Silence falls. Not awkward. Just true.
"So, we all agree? Sharon would make a damn good omega for our pack,” I say.
Pine nods once, decisive. "Yes."
“Agreed,” Cassian says.
Pine grabs the remote and turns on the hockey game. The roar of the crowd fills the room like a pressure valve releasing. The tension breaks.
Cassian drops onto the couch beside Pine. "Good. I needed noise."
Xavier steals the popcorn bowl. Griff steals it back. Logan yells at both of them to stop acting like children. Pine stretches out, his long frame taking up most of the couch. I stay on the floor with my back against the couch, letting the cold hardwood ground me.
The game plays on. Someone scores and the announcers lose their minds. The fire pops and crackles. My chest settles. The tension in my shoulders finally starts to ease.
Cassian mutters, more to himself than anyone else, "Ben never knew how to treat her."
"No," I say quietly. "He never did."
Pine scoffs. "He treated her like cargo. Like something to be managed instead of cherished."
Griff munches on a chip. "Which is why he ended up with a mate who treats him the same way. Karma's a beautiful thing."
Logan cracks a tiny smile. "It really is."
Pine's voice is steady, certain. "Sharon deserves better."
"She deserves us," I say.
Cassian stretches, his boots thudding against the coffee table. "You know what I think?"
"What?"
"Pine Hollow just got a whole lot better."
Pine nods slowly. "Yeah. It did."
I watch the ice on the screen blur into motion as players chase the puck. Something warm and certain rises in my chest.
"Yeah," I say. "It really did."
9
SHARON
The office feels like a walk-in freezer, and I'm pretty sure my fingers have gone numb at least three times in the past hour. I flex them, trying to get blood flowing back into the tips, but all that accomplishes is making them ache worse. Jessica is sitting across from me at her desk, her hair tied up in a messy bun that looks like it started the day neat and has progressively given up on life. She's wearing approximately seven layers, which is desperately needed for the weather outside and apparently also for the weather inside our office, since the heating is out again.
"So let me get this straight," Jessica says, setting down her pen and leaning back in her chair. I watch her freeze for a second like she's waiting to see if the furniture is going to collapse under her. When it doesn't, she continues. "Ben showed up at Cassian's house, saw you basically half-naked with his brother, screamed at you about the wedding, threatened you, and then left with his fiancée like some reluctant toddler being dragged out of the toy store."
"That's the abbreviated version, yes," I say, wrapping my hands around my coffee cup even though the liquid inside has gone lukewarm at best. The ceramic is still warmer than the airin this office. "The longer version involves a lot more screaming and significantly more dramatic eye patch tattoo commentary."
Her eyebrows rise so high they nearly disappear into her hairline, and her mouth opens like she wants to say something but can't figure out which of the seventeen questions in her brain should come out first.
"That eye patch tattoo is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of in my entire life," she finally manages, pushing herself up from her chair and moving toward the small space heater we dragged in from the storage closet. It's doing absolutely nothing to combat the arctic temperatures, but she stands in front of it anyway, holding her hands out like she's warming them over a campfire. "Who gets a permanent eye patch tattooed on their face? Like, that's not a temporary lapse in judgment. That's a commitment to looking ridiculous for the rest of your natural life."
"Ben and Penelope," I say, standing up because sitting still is making me colder. I start pacing the length of the office, which isn't very long, but at least the movement generates some body heat. My boots make soft thumping sounds against the old wooden floorboards. "I don’t get why he was so angry about me being with Cassian. Like, we broke up years ago. He moved on. He's marrying someone else. Why does he care who I'm seeing?"
Jessica abandons the useless space heater and moves to the window, peering out at the snow-covered street below. Pine Hollow looks like a postcard from this angle. All picturesque storefronts and twinkling Christmas lights and mountains rising in the background like something out of a holiday movie.
