“Ri,” I say, hesitating as I’m unsure how to phrase what I’m trying to get at. “I don’t mean this to come out in a bad way, but can you help me understand why this is hitting you so hard?”
The drill squeals in their hand as the screw hits flush with the wood, and Riley drops one hand, staring sightlessly up at the screw. Then he plods down the ladder to sit on the porch steps.
I sink down next to them and wait.
“You and Vee,” he says, words coming out slow. “You’re alphas, and you seem to have this instinctual understanding of how to protect. How to keep Sage safe and comfortable, how to help her feel better.”
I nod, suspecting I know where this is going. He leans forward with a sigh, elbows on his thighs and head dropping to look down between his feet. His sweet lemon scent is nowhere to be found.
“I’m just a beta,” he says, and a small growl slips from my throat before I’m able to cut it off.
He quirks a sad, tiny smile, but doesn’t look at me. Their throat bobs with a hard swallow as they shake their head, blue hair flopping onto their forehead as they stare at the step below them.
“I’m not trying for a pity party or anything. I’m fine with being a beta. Happy with it, even. It’s just that sometimes… I don’t feel like I’m enough. I don’t have a purr. I don’t have a knot. I’m not big and strong and dominant. I don’t even have any special skills—I just work in the gift shop. And now that we have you and Sage…”
My heart hurts and I want to scoop him into my arms, but that’s not what he needs. Not yet. I wait again, knowing they’ll continue if I give them the space to voice their thoughts.
“I worry I’m not good enough for you,” he whispers, voice catching in his throat.
My alpha can’t hold back anymore. I pluck them up and deposit them on my lap, and my purr rumbles to life in my chest. Riley turns startled eyes on me when they feel it, and I tilt my head. I ache at the depth of dispirited sadness radiating from their dimmed blue gaze.
This beautiful beta should never look bleak.
“Riley,” I say. My voice is soft and low, and I push every ounce of emotion I have into it. “Don’t you know? There is no deserve. We were made for each other. You’re perfect for me, just like Sage is perfect for you, and Vee is perfect for her. There is no good enough. Neveah, Sage and me. We just wantyou.
“You with your big heart and easy humor. Your absolutely genius gift and date ideas, even if they are making my hair grey already. Your light holds this pack together. Where do you think we’d be without you?”
Riley stares at me, that deep melancholy shifting to cautious hope before my eyes, and I tighten my arms around him.
“For real. Where would we be?” I ask, and he shakes his head, a bewildered look on his face. When he doesn’t answer the question, I do. “I’d be a bumbling, confused mess with no one to keep me from falling into a pit of stress. Neveah would be running around like a chicken with her head cut off while still puffing up all her feathers in an attempt to look serious. And Sage would probably be hiding in a nest she isn’t satisfied with while pretending everything is okay.”
“That’s not?—”
“It is,” I interrupt. “It’s the truth. You’re our glue, Riley.”
Their eyes turn glassy, and they squirm until they can twist their arms around me, holding tight. I understand the need for space and closeness at the same time, so I give them a minuteto process. I stroke my palm up and down their back, keeping the other arm looped firmly around them.
“You’re purring,” they say. Their breath ruffles the hair behind my ear.
“For you,” I reply.
“I didn’t know that was possible.”
“You’re mine. I’d do anything for you.”
Riley sits with that, seeming to let my words reshape their view of themself and their role in our pack. Their fresh lemon scent tickles my nose, and I breathe it deeply into my lungs as relief and satisfaction swirl through me.
“I’d do anything for you too,” Riley finally says.
I nod. “Then you know exactly how I feel about you.”
Riley readjusts to tilt his head against my shoulder and blinks up at the sky. My purr rumbles through us, and I comb a hand through his hair, then stroke my palm down his spine before circling my arm around him again. Their weight in my lap is grounding, heartening, and I align my breaths to theirs as they silently wrestle with what we’ve both said.
We track the bees as they buzz from lavender stalk to lavender stalk, and Riley points out a swallowtail butterfly that flutters past. We absorb the warmth of the sun and the comfort of each other until they’re ready to keep working.
Then we finish installing the cameras and Riley connects them to the app that will send us alerts when there’s movement detected.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
