“You won’t,” she says, and there’s no hesitation in her voice, no doubt. “I know you. Better than you think. And I know you’d never hurt me. Not on purpose. Not if you can help it.”
Her words wrap around me, warm and insistent, her pure blueberry perfume reinforcing them. The way she says it—without hesitation, without any doubt—makes something inside me buckle. It’s terrifying how easily she believes in me, how she can say with certainty that I won’t hurt her, not on purpose. I don’t trust myself half as much as she trusts me. But there’s something about the way she’s looking at me right now, so steady, so sure, that makes me want to believe her.
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” I whisper, the words raw as they scrape out of me. “I’ve messed everything up before. I don’t want to do that to you.”
Her hand is still on my face, and when her thumb traces a slow, deliberate line across my cheek, it feels like it anchors me to this moment, to her. “Like I said, you’re stronger than you think,” she says, and her voice is so calm, so unshaken, like it’s a fact she’s known all along. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER 39
Mason
Apparently,Blue Ridge is bigger than I thought.
I never realized how sprawling this town is until we started searching for Chad. The streets feel endless, stretching out like some kind of cruel maze, keeping us from finding him. It’s driving me crazy, and I can feel the tension rolling off Dean in waves beside me. He’s trying to keep it together, but I know him well enough to see that he’s barely holding on.
And me? I’m not doing much better. The bond… it’s there like a low hum vibrating through me. I canfeelChad—his emotions, his pain—but there’s no clear direction, no sense of where he is. Just the raw, jagged edges of how broken he feels. It’s like trying to catch smoke in my hands, and it’s making me almost frantic.
“Can’t you track him with the mark?” Dean asks sharply, his frustration slipping into his voice as he glances over at me. “You’re bonded, right? You should be able to feel where he is.”
I shake my head, trying to steady myself.
“It doesn’t work like that.” My voice comes out more clipped than I mean it to, but I can’t help it. The pressure inside me isbuilding, pushing against my ribs, and it’s all I can do to keep it together. “I’m sorry, man, this is my fault.”
Dean lets out a dry, humorless laugh, the kind that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Pretty sure I’m the one he’s running from, not you. I pushed too hard, too fast.”
I drag my fingers through my hair, my messy bun hanging by a thread. “They don’t teach you in school that scent-bound packs can resist the bond like this. They really do make it sound more like a fairytale.”
“Not the kind of fairytale you envisioned, huh?” Dean snorts, the bitterness clear in his voice. This time, I know he’s laughing at me. The mocking edge cuts deeper than I’d like to admit, but I can’t blame him.
“No,” I sigh.
He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches out, broken only by the steady crunch of our footsteps on the gravel and the distant chirping of crickets in the cool night air. The tension between us thrums like a live wire, but neither of us seems willing to break it. We just keep walking, searching, as if the quiet will somehow give us the answers we need.
My gaze sweeps across the park, catching on a pair of figures tucked away in the shadows. My heart stills. Lakelyn. Chad. Relief floods through me, a sense of calm washing over the frantic pulse inside me. At least they’re safe.
But before I can take a step closer, Lakelyn’s head jerks up, her eyes narrowing as they lock onto us. She rises, positioning herself in front of Chad, her body a shield, protective and unyielding. Her stance tells me everything—she’s ready to fight, to defend him, even from us. The tension radiating off her is almost a physical force, and I stop in my tracks, raising my hands slightly to show I’m not a threat.
“Lake,” I call softly, trying to soothe the tension. “It’s just us.”
She doesn’t relax. Her gaze flicks between me and Dean, and she crosses her arms, a barrier between us and Chad. "He doesn’t need this right now,” she warns, her voice firm, layered with an edge of steel.
My beta. My girl. Protecting my omega.
If my heart could leap out of my chest and hand itself over to her, it would. Because if I hadn’t already loved her with every fiber of my being, this moment would’ve sealed it. Watching her stand her ground like this—fierce, loyal, protective—something inside me swells, and I know I’m not just in love with her. I’d give everything for her.
Dean shifts beside me, uneasy, but I don’t care. All I see is Lakelyn standing there with that fire in her eyes, and I realize she’s not just protecting Chad. She’s protecting both of us—Chad from his emotions and me from myself, from pushing too hard.
I take a breath, steadying myself. “I know,” I say softly, my voice cracking slightly as I speak. “But I’m not here to make things harder. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
Lakelyn doesn’t move. Her eyes soften just a little, but her stance doesn’t waver. She’s still a shield between us and Chad, and it makes my chest ache in ways I can’t put into words.
“He’s fine, I’ve got him,” she repeats, her voice quieter now, but no less certain.
My eyes flick over to Chad, still seated on the bench behind her. He’s trembling, and the urge to rush to him claws at my insides. The bitter tang of his perfume hits me hard, a mix of emotions swirling in the air, making it difficult to breathe. I swallow against the tightness in my throat, trying to calm the surge of panic building inside me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice quiet, almost breaking. “For not handling things better. I really fucked it all up.”
I keep my gaze on him, waiting—hoping—for some sign that he’s hearing me. For a second, it feels like my words are hangingin the air, unanswered, but then he lifts his head. His eyes meet mine, glassy with his emotions. But there’s something else there, too. A flicker of fire, a hope that hasn’t been extinguished.
