Page 45 of Pack Obsession

The air between us thickens.

"I... thank you," I manage. "Really. It means everything."

"I know." His expression softens slightly. "Family’s important. We’re going tomorrow night." He starts to turn, then pauses. "And Casey?"

"Yeah?"

"Sweet dreams. I’m sure they will be after a wonderful night with us all together."

He walks away before I can respond, leaving me staring after him, smiling at hearing he enjoyed my attempt at loosening everyone up a bit. I close the door. Fire consumes me. First Logan, now Nash…

My body’s preparing for heat, making me hyperaware of every Alpha in range. And these aren’t any Alphas. They’re strong, protective, and deadly in all the ways that make me crave them.

I force myself to concentrate on tomorrow. On seeing Kai. It’s been too long for him not to know where I am, and I have so much to tell him. Maybe he has news on my friends. Maybe he can...

A twinge hits low in my belly, subtle but unmistakable. A familiar warmth spreads through me, enough to make my breath catch. I clutch my middle.

No. Not now. Please, not now.

My heart races as I stumble to the bathroom, yanking the shower handle to hot. The Nexus instructors’ voices echo in my head.

Early warning signs can be managed. A hot shower can help ward off the preliminary symptoms...

As steam fills the room, I can’t shake the creeping dread. What if this isn’t just another initial ache? What if my heat comes fast?

Hot water pounds against the tile as I lean against the cool bathroom wall, praying the fire building under my skin will fade before it becomes something I can’t control.

Chapter

Fourteen

CASEY

The Range Rover’s engine hums as we wind through darkened streets, its black exterior blending with night. Nash drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift. Music plays softly, classical, which surprises me.

"Didn’t peg you for a Mozart fan."

"Bach, actually." His attention stays on the road. "Helps me think."

I pull my legs up onto the seat, wrapping my arms around my knees. The position makes me feel smaller and safer somehow.

"Is that why you were in my room last night again? Thinking?"

"You were restless." No denial, no defense. Just simple truth. "The nightmares are getting worse, I notice."

I groan under my breath, not needing him to tell me what I already know.

"You fixed my lock and door." Not an accusation, just acknowledgment. He just nods, knowing full well that I locked the bedroom last night. And he still got in, telling me he has a key to my room or picks locks.

I study his profile in the passing lights. The sharp jaw, the slight tension around his mouth.

"Why do you really do it? Watch over me?"

He’s quiet so long I think he won’t answer, while I stare out into the night where we’ve left behind the city and it’s mostly woods around us.

"In the foster homes, no one watched over anyone. You learned to sleep light, or you didn’t sleep at all. And most of the kids there, including me, had some fucked-up backgrounds. Nightmares were normal."

The admission hangs between us. I want to reach for him but hold back for now. Instead, I trace the edge of my seat with my fingertip.

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