“Maybe not,” Beck says, rallying fast, “but I’m pretty sure my grandma had that exact model. She might have some extra tennis balls for the bottom.” He glances up at me and smiles like he’s praying I’ll do the same. “The upside is people will start offering you their seat on the bus.”
The corner of my mouth twitches. Barely.
“How about you lie back down?” Beck gives me his sweetest smile. “I can make you something to eat.”
The thought of food makes my stomach roll.
“I’m good.” I force a smile, and Beck’s smile falls.
“You aren’t, alpha,” he whispers softly. Like he’s scared he’s going to offend me. “You’re very sick.” He reaches up, brushing my hair off my sweaty forehead. “Come on.” His blue eyesflicker to the bed behind me. “I’ll lie down with you.”
“No,” I say gently. “I’m done lying in bed. I’d like to get a bit of work done.”
“Cass.” Warren’s voice drops, firm enough to cut through the fever fog. “You can’t even stand up straight. The doctor said bed rest. Today is not an office day.”
“I’m fine,” I repeat, sharper, trying to make it true by sheer force.
Then the floor tilts.
The room lurches sideways, and my vision goes grainy at the edges. Beck lets out a startled, “Cass!” as my knee threatens to give.
Warren is on me in half a second. His hand clamps around my bicep, the other bracing my back as he guides—no,forces—me back onto the mattress.
“Easy,” he says, low in my ear. “Sit. Now.”
I don’t have a choice. My body folds, dropping back onto the bed harder than I mean to. The mattress creaks as cold sweat beads along my hairline.
Beck scrambles up beside me, hands hovering like he wants to touch but doesn’t know where. “Please just lie down,” he begs, voice cracking. “You’re scaring me.”
The worst part is he’s not wrong.
I let out a breath that feels a lot like defeat and ease back against the pillows, muscles shaking with the effort I alreadyspent.
Once Warren is satisfied I’m not about to hit the floor, he eases back a step, giving me space. But Beck presses closer, tucking himself against my side like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.
I close my eyes for a beat, breathing him in.
“Bed rest,” Warren says quietly. “Doctor’s orders.”
I want to argue. I want to tell them all to get the hell out and let me stand on my own two feet, even if one of them doesn’t work right. But the fight drains out of me as fast as it came.
The truth is, I’m exhausted.
I stay still, staring at the ceiling, and try not to think about how fucking weak and useless I’ve become.
The Silk Den
Tansy
The secondI step out of the dressing room, my mother’s nose wrinkles, like I’m tracking mud across the pristine white floors of the Silk Den instead of wearing a five-hundred-dollar dress.
My tiny omega mother stands there in the middle of the glittering showroom like she owns it. Back straight, shoulders set in her perfectly tailored cream pantsuit. Her long chestnut hair is pulled into a sleek twist at the nape of her neck, but the strands framing her temples have started to silver. Instead of softening her, the grays just make her look sharper. Colder. Every inch of her is curated, polished, controlled.
Her eyes skim me from top to bottom, so slowly it feels like a punishment.
“That can’t be the one you picked,” she says, voice flat enough to iron clothes with. “It’s…very bold.”
Translation:unflattering.
