Page 95 of The Gamma's Second Chance

Nolan stares at me.Seconds pass, then minutes, and still, nothing happens.

No spark. No special scent luring me closer to him or a reaction to him from my lycan.

There’s nothing.

I don’t know why I expected there would be. I’ve known my whole life—no bond of fate draws her soul to another.

They were always just words. Words hanging over me like a daunting, dark cloud, but even so, hope blossomed. How could it not? There was no physical evidence, nothing tangible. Only a vague phrase thrown my mother’s way during my reading as an infant. It wasn’t the same as the reports from my doctors, with blood tests confirming infertility. Not like scans that show my body no longer has all the necessary organs to grow a new life inside me. I accepted my loss of fertility, accepted the tangible, irrefutable evidence, but the seeds of hope for a mate never disappeared.

Not completely.

And now my hope is shattered into infinite, microscopic pieces.

Nolan’s expression shifts from confusion to realization to sadness. Not sadness for me, but sadness with me, as if my pain is his.

Like it would be if we were true mates.

I crash forward into his chest, clutching at the collar of his half-undone shirt, burying my nose against his skin. He wraps his arms around me, embracing me and continuing our swaying, keeping my face hidden so no one else can see my anguish, pretending for the rest of the world that we’re just dancing. The hint of his spicy cardamom scent hits my nose, and I cling to it like a lifeline, pressing my face harder into his torso.

It’s not as strong as they say a mate’s scent should be, but it calms me all the same. It’s familiar and comforting, warm and inviting.

As we continue our charade of dancing, I mindlink Haven, thankful I had the foresight to ask Wesley to make me a pack member yesterday morning.“Haven,”I say, my voice strained even in mindlink.“I need to get out of here. Please.”

There is a flicker of awareness from her end of our link, and I feel her eyes on Nolan and me. “Wesley,” she says, her voice a little louder than her usual volume, “I think I’m ready to turn in for the night.”

He replies to her, but I don’t listen to what he says. Instead, I shoot off one more mindlink to Haven before closing the connection.“Thank you.”

Several seconds pass. I detect Haven’s light, dainty steps traveling towards an exit underneath the music and Wesley’s heavier, dominating footfalls moving in time with hers. Another few moments, and Nolan sweeps me out of the ballroom, having danced us to the edge of the crowd without me realizing it.

The door clicks shut behind us, and everything is a blur as Nolan guides me into a back stairwell. I gulp down air and rush to the railing, gripping it as tight as I can until my knuckles turn white. Pebbles of misery rain down on me from all sides, leaving pockmarks on my heart and bringing tears to my eyes, and I bite my lip against the pain tearing through me.

I can’t get air in fast enough. My lungs won’t fill.

I claw at the back of my dress, grappling with the buttons but unable to get the proper leverage to undo them. “Nolan—”

“I’ve got it,” he murmurs.

The protective heat of his body covers mine, and he slides my ponytail over my shoulder and unbuttons my bodice with deft fingers, tracing my spine as he works his way down. His face hovers near my neck, his breath teasing my skin. The brush of his nose, the warmth of his presence, and the caress of his fingers all give me something to focus on other than the sheer disappointment shadowing my soul.

When he undoes every button, his hands glide up my back to my shoulders, gripping them in each hand as he kisses my nape, stepping closer so his chest presses into my back. “Breathe, Daisy,” he says, inhaling and exhaling in a steady rhythm. I closemy mouth and inhale through my nose, then blow the air out through my lips, mimicking the tempo he sets. “That’s it. I’m here. I’m with you.”

An arm wraps around my waist, and he sways with the beat of our breaths. A dance of compassion to soothe the aching, gaping wound in my soul. Nolan is stalwart and calm behind me, easing my tension and suffering. His lips stay on my neck, pressing soft kisses there occasionally as he gives me as much time as I need to lessen my pain.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” he asks once my harsh breaths taper, giving me a squeeze.

I shrug and swipe away a tear from my eyelashes. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. ‘No bond of fate’ and all that.” He spins me around and cups my cheek, bringing my gaze to his. “I guess I thought maybe they were wrong. I was hoping they were wrong. Or that maybe something changed. I…” I lick my lips and close my eyes, leaning my face against his palm. “I wanted you to be my mate.”

My heart clenches. It’s not the lack of a mate bond, but the lack of a mate bondwith himthat has me so distraught. The hope was always there, a tiny blossom in the cracks of my soul, but it grew into a flowering vine in the light of his attention and his adoration. “I wanted you to be my mate,” I repeat, opening my eyes to meet his.

His gaze softens, and his other hand joins his first on my face. “I already told you, I don’t need the mate bond. Fuck, I don’t even want the mate bond. All I need is you. We will make our own bond, Cassandra.”

Our own bond. Our own path. A perfectly imperfect journey to match our perfectly imperfect souls.

I stare at him, at the utter certainty in his eyes, and I make a split-second decision. I draw in a breath, my shaking handspressing against the swarm of butterflies rising in my stomach. “Mark me.”

His entire body tenses. Every muscle tightens. My words trigger him to act, but he lies in wait. He’s a cobra ready to strike, or a tiger ready to pounce, or a racehorse waiting for the signal to run. He blinks, and his fingers dig into my cheeks as he holds himself back from me. “What?”

My gaze darts between his darkening eyes. “Mark me, Nolan. Here. Tonight. Right now.”

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