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Idril sits taller, allowing the blanket to fall to her lap.

“I said,” she repeats, enunciating each word with purpose, “That is quite enough.”

Because I’m so close, I’m nearly touching her; I can feel her body trembling. It takes everything I am not to reach out and place my hand along her lower back to steady her, but despite being so close to each other, we’ve never so much as accidentally grazed one another.

And gods, I want to. I want to fucking touch her. When she speaks again, her voice shakes nearly as badly as her limbs, but she still doesn’t back down.

“Branwen is my friend, and she’s here as Gavran’s guest. You—you can’t talk to her like that.”

Her voice cracks on the last word, but she goes on, fingers curling tighter around her blanket.

“I might not have much experience in social situations, but I do have experience with sadistic Alphas. I did spend twenty-two years surviving one, after all.” Her jaw ticks, eyes flaring with something hot and angry.

“My father is a monster. He is one of the cruelest, most vile beings alive. And yet, compared to you, his manners were impeccable. You might consider that.”

Fuck. Me.

Soren and Caelan both snap to attention, ready to protect their Mate. Idril’s tongue darts out, and she licks her lips. Her dry throat clicks as she swallows.

Fates, she’s terrified.

Terrified… but not backing down.

Dax doesn’t move. Not for a long few moments. Then his mouth opens, lips parting and eyes hardening, and I know—I fucking know—he’s about to make this a thousand times worse.

I brace myself for his attack, confident he’s about to cut her down and destroy every small bit of courage she’s somehow managed to scrape together to stand up for her friend.

But right as I think he’s about to bite back, his hands—curled into fists at his sides—loosen. He inhales a sharp breath, nostrils flaring like he’s trying to catch a scent, and something in him changes.

The shift is so slight I doubt anyone but Caelan and I notice. To me, it’s fucking obvious.

His pupils expand until they’re so wide they nearly eclipse all of the grey. His head tilts to the side—his brow furrows.

And my normally controlled, impenetrable Packmate… submits.

Eyes that have been locked steadily with Idril’s drop, falling to the floor deliberately.

There’s no acknowledgment of what happened on his end, but his eyes close and he takes a deep, long breath like he’s praying for patience. To anyone else, he’s exactly what he’s portraying himself to be in this moment. An Alpha fighting against his irritation and wrangling his control back into submission. I fucking know better.

He’s not upset. He’s not mad. Fates, he’s not even irritated.

He’s turned on.

Gods, what the hell is happening right now? This asshole has spent the last three days making me feel like the world's shittiest Packmate because of how I feel about the Omega. I’ve spent every single waking second keeping my side of the Bond locked down—something he knows makes my fucking skin itch—just so he and Caelan can’t feel the lust and obsession and need raging through my veins.

I’ve been waging war with my Pack on two fronts. Can’t let Dax know how bad I want her or how much guilt I’m drowning in; otherwise he’ll call me a traitor. Can’t let Caelan know how bad I want his Mate.

Also, because he’ll probably actually kill me.

And now… now… Daxen is the one hiding shit!

He turns and retakes his seat, propping his ankle on his knee, looking anywhere but at Idril. The Omega’s still strung tight and shaking. Her lower lip wobbles and she bites down on it—hard—and stays steady.

There’s a barely audible vibrating growl climbing up Caelan’s chest. I wonder if he’s pissed because of the way Dax spoke to his Mate, or because he clearly wants Idril just as bad as we do.

When Dax hears the sound, he straightens and shrugs his shoulders like his skin is too tight. “So moving forward, what's the plan of action? Anyone have any ideas?”

Soren leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees and furrows his brow in feigned confusion. “Wait, you actually want suggestions from the rest of us?” Widening his eyes, he places a hand on his chest, adding, “I’m sorry. Here I was thinking you had all the answers.”