Page 33 of Pack Kasen: Part 1

He ends the call and tucks it in his pocket. “Enjoy your run.”

I do.

I enjoy it so much that I don’t return to the house until it’s dark, shirtless, because I lost my T-shirt somewhere in the forest, but relaxed in a way I haven’t been all day.

At least until I jog upstairs to my bedroom, swing open the door and take in the small candle-lit table set for two. Marisa is lying in my bed, wearing a dusky pink silk slip as she flips through a magazine.

I freeze in the doorway.

Shit. I forgot.

Her magazine lowers, and she beams at me. She tosses the magazine aside and gets to her feet, pulling me into the room. “There you are. Finan said you’d gone for a run, but I wasn’t sure when you were coming back. You must be starving to have been out for so long.”

“Sure.” I push the door closed to stop myself from returning to a run that suddenly seems far more attractive than my growling belly.

“I had Agnetha make your favorites,” Marisa says, pulling me toward the table. “You’ve been working so hard that you need to relax.”

T-Bone steak, mashed potatoes, and not a sign of anything green.

There’s a glass of wine for her and a bottle of beer with condensation forming on the bottle for me.

My perfect meal.

She leads me to the table and presses down on my shoulders.

As I take my seat, I’m tense and I couldn’t say why. My tension only decreases when Marisa takes her hands off me and sinks into the seat opposite me. “All that stuff with the feral must be stressing you out so much.”

“It must?” I watch her serve us a portion of the meal.

She nods. “It must be constantly reminding you of your parents. No wonder you’ve been so stressed.”

My shoulders relax.

Yes.

That’s exactly what this is.

The feral is reminding me of what I’ve lost.

Trust Marisa to see it when I couldn’t. I’m too close to the situation. Probably so is Finan.

“I’m just confused,” I say.

She nods firmly. “Once you’ve killed it, then all your tension will melt away.” She pauses before cutting her steak. “Or I can if you want?”

I twist the lid off my beer and lift the bottle to my lips. “Can what?”

“Kill the feral. I don’t mind.”

I take a long draw of my beer and set the bottle down.

Beautiful Marisa in a dusky pink lingerie who has prepared a romantic meal for us, likely waited around for hours for me to return from my run, and hasn’t complained once about me being gone so long when I’m the one who suggested this date.

Now she’s volunteering to get rid of my problem for me. She is easing my burden. I should be jumping all over her offer. So why aren’t I?

“Aren?” she asks, frowning slightly. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” I hack into my steak like it offended me and try not to notice the way Marisa is studying me.

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