Harlan #2
Thin-strapped heels in pale cream, elegant and completely fucking unreasonable for someone who could barely stand yesterday.
She shouldn’t be here.
Heat crawls up my spine hard enough that my scent glands ache, and I have to force myself to breathe.
“She promised me,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
Silence falls around me immediately. I realise too late I said that aloud.
“What?” Celeste asks gently.
I tear my eyes away from Cassidy, dragging my attention back towards my family.
“Nothing.”
“Harlan,” Julianna says slowly, already suspicious.
“Work issue,” I lie instantly. “I told someone not to attend tonight because they weren’t feeling well.”
Silas makes a quiet humming sound beside me.
The smug bastard.
“And yet,” he murmurs conversationally, “you seem very emotionally invested in their attendance regardless.”
I elbow him hard enough this time that he actually grunts.
Celeste’s eyes narrow slightly as her gaze flicks between us, her scent sharpening with interest.
“Hm,” she says softly.
Immediate dread crawls down my spine, and I take a step back, brushing against Silas.
“No,” I warn.
Her brows lift innocently. “No what, darling?”
“You’re doing the thing.” I wave at her and shake my head.
“What thing?”
“The omega thing where you decide you know everything after thirty seconds.”
Silas coughs into his fist. Julianna outright smirks.
Adrian looks exhausted already.
“You are,” Silas says helpfully, “working through something.”
I glare at him so viciously he should probably burst into flames. Instead, the bastard smiles wider.
My dad moves us through the room, guiding us to our table. I don’t bother looking at the other nameplates, too angry to care.
Silas pulls out Celeste’s seat, as Adrian does the same for Julianna. I slide into my own, between my dad and Silas, and I’m grateful that we’re the first ones here.
I need a minute.
Or twenty.
Across the ballroom, completely unaware she’s currently ruining my entire evening simply by existing in the wrong room, Cassidy looks up.
Straight at me.
For one ridiculous second, I convince myself she actually looks all right.
Healthy.
Rested.
There’s colour back in her cheeks beneath the warm ballroom lighting, and whatever makeup she’s wearing softens the lingering exhaustion beneath her eyes enough that most people would never know to look.
But as she and the woman she’s with walk closer, it’s easier to notice.
Of course, I fucking notice. I don’t know how not to.
Her smile lags slightly whenever someone talks to her, like putting the mask back on takes effort.
Her posture is too controlled, like she’s holding herself upright through sheer will.
And even from across the ballroom, I can tell she’s drained.
My chest tightens, every beat turning sharp. She lied to me.
Again.
I don’t give a fuck about her lying over work. But when it concerns her health, that’s different.
She has no right to disrupt my entire fucking weekend by making me worry about her.
To make me sit here agonising over the health she refuses to take seriously.
To make me care when I’ve spent weeks trying so fucking hard not to.
As if sensing my attention, Cassidy’s gaze flicks away quickly, cheeks warming slightly before she turns back towards the person beside her.
Her mother, maybe. The resemblance is obvious once I actually look properly.
Same honey-brown hair.
Same soft features.
Same smile.
Her mother is beautiful in an understated way, elegant in deep sage-green silk with gold detailing at the wrists and throat, though unlike Cassidy, she wears her confidence comfortably.
Cassidy looks like she’s trying to disappear beside her.
Even here, where she’s already anonymous.
“Who is that?” I hear Julianna murmur.
I ignore her, and so does my brother.
Across the room, one of the event coordinators gestures politely towards our table, and Cassidy’s mum nods with a smile.
What the actual fuck?
The two women continue walking our way, their eyes locked on my fucking table.
No.
Absolutely not.
My irritation spikes instantly as Cassidy notices, too, her entire body going subtly tense beside her mother.
“She looks terrified,” Julianna observes calmly.
“She always looks terrified around Harlan,” Silas replies before I can stop him.
I turn slowly towards my brother.
“What exactly,” I ask dangerously, “have you done?”
His grin is immediate.
Smug bastard.
“As one of the foundation’s primary donors,” he says smoothly, “I made a small seating adjustment.”
“You manipulated the seating chart?” I hiss.
“I improved the seating chart,” he says with a shit-eating grin.
If we were anywhere fucking else.
Adrian sighs heavily beneath his breath. “Silas.”
“What?” He looks entirely unrepentant. “The younger girl is Cassidy Hargrove, Harlan’s newest—”
“Trainee,” I interject, and Silas’s lips quirk up.
I want to punch him.
“She’s part of your work troubles?” Celeste asks, assessing her as she approaches.
“She’s an omega,” Silas says. “And apparently, half the trainees realised she’ll work herself into the ground before telling anyone ‘no’.”
Both my dad and Julianna tut under their breath, and I scent their annoyance.
“She’s been moved to work with me so I can keep an eye on it,” I explain. “But we found out this week she has done more than double the workload in an effort to help someone else.”
My dad’s snarl makes me smile. He’s a protective alpha and would never let an omega suffer if he could help it.
“Poor lamb,” Julianna adds.
“And who is—” Celeste is cut off as Cassie and her mum approach the table properly.
I rise from my seat alongside Adrian and Silas as the women arrive.
“Oh, what lovely manners,” Cassie’s mum says with a grin.
Cassidy’s much more nervous and hangs back ever so slightly, cheeks red as she avoids our gaze.
“They were raised well,” Julianna says fondly. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Julianna Mercer, and this is my husband, Adrian, and my wife, Celeste.”
“Vivienne Hargrove,” Cassie’s mum says. “And this is my daughter, Cassidy.”
Cassie gives a tentative smile as her mum reaches to pull out her daughter’s chair.
“Our boys, Harlan and Silas,” Julianna continues. “Although, I think you all work together, right?”
Vivienne’s eyes widen, and she grins at her daughter. “Oh, I had no idea.”
Cassie nods carefully. “This is my boss, Harlan, and—”
“Oh, the taskmaster,” Vivienne says teasingly. She winks at me, and Cassie blushes furiously, embarrassment sweetening her scent so quickly it hits all of us at once.
I’m not the only one to bite back a groan as her delectable scent washes over us—Silas is just as affected.
But the more I smell it, the worse this situation becomes. Beneath the shame and the fear, her scent carries that dull exhausted edge sick omegas get when they’ve pushed too hard for too long.
Not strongly. Most people here wouldn’t notice it.
But I do.
I notice every fucking thing about her.
Like the fact that she’s not eaten properly again. That she’s not rested like she promised to do.
That she’s too stressed.
“Harlan,” Silas warns quietly enough that I’m the only one to hear it.
I drag my gaze away from Cassidy before I do something stupid.
Like demand to know why she’s here instead of resting.
Or why she’s wearing fucking heels after nearly collapsing yesterday.
Cassidy shifts awkwardly beside her mother, fingers tightening around the stem of her champagne flute as silence briefly settles across the table.
It only lasts a few seconds because another familiar scent reaches me. This one is much more intrusive than Cassie’s was—dark chocolate and coffee.
Fucking hell.
My brother is going to pay for this shit. Not now. Not tomorrow.
But eventually.
Isaac rounds the table first, nodding at Silas and me.
Relief flashes across Cassidy’s face so quickly it almost pisses me off.
The beta approaches the table beside Evander, both of them slowing the second they scent her properly.
I watch the exact moment they realise she’s ignored every instruction she was given yesterday.
Isaac masks his reaction first. Of course, he does.
His smile slips easily into place as he rounds the table.
“Sorry we’re late. Ev needed to finish threatening somebody over email.”
“I wasn’t threatening him,” Evander says calmly, pulling his own chair out.
Isaac snorts. “You attached a spreadsheet.”
“That’s a threat?” Celeste asks curiously.
“In his hands?” Silas mutters darkly. “Absolutely.”
A faint smile tugs at Cassidy’s mouth despite herself. The sight catches me off guard.
Because she still looks exhausted, but the moment she smiles… she looks so free that I forget how to be angry.
She seems softer tonight, warmer in a way. Although anything is better than the frightened looks from yesterday.
“Evander Whitmore, Isaac Reid,” Silas introduces, and there’s another round of greetings.
Noticeably, Cassie stays quiet, and now I’m not the only one trying not to stare.
Evander’s just as frustrated, and he’s nowhere near as subtle.
Which is saying something because I’m already as subtle as a bull.
The alpha in him catches the exhaustion in her scent immediately, and his eyes flick to mine. I nod, and his jaw tightens.
“Cassidy,” Isaac says gently as he reaches over the empty chair between the two of them to squeeze her hand. “You look lovely tonight.”
Her blush deepens instantly, sweetness blooming through the air. “Thank you.”
Evander says nothing, which is a dickhead move for the man claiming he wants her.
How can he sit there and not tell her she looks beautiful when she’s sitting there waiting to be found lacking?
Pathetic man.
His gaze drags over her like he’s scent-checking for weakness without getting close enough to touch her, irritation simmering beneath the surface the longer he looks.
Cassidy notices. Her shoulders pull tighter instantly, and although her mum is now in conversation with mine, she’s too concerned with the four of us to notice.
“I rested,” she blurts quietly before any of us can stop her.
The entire fucking table goes silent, her mum looking at us before focusing on her daughter.