caring what area of the target it hits. They both wave at Nolan, and he stares after them as they walk away, his body tense. A chill runs down my spine, sending goose bumps over my skin and forming a block of dry ice in my stomach.

“Nolan?” My voice shakes with the shivers cursing my body and my soul as I hand the bow to the instructor and walk to the exit of the enclosed area.

I rest my hand on his shoulder, and he blinks at me. His fingers dig into his biceps, and his nostrils flare as his jaw ticks.

“Who is Rachel?” I ask, working to keep my tone curious and free of jealousy or bitterness.

I’m certain I failed.

“My ex,” he says.

His throat works, and his head whips around towards the packhouse. The words linger in the air— my ex —each syllable piercing into my soul like my arrows pierced the target. He glances down at me for the shortest second, then back towards the packhouse, his eyes frantic. His stare is endless, and time stops along with my heart as I wait for him to say or do something.

When he finally looks at me again, he winces, running his hand over the top of his head before gripping the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Daisy, I… Something came up and I need to go. I won’t be too long. I promise.”

I swallow and blink my eyes, pushing the itching in them away as I nod. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, gripping and squeezing my shoulders once before rushing off towards the packhouse.

Leaving me all alone.

After Nolan left, I spent the rest of my day with Maddie, playing cornhole as her teammate since we did so well together yesterday and sampling food from every stand and truck we came across, until we couldn’t eat another bite.

But it’s now evening, and Maddie has disappeared, running off to join her friends. As pack members light the fire pits, everyone else also splits off into pairs or smaller groupings, gathering around the fires with their friends and family.

I stand on the edge of the event, arms folded to block against the chill in the evening mountain air. Nolan’s friends sit around a fire nearby, laughing and chatting amongst themselves. Reid has a sleeping Savvy draped over his chest, her hands curled under her round cheek against his shoulder. He holds Taryn’s hand, and across from them, Haven sits in Wesley’s lap, his hand resting protectively over her growing belly. They’re cozy and familiar as they enjoy the slow pace of the end of the festival, warming themselves with the flames of the fire and the bonds of their camaraderie, none of them noticing Nolan’s absence.

Or mine.

Loneliness plagues me, and I spiral deeper into confusion and trepidation, a torrent of questions haunting my mind.

Where did he go? Why did he leave in such a panicked rush? Did the mention of Rachel trigger him to rethink everything and need space from me, or was his exit caused by something unrelated?

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what Rachel meant—or means—to him. She’s the one the ring on his dining room table was for. He didn’t need to elaborate when he told me she’s his ex. Not his ex-mate, the one who rejected him, but an ex-girlfriend. Someone he wanted to take as a chosen mate.

What does she have that I don’t?

No. I can’t let myself think that way. Something came up. Someone mindlinked him. He was in a hurry because he was needed elsewhere, which is why he didn’t explain everything to me before he took off. Maybe something happened to his mom or his dad. Maybe Wesley needed him to run an urgent errand.

Even with those attempts to encourage myself, my stomach twists. I spin away from the gathering, blinking against the itching in my eyes. I take my phone from my pocket and dial my mom’s number, not caring what time it is for her. I need to feel that sense of family that the Crescent Lake members are experiencing right now, and I can only get that from her and my dad.

But the phone rings and rings with no answer, until it rolls over into her voicemail. I bite my lip and end the call. In my current state of mind, I’d just leave a blubbering mess of incoherent rambling.

I gaze over the expanse of the shore, once more taking in the groups gathering around the fires. He left me alone to navigate the intricacies of life in his pack, and once again, all my insecurities surrounding my relationship with Nolan come rushing back to the forefront of my mind.

But determination quickly replaces the insecurity. So what if he isn’t here? And who cares if he hasn’t answered his phone or any messages I’ve sent him? I’ll find out where he is and what he’s doing and go to him instead.

Yes. That’s what I’ll do.

I take off towards Nolan’s house, my steps hurried and purposeful. I’ll grab my purse, find someone to drive me into town if I have to, and I’ll hunt Nolan down and make him tell me what’s going on.

Upon entering his house, though, it’s clear he’s here. The lights are all on, and his phone is on the entry table where he sometimes leaves his things when he’s in a hurry. I breathe a small sigh of relief, even though I don’t understand why he didn’t let me know he was back, and I head up the stairs. I stop short, however, when I reach the doorway to his room.

Much like this morning, his back is to me as he sits on the edge of the bed. He’s hunched in concentration, staring at something in his hand.

A small, unopened, black velvet jewelry box.

The same jewelry box that sat on his table the day I arrived. The box with the solitaire square cut yellow diamond ring inside it.

Ice returns to my veins along with every insecurity I worked to banish from my mind. The pain inside me grows into a behemoth tree of agony, rising with every second, twisting itself around my heart and ingraining itself into my soul.

I gave myself too much hope. Looking back, I realize there were signs. I overlooked them, though, preferring to remain optimistic. He claimed me, sexually and verbally, telling me I was “his,” but it was always selfish possessiveness, never love. He never opened up to me beyond the bare minimum. I ignored it all, though. I wanted to be accepted and loved so badly that I let myself pretend the warning signs weren’t there. But in the back of my mind, I knew our time together had an expiration date.

I just didn’t think it would arrive so soon.

I turn to leave, tears pooling in my eyes. Tomorrow I’ll ask Haven to help me move my things out of Nolan’s room and his house. For tonight, I want to be alone with my sorrow and my pain.

But the floorboards creak. I freeze, inhaling, my fists clenching as I face the bedroom again, my stomach tumbling down a mountain and into an endless gaping pit. Nolan rises from the bed, his head whipping towards me, his eyes widening, and his body tensing. “Cassandra! I—”

“Save your breath, Nolan,” I say, pushing my anguish and my tears aside and lacing my voice with firm determination and cool indifference. “I thought we had something special together. Something real. Turns out you were just pretending. I should have realized sooner you were using me as a Band-Aid.”