Isaac #2
“Hi, Cassie,” I murmur, crouching down next to her nest. I stay far enough back that I shouldn’t startle her more than she already is but close enough that she’ll know someone’s here with her. “I’m Isaac. We met on Friday, right?”
She nods carefully, her eyes filling with tears, as she tries to scurry out of her nest. Her legs catch on something—a blanket, maybe, but I can’t see—and she stumbles.
“I’m sorry, sir, I—”
“I’m not your boss. I’m not here to lecture you,” I say, keeping with the soft and gentle tone. “I was coming to deliver a gift from Evander.” I gesture to the flowers, and she gasps. “As you can probably tell, he’s majorly subtle.”
Her eyes widen, and she instinctively tucks herself further into her nest like she’s trying to disappear into it. The scent of her distress spikes, making my throat tighten.
Fuck.
This isn’t an omega who needs flowers or an apology.
This is someone trying to break quietly enough that nobody notices.
I exhale slowly through my nose, forcing down every protective instinct currently screaming at me to fix this.
That’s a side effect of spending all my time with Evander—adopting some of his alpha behaviour.
However, Cassie clearly has enough people trying to manage her already.
Now is not the time to make her feel cornered again.
I sit down cross-legged on the floor, keeping the desk between us as a little buffer—even though every molecule of my body wants to go to her.
Instead, I glance around the office properly for the first time. Fabrics covering every available surface. A half-empty mug of cold tea. A laptop open beside what looks like three drafts of the same document, each one marked up differently.
And atop the bin in the corner of the room is a packet of tissues. Completely empty.
Fucking hell.
If it wouldn’t be frowned upon, I’d kill Evander for this.
“Right,” I say quietly, pushing myself back to my feet. “Well, first of all, these flowers are horrifying.”
Cassie blinks in surprise. Her adorable red-nose and cute little cheeks are smushed together as she peers over at me. She’s half-hidden inside her nest, and I don’t want to intrude.
But if I can redirect her upset, I might be able to help her. It always worked with my brother, before—well, that doesn’t matter now.
“He means well, but I think even the florist would’ve judged him,” I say teasingly. I gesture towards the arrangement and laugh. “I’m sorry to admit he forced me to bring these. He called it an apology bouquet. I personally feel like it’s botanical warfare.”
A tiny sound leaves her throat, fragile enough that I almost miss it. Not quite a laugh but close enough that something in my chest finally loosens.
I don’t know who did this to her—who hurt her, who left her in this state.
But the moment I find whoever did this to her, they’ll regret it.
“Evander picked the daisies himself, by the way,” I say, smiling at her. “It’s the only flower he remembers the meaning of.”
Her eyes flick uncertainly towards the flowers, and her scent thickens in curiosity.
“He thinks they symbolise soulmates,” I explain.
“When he was, like, ten, he decided he’d get them for his mate and made a daisy chain he was going to give her.
Obviously, they died… quite quickly, and a few days later, he panicked and thought it meant his mate was dead.
I had to explain that, no, this was not fate, and that he just doesn’t understand the cycle of life. ”
That does it. A startled laugh escapes her before she can stop it, and she immediately covers her mouth like she’s done something wrong.
“There you are,” I murmur before I can help myself. “Much better.”
Her expression crumples slightly, like the softness in my voice caught her off guard.
Fuck. Careful, Isaac.
If she’s not used to being handled gently…
Her hand slowly lowers from her mouth, embarrassment turning the sweetness of her scent almost painfully sharp.
“Sorry,” she blurts immediately.
And there it is. Another kindred soul who thinks apologising for existing is the safest option.
Something in my chest twists hard enough to make breathing uncomfortable.
“For what?” I ask lightly.
Cassie gestures vaguely between us, still half-hidden in her nest. “For… this. I didn’t mean for you to walk in on…” Her voice trails off as she glances towards the empty tissue packet in visible humiliation.
Crying.
Breaking down.
Existing, apparently.
“It’s not exactly the worst thing I’ve walked in on at this company,” I tell her dryly. “One time, Evander and I walked in on an intern who was trying to microwave fish in the executive kitchen.”
Her horrified expression appears instantly. “No.”
“Yep. The whole floor smelled like death for three days, and Evander tried to negotiate hazardous pay.” I shake my head solemnly. “HR almost took him out back and shot him.”
Another tiny laugh escapes her. Better.
Much better.
“You don’t have to apologise for being upset, Cassie,” I say more quietly this time. “Especially not to me. I invaded your space, and I’m not here to judge.”
Her fingers curl possessively into the blanket pooled around her lap, instinctively clutching at the comfort of her nest.
Something shifts in her scent then—the sharp distress softening at its edges, replaced by something more complicated and harder to name.
Something that makes my chest ache with the sudden need to protect her from everything.
“I’m being ridiculous,” she whispers.
“No,” I say immediately. “You’re not being ridiculous at all.”
The force behind the word surprises even me. I didn’t mean to sound so intense, but something about Cassie’s self-deprecation strikes a chord deep within me.
She’s here apologising for having an emotional reaction in her own fucking office.
“You don’t have to apologise for crying, Cassie,” I say gently, leaning back against the edge of her desk instead of crowding her space. “And before you panic, I’m not here on behalf of HR, Opus, or any of the emotionally constipated alphas running round this place.”
A soft giggle escapes her.
“I came to drop off flowers and to see how you were doing,” I continue. “From the looks of things, you’ve had a rough few days.”
She shakes her head quickly. “No, it’s been… no, honestly, I’ve…” She trails off both times, trying to find the right words.
Or the right lie.
“You don’t need to tell me anything,” I say softly. I offer her a soft smile and wish I could reach out for her.
Pull her into my arms. Comfort her. Hold her together until she stopped looking like she was about to fall apart.
I don’t have the grounding weight of alpha pheromones, which, in this instance, would probably be a blessing. But I also covered up my scent before coming here. I chose to do it so she never had to scent Evander… but I think I did it on the hunch that she was mine, too.
And some instinctive part of me already knows she is.
My mate.
My scent match.
I pull myself out of that thought. She’s not mine, not really.
Not yet.
Right now, she doesn’t need another person trying to claim her.
Telling her will only add to her burden—only make her feel more trapped.
I need to be patient. Make a plan. Carry it through.
And then she can hopefully be mine, too.
First step—getting her to forgive Evander.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask softly. “A fresh mug of tea?”
She shakes her head, creeping to the edge of her nest. Now she’s more in the room with me than trying to hide from it. I can’t smell embarrassment any longer, and I hope that stays the case.
“I’m okay. Would you like one?” she asks in return, and I frown before shaking my head. “Sorry. I’m just… I don’t want to whine to you about your, um… sorry, what are you and Van?”
Van. She called him Van!
“What are Van and I?” I ask.
Her cheeks pink slightly at the nickname, and the scent around her sweetens instantly. Satisfaction curls warmly through my chest before I can stop it.
Fuck, she’s adorable.
So fucking sweet and gentle.
Completely perfect.
“We’ve been best friends since we were kids,” I say easily, rescuing her from the embarrassment before she can drown in it. “He’s been ruining my peace ever since, unfortunately.”
Cassie huffs out another tiny laugh, softer this time, and pulls the blanket tighter around herself.
“He doesn’t seem peaceful,” she admits quietly.
“That’s because he isn’t.” I grin, my natural affection for him hopefully swaying her to see him as more than his mistake. “Evander’s natural state is one inconvenience away from corporate homicide. He’s got his positives, of course. He’s loyal, protective, generous—”
“Like with the flowers?” she asks, looking at the huge bouquet on her desk.
“Exactly like with the flowers,” I confirm, watching her expression soften slightly. “He means well, even when he’s being an idiot.”
The tension in her shoulders is slowly easing, her breathing evening out bit by bit in my presence. The scent of her distress is softening and being replaced by… curiosity, maybe.
She stands up, and I notice for the first time how tiny she is. When we ran into her last week, she was in heels, which hid how truly small she is.
She practically floats to her desk and sniffs the bouquet. There’s a heavy expression on her face, one I don’t understand as she takes in the array.
“Cruel,” she whispers, and I freeze. Is she referring to the flowers here?
To Evander?
To me?
“Evander?” I ask after a moment.
She turns, cocking an eyebrow my way. “Hm?”
“Were you saying that Evander’s cruel? Because he really isn’t. Overbearing? Absolutely. Intense? Horrifyingly so. But not cruel.”
Cassie’s fingers tap against the desk, her eyes losing some focus as she continues to look at the flowers. Her scent remains thick and everywhere, wrapping around me so completely that it’s hard to think clearly.
But it doesn’t betray her emotions. Sadly.
“He didn’t need to go to this effort. I know he didn’t mean to upset me,” she says. “I know he was trying to help.”
“But it still hurt,” I finish for her, and she flinches.