"My apologies," he drawls, his voice a low, teasing rasp. “I didn't mean to interrupt.”
The playful mood evaporates the second he takes a step. He limpshard, and a wave of guilt crashes over me.
I did that.
I let Cass rut me, again and again, forcing him to put a ton of weight on his leg. I was so lost in my own need, in the pack's need to heal me, that I completely forgot he was injured.
"Oh my god," I breathe, pulling away from Beck. “Your knee. I'm so sorry.”
Cass’s teasing smile softens as he stops in front of me. "Hey, none of that," he says, his voice firm but kind. "Don't you dare feel guilty. Iwantedto tend to you. In fact, I begged you to let me." His free hand coming up to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin. "You're worth a little pain, Tansy Vexler."
Calling me by our pack name hits me like a physical touch.
Tansy Vexler.
My whole body lights up from the inside out, a warm, glowing feeling that starts in my chest and spreads to my fingertips. It sounds so fucking good, so right, coming from hislips.
Without thinking, I rise up on my toes, grab the back of Cass’s neck, and pull him down to me. I kiss him right on the lips. It’s hard and desperate and full of everything I'm feeling—gratitude, love, and a bone-deep sense of belonging.
As our mouths move together, the sound of steak hitting a hot, sizzling pan fills the room, followed by the delicious, savory aroma. Beck has started cooking. I smile against Cass's lips, my heart so full it feels like it might burst.
"Smells good in here," a deep voice says from the doorway.
I pull away from Cass just in time to see Warren stroll in. He's shirtless too, in only a pair of gym shorts, his hair still damp from a shower. He’s all smiles, looking like he's ready to start his day.
“How is everyone this beautiful morning?” He stops behind me, his hands coming to rest on my hips, his chin hooking over my shoulder. He presses a soft kiss to my cheek, his scent—clean cedar and morning air—surrounding me. "Good morning, gorgeous," he murmurs, his voice a warm caress. Then he turns to Beck. “That smells amazing.” Then he kisses Beck’s cheek, too.
The beta smiles as he flips a cut of steak with a flourish. "You're just in time for the main course. Eggs are next."
“I’ll grab some plates,” Warren opens the nearest cabinet. “Gray should be out of the shower any second.”
Warren moves, pulling plates and cutlery, setting the table while Beck starts cracking eggs, butter hissing. Cass and I sit at the little table, his hand resting at my lower back, enjoying the soft sounds around us.
Grason appears last with wet curls, tugging a shirt over his head as he steps into the kitchen. Beck slides a pile of scrambled eggs onto a plate, then grins as if he timed it on purpose.
Then we eat.
I sit in Grason’s lap, his arm around my middle as we all devour the food.
As always, breakfast is perfect…well, technically lunch.
Plates are practically licked clean in minutes. Forks scrape, then slow, then stop.
Beck clears what’s left while Warren pours coffee, the rich smell cutting through the last of the quiet. We settle into that easy, post-meal lull, everyone leaning back a little, steam curling from mugs as low conversation drifts around the table. It feels so normal.
I trace the rim of my mug with my thumb, listening to them talk, letting the calm sink in.
But, like always, it doesn’t last.
I can’t help but feel like shit for everything that happened last night.
“I…um…I should say something,” I murmur, and the table goes quiet. My stomach tightens, not with panic. Just a dull, tired knot. “About last night.” I swallow and keep my eyes on my coffee. “I’m sorry about how my family acted. I knew it was going to be tense, but I didn’t expect it to go like that. I hate that you had to?—”
Cass doesn’t let me finish.
His hand slips over mine on the table, warm and firm. “No,” he says gently but without room for argument. “Don’t apologize for them. None of that was your fault.”
Grason’s arm tightens around my middle at the same time, his hold going a little firmer, more protective, like he’s anchoring me in place. I lean back into him without thinking, letting myself be held.
