Page 113 of Poet & Protector

I crouched beside her. “Be careful, it’s easy to cut yourself on glass shards. I know where to get a broom. Hang on.”

As I started to rise, Cosette looked at me. “I’m sorry, Mason. Dax shouldn’t have said those things.”

I was so surprised by her quiet apology, I froze.

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know why he’s like that. You and Nev are so good together.” Then she offered me a timid smile. “I hope you know how happy you make him.”

My throat closed up at her unexpected kindness. I knew almost nothing about Cosette. She spent so much time trying to be invisible. That was a side effect of Efron’s predatory habits, but it meant she often hid herself off from the rest of us.

“Thank you.” I barely managed the words.

She nodded, then smiled again. “Broom?”

“Broom.” I stood up. “On it.”

I went to ask the bartender for a broom and dustpan. He was more than happy to hand off clean-up responsibilities.

As I crossed back to the table, I spotted Shay and Calla near the stage. They appeared to be…doing the tango? What the hell?

My packmates were likewise transfixed on the strange antics of the human and our alpha. When I left them, the mood was strained, the direction of the rest of the night unclear to all of us. Now, Bryn and Ansel were taking turns cocking their heads to one side and then the other, as if watching Shay and Calla from the correct angle would somehow explain what they were doing.

I stopped beside them. Cosette appeared and wordlessly took the broom and dustpan from me. I started to object, but she shook her head. Then she laughed, not at me, but at whatever was happening over my shoulder.

When I turned, Shay had abandoned the tango to guide Calla through a series of what looked like ballet spins. Where did he learn to do all of this? The floor by the stage—the floor of the entire bar, truthfully—was uneven and bumpy. Shay somehow managed to lead Calla from one outlandish dance style to the next without a single misstep.

His next choice was the polka. Human and Guardian bounced alongside the stage as Nev and the band broke out a punkified rendition of “Roll Out the Barrel.”

I couldn’t stop my grin. My heart felt lighter than I would have thought possible after what I’d been through.

Then I noticed Calla’s expression. She was laughing; her face glowed with delight. She looked…free. I hadn’t realized how accustomed I’d gotten to Calla’s recent moods, ranging from stern, to sullen, to anxious, but rarely happy. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled like this. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen my alpha captured by such pure delight.

And it was because of Shay. Shay was doing this for her. Not just for her. For us.

His silly performance took our angry frowns and fearful glances and replaced them with goofy grins and laughing eyes. I had no doubt Shay was very happy to have Calla in his arms, but he could have played it very differently and much more selfishly.

Calla abruptly pulled away from Shay, her smile vanishing. She said something to him. He replied and left her alone on the dance floor, coming toward us. I’d barely started to wonder what happened when Ren stormed over to Calla, scowling.

Shit. That was not good.

Calla stood stiffly, ready to meet whatever Ren was about to throw at her.

“Hey, Mason.” Shay stopped beside me. “You okay?”

I pulled my attention away from the alphas to smile at him.

“Better now,” I told him. “You ever considered reality TV dance competitions? Because I think you have what it takes.”

He laughed. “Thanks.”

“Wanna sit down?” I asked. “We have chairs again.”

“Chairs are helpful.”

The rest of the pack, minus Dax and Fey, were already sitting around the table. It looked like Dax and Fey weren’t coming back, which was good. I needed some space before I could be in the same room as either of them. I was grateful we had two days before we’d be back at school.

“Shay, I’m a little worried you might be crazy,” Ansel said when we joined the others.

Shay grinned at him. “I have never claimed otherwise.”