“This could also be our in with Blair,” Ryland adds. “You can ask her for advice about the girls and show her photos.”
“She’s not talking to me,” Travis sighs.
“What the hell do you mean, she’s not talking to you?” I ask. “Gether to talk to you.”
His jaw tenses. “It doesn’t work like that with her,” he mutters, as the kitten crawls up onto his shoulder.
“God,” I groan. “Try.”
But a flush has begun to spread up my pack leader’s neck and to his face. “Ido. But I’m not going to force her to talk to me.”
“Wait, she’s been like that ever since the match?” Ryland asks softly.
Travis nods.
My brother’s face flickers with pain, and I’m helpless to stop it.
“She’s…sad,” Travis adds, his voice gruff. “And I don’t know why. I can’t force her to talk to me—her walls are up again, like when we first met. She’s polite and she smiles—but it’s like she’s not there.”
Ryland lets out a deep, shaky breath.
“It’s not because of you,” I tell him. “You barely spoke to her.”
The kitten in my lap begins to purr as I absentmindedly stroke her chin. She closes her eyes in bliss.
“I feel fucking helpless,” I admit to my packmates. “Knowing she’s hurting, and that I can’t do anything about it. Then, I found these kittens, and bottle fed one. It just feels nice to be…wanted,” I admit shamefully. “If I can’t be there for her, if I can’t help her, at least I can care for these three.”
Silence fills the room, and I feel my brother watching me.
“We’ll need kitten formula, wet food to wean them on, a heating pad, a litter box—” Travis starts, but I interrupt him.
“Already have all that. I was sent home with a box full of supplies.”
Travis nods. “I guess we have four cats now,” he murmurs, petting the kitten that rests on his shoulder. “But no morecoming home with any animals until we discuss it first. Any. I don’t care if it’s a damn goldish.No more pets.”
Ryland nods. “Sounds good.”
I nod as well, marveling at the kitten that has fallen asleep in my lap.
It doesn’t take away the ache of needing the Omega I haven’t met yet.
But it’s something.
8
TRAVIS
Blair doesn’t talkto me anymore.
I mean, she does, but it’s not like the way it used to be.
So, every shift at Scents, I bartend with her in silence like an idiot, only speaking when one of us is in the way of the other person. I still walk her to her car, but our friendly banter is gone.
I still haven’t confirmed that we’re scent matches, but even if we’re not, I’ll still happily be with her.
I picked Ryland and Rowan as my packmates for a reason. They’re my best friends, and they’re strong where I’m not. Brave when I’m a coward, outspoken when I’m quiet.
And if Blair is their scent match, and not mine? It’s fine.
