Page 126 of Pack Rivals, Part One

Is this fucking insanity? Is this what it's like?

Or is this what it's like to fall, to fall for someone completely? So that you feel like you might carve up your own skin, just to see them, just to touch them.

The light flicks on and I blink against the dazzling light, seeing Connor leaning against the doorframe.

"What are you doing in here in the dark?"

"Couldn't sleep," I mumble like that's an explanation.

"No, me neither." His eyes roam over my face. "You thinking about her too?"

"Bea?"

"Who else?" He pads into the gym, dressed only in gray sweatpants, and sinks down onto one of the benches.

"Do you think it was the right thing to do, letting her go like that?"

"No," I say, scratching my fingernails through the stubble on my chin. "No, I think it was a mistake. I need her here–"

"Where we can ensure she's safe."

I shake my head. "No, not just that. I need her near." I massage my palm across my left pec. "Do you feel it, man? This pull towards her. I never felt it before."

"Never?" Connor says, leaning back to look at my face again.

"Never."

"But–"

"I never felt anything for that girl." I pause. “Not like he did. And he was young and stupid. I’m telling you. It's different this time."

"It is," my packmate confirms, and I lift my face to examine his eyes now. "Because I feel it. I want her, Axel, for me, for you, for our pack." He slides the sole of his foot against the smooth gym floor. "There's something familiar about her. Like I should always have known her."

"Fuck, man, that's deep."

"Says the man clutching his heart."

We stare at each other.

"Did you smell how sweet she smelled when she left?" I ask him.

He closes his eyes and moans. "You have no idea. Took every thread of my restraint not to bundle her into the nearest bedroom."

"You think she's nearing her heat?"

"Could be. She told Nate her hormones are all messed up at the moment."

"She needs to have her heat with us," I say firmly.

"Damn sure."

"I can't leave her in that shack on the beach. She needs to be here in our home. Inherhome. Somewhere she can build a nest. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of this dance."

Connor nods. "What are we going to do about it?"

I stare down at my hands, at the tattoos scribbled over my knuckles and up the tendons of my forearm.

What I'd give to have her in these hands again? Holding her, touching her. Making her feel good.

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