Page 6 of Why Cruise

“Well,” I jammed my hands into my pockets, heat creeping up my neck. I didn’t want to admit that I had been poring over the itinerary for weeks. I had a color-coded spreadsheet with the events and excursions, ranking which would be the likely choice of different kinds of packs I might be interested in. “You could just play it by ear and see what vibe you want to go with.”

“Oh, there’s a cocktail mixing contest? That could be fun. There’s a lot of cooking classes. If I never have to cook another meal for an alpha, it will be too soon.”

A spike of anxiety tightened up my throat. The cooking classes were all high on my list. “I was, er, I was kind of looking forward to the sushi class.”

“Okay, we’ll do that one, but can we skip any dance classes?”

We.

She was making plans like we were together, a little pack of our own. The thought warmed me even as it terrified me. I didn’t want to get used to her company and then have her snatched away by some alpha.

“Why don’t we grab a snack? Or maybe an early dinner at one of the specialty restaurants? We probably wouldn’t need a reservation today.”

“Reservation?” Mackenzie slowed to a stop. Her eyebrows crinkled in confusion. It was adorable. “I thought cruises were all-inclusive.”

“Most of the options are included, but the fancy restaurants like the steakhouse and Tiger’s Table are an extra charge. The welcome dinner is tomorrow in the main dining room.”

Something cold shivered between us, like her aura shut off. “We could just stick to the buffet today,” I offered quickly, cursing myself for making her uncomfortable.

Mackenzie’s scent turned sharp with anxiety, probably matching my own. Before I could overthink it, the lie slipped out.

“Actually…” I cleared my throat, trying to sound casual. “I, uh, already booked Tiger’s Table. For two.” More lies tumbled out. “They had this special pre-cruise discount thing. So it’s already paid for. If you wanted to join me later in the week?”

My face burned. I had a reservation - made three months ago when I thought I might meet someone worth taking. Just another part of my desperate planning, along with the color-coded spreadsheets and event rankings.

“Really?” Her entire face lit up. “You’d want me to come?”

“Of course.” That part wasn’t a lie at all. “I heard they do this thing with liquid nitrogen…”

Her laugh echoed down the hallway, drawing looks from passing passengers. But for once, I didn’t care about the attention. Her orange blossom scent had turned warm and happy again, mixing with my coconut in a way that felt like… home.

Ren Delano

This was the second dumbest thing I’d ever done.

I flexed my fists, joints creaking in protest. What a fucking cliche I was living right now. An alpha, clenching their fists as a way of dealing with their emotions. If my hands ached already, this was going to be a long two weeks. I was not developing a pathological fear of the deep. The ocean was just creepy. No one really knew what was under the water. Maybe I’d watched one too many Titanic documentaries.

This whole idea was fucking dumb. I watched my fingers curl, the ring on my thumb looking dull and lifeless under the setting sun.

Tommy handed me a pink-colored drink in a plastic cup. Pretty sure it was his attempt to get into the spirit. Or maybe look the part. The drink was just icy enough to feel good on my sore finger joints. He bounced on the balls of his feet with kid-in-a-candy-store energy. I could feel his aura prickling against mine. Thank fuck, we weren’t actually a pack… yet. I didn’t know if I could stand feeling his pinball energy all the damn time.

“Don’t even think about it, my man,” I mumbled into my first sip.

It was sweet and sour and made my mouth water.

“Talk about a target-rich environment,” Tommy said.

I scanned the deck with practiced eyes. The sun had just set, painting the sky in dangerous shades of gold. The music was loud, and the drinks were already flowing. Cameras, phones, and purses were just casually left on tables and draped over the arms of chairs. Thousands of dollars of merchandise sat there, easy pickings that would snag good value on the resale market. We wouldn’t even need to go to a fence. Just pop it up on PackSpace Marketplace, and no one would be the wiser.

But to get away with petty theft, you actually had to get away. No sense in lifting a $500 camera if you couldn’t offload it right away and had to sleep next to the evidence for two weeks.

We both knew lifting a camera wouldn’t solve the problem.

I let my eyes roam over the Port Haven skyline bathed in pinks and golds. The Floating District glittered like a mirage, its series of artificial islands seeming to hover above the water. The Mired District was where I belonged. Its dark presence faded into the horizon as we sailed away.

I forced my attention back to the swarms of people on the deck. All happy and bubbly, full of vacation potential.

My crowd-reading skills were honed at the Hermes Centre Mall. Years of misspent youth watching from the sidelines as alphas prowled and omegas strutted. Until I became one of those alphas.

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