Page 77 of Pack Obsession

My face burns as I grab one of the drinks, nearly spilling it when I notice the scars. So many scars, telling stories of violence and survival.

“Like what you see?” he teases, stepping into the water.

“Shut up,” I mutter, sinking lower into the bubbles. “This is totally inappropriate.”

“What’s inappropriate is how tense you still are.” He moves closer, water rippling around his shoulders. “Let me help.”

“That’s... probably not a good idea.” But I can’t look away from the droplets trailing down his neck, catching on his collarbone as he sinks into the water.

He reaches for me, and I know I should stop him, but...

Logan

“Nash.” I keep the blade steady against Julian’s throat, feeling his pulse hammer against the steel. “Get their weapons. All of them.”

Nash moves fast, patting down each guard. Guns, knives, daggers—the pile grows impressive. These guys came loaded for war.

“Good dogs,” Julian sneers at his men. “Just stand there while they?—”

I press the blade deeper. “One more word and I start with your tongue.”

Julian’s jaw clenches so hard, I hear his teeth crack.

Nash finishes the pat-down, gathering the weapons. Without ceremony, he crosses to the window and tosses the entire arsenal out. The clatter of metal on pavement below is oddly satisfying.

“Now,” I say into the tense silence. “All of you… that corner. Away from the door, away from the window.”

When they hesitate, Nash’s smile turns feral. “He said move.”

Julian suddenly barks, “Kill them! I don’t care how?—”

I slam my elbow into his kidney, cutting him off. “What did I say about that tongue?”

The guards exchange looks, then slowly back toward the corner. Nash and I edge toward the door, keeping everyone in our sightlines. Five trained guards against two of us, but we’ve had worse odds.

“Here’s how this goes,” I tell them, feeling Julian tremble with rage in my grip. “Your boss and I need to have a private conversation about certain life choices he’s made. You stay put, you get to walk away. Try anything stupid?—”

“You’re all dead, anyway,” Julian wheezes. “Everyone who helped you. Everyone who touched what’s mine. I have people everywhere, in every?—”

A flash of movement catches my eye, one of the guards reaching for his boot.

“Nash!” I yell.

Nash’s gun barks once, the guard’s thigh exploding in red. But in that split second, another guard hurls something—a fucking paperweight from the desk. It catches Nash’s hand, sending his gun spinning.

“Fuck!”

Julian throws his head back, trying to smash my nose. I dodge, but my grip loosens just enough…

And everything goes straight to hell.

Casey

Axel slides behind me in the water, his presence like a living flame at my back. I should tell him to stop, should maintain some distance to go into this with a clear head. The intensity between us is overwhelming, like standing too close to a bonfire—the warmth is both inviting and dangerous. My heart races as I find myself leaning back, my head falling against his shoulder despite my better judgment. My body is starting to take over again.

“Let me help,” he murmurs, his hands finding my shoulders. When his thumbs dig into the tight muscles there, I have to bite back a response. “You’re carrying too much tension.”

My fingers tremble as I set my drink on the side table. My mind is a storm of confusion and heartache, yet there’s this undeniable pull between us that makes it hard to think straight. The water around us feels too warm, or maybe that’s just me.

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