Page 76 of Pack Scratch Fever
She’s so sweet it makes my chest ache.
“You’re remarkable,” I admit quietly. I heat the olive oil in the pan and turn my back to her, opening the pantry to find a can of coconut milk.
I hear her scoff. “You had a kitten that needed help, Poe. It’s not remarkable. It’s what any person would do.”
“That’s the thing.” I turn back around, canned milk in hand. “Not any person. Only good people.”
She chews her lip and looks away. “Yeah,” she mutters.
I catch a glimpse of her mating gland peeking out from her blouse, and my mouth waters.
She’s right there to take, mere steps away. It would be so easy to mark her.
But her scent has soured in the time since my compliment, as if she doesn’t believe my words.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask, and I’m met with a pair of sad eyes.
She shrugs. “You didn’t. It’s just…” her voice trails off. “Just don’t put me on a pedestal, okay? I’m not a saint or anything like that. I could be doing more.”
I frown. “What are you talking about?”
“There’s always more I could be doing,” she repeats softly. “I could be more successful. So don’t make it seem like what I do is a huge accomplishment when it’s not.”
I stare at her, confused.
Finally, it clicks.
“Who told you that?” I ask, taking a step toward her.
She looks up at me, her eyes guarded. “What do you mean?”
“Those aren’tyourwords. Those aren’t coming from you. Someone else told you that at least once, and it stuck with you.”
And the reason I know that? It’s my internal monologue.
But it was originally spoken by someone else.
Piper’s scent sours even more, and I worry I’ve ruined the evening before it even started.
“No one,” she snaps. “I just know what I’m capable of, and I’m not reaching my full potential.”
I want to argue with her and insist that she not talk about herself that way. I want to force her to see herself the way my packmates and I see her.
But her walls are still up, and I have no right to ask anything of her.
Instead, I offer her some of my own truth—it’s the least I can do for her.
“I feel the same way,” I say, and her eyebrows scrunch together.
She motions to me. “Are you serious? Nowthat’sinsane. Coming from the guy who works so hard he doesn’t leave his office?”
I shrug. “There’s always more to do, right?”
Piper shakes her head. “Not in your case. I’m sure you’ve done enough for ten lawyers.”
“And you’ve done enough for a hundred cat ladies, but here we are.”
She scoffs, but she smiles, and that will have to do for now.
