Silas
By the time I get Cassidy to the car, my restraint is hanging by a thread.
She’s barely protested, and since we left the pub, there’s been no resistance, only trust, her soft scent curling towards me like she doesn’t even realise she’s doing it.
Her scent is sweet, soft, and tinged with exhaustion, leaking from her glands in tired little waves, and she’s looking at me like I’ve hung the fucking moon.
How am I meant to control myself when she’s trusting me without a single complaint?
The urge to take her home, show her the nesting room, give her everything is hard to ignore. It’s burrowing deep under my skin like an itch I can’t scratch.
Cassidy Hargrove, who apologises for breathing too loudly, who makes herself small before anyone can ask it of her, who tries to smile through every wound if it means someone else stays comfortable, lets me guide her into the back of my town car without a single protest.
“Thank you,” she murmurs when I hold the back door open for her.
She moves as if to slide along, but I growl low, the sound rumbling out before I can stop it. She freezes, but before I can apologise, she just gives me a soft smile like she knows I’m trying.
She’s fucking perfect.
I crouch over her and place her belongings in the centre seat. Then, I pull her belt across her chest and click it into place properly. Only once she’s secure do I round the car and get into the back with her.
Jeff lowers the partition and raises a brow at me through the rear-view mirror.
He’s an older alpha I request more often than not when I need a car because he’s discreet, mated, and doesn’t try to talk to me.
He’s perfect for tonight.
Cassie huddles over herself, clutching onto her things, her delicate wrists tucked beneath the blanket as she avoids looking my way.
Fuck.
I scared her.
The car is one of the larger ones their company has. Black exterior, tinted windows, leather seats, soundproofing worth every obscene penny, and enough space in the back that most people use it to pretend they’re more important than they are.
Tonight, it feels too small.
Not physically. But with Cassidy’s scent blooming in the sealed space of the car, I can’t escape.
Not that I’d want to.
Strawberry cream.
Vanilla musk.
Exhaustion.
Humiliation.
The faint acidic edge of panic clinging to her glands, buried beneath the remnants of that rancid synthetic peach from the woman who had her hand wrapped around Cassidy’s wrist like a claim she had no right to make.
I buckle myself in, and Cassidy flinches, her scent spiking sharply enough to scrape down my throat.
I hate myself immediately.
Careful, Silas.
I settle into the seat beside her, keeping a deliberate stretch of space between us. Enough that she won’t feel crowded. Enough that she can breathe. Enough that I can pretend my body isn’t calculating every inch of it.
“Can you take us to Cassidy’s place first, please, Jeff?” I say, and he meets my eyes in question.
I nod, and he raises the partition. I should probably be arrested for breaching HR to access Cassie’s information, but honestly, I was just saving time.
She’d have given me her address at some point, and now I’ve saved her the trouble.
Her spring green eyes flick to mine. “You know where I live?”
I smirk at her, hoping to put her at ease. “I remember the important information.”
Rather than smiling back, she frowns. “But where did you get it in the first place?”
“I read your résumé, little moon,” I offer.
It’s not a lie. I did read it. In the file I had absolutely no business reading.
Oh, well.
If they didn’t want me to read it, they should’ve had it protected better.
Jeff’s eyes meet mine briefly in the rear-view mirror.
The city disappears into muted shapes beyond the tinted glass. Streetlights smear gold across the windows. Rain catches on the glass in thin, silver lines, blurring traffic into movement and colour.
I reach into the side compartment and pull out the spare blanket Jeff keeps folded for when he’s bringing home exhausted models.
Typically, they’re omegas, and he’s one of the best at caring for them.
I offer it to her, and her brows scrunch together as she tentatively reaches for it, her pale pink nails catching my attention.
“Is it yours?” she whispers, glancing at the partition carefully.
“It’s soundproofed, little moonlight,” I say. “Jeff is one of the drivers we employ, and he often handles models or some of the less… amazing execs.”
She giggles before a large yawn overtakes her.
Fuck, she’s wrecked.
“You can use this,” I say, handing it to her more insistently.
She nods and takes it, wrapping it around herself until her petite frame nearly disappears. The blanket is much larger than she is, draping on the floor around her muddy shoes.
I want to ask her about it, but I don’t. Pushing her tonight won’t do me any good.
Between Harlan’s fuck-up, Isaac’s lies, and Evander’s cowardice, our mate has enough to handle right now.
I’m the only one who hasn’t hurt her yet. The only one she can still rely on.
Even if I haven’t shared the truth with her, either.
“You don’t have to talk,” I say when she bites her lip, eyeing me in her peripheral vision. “You don’t have to be anything right now.”
Her lashes flutter, her mouth gaping open ever so slightly.
She looks at me then, properly, and the sight of her nearly undoes me.
Her cheeks are flushed from the cold and the pub’s heat. Her honey-brown hair has started to fall loose around her heart-shaped face. Her soft pink lips are slightly parted, breath still uneven, eyes too bright in the low light.
Soft.
Sweet.
Mine.
No. Not mine.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever, if I keep choosing my stupid brother over her.
I’m losing my fucking mind with every day that passes, and I have to hide from the truth. If I keep going like this, there’s going to be nothing left.
Cassidy swallows, then tugs the blanket tighter around herself.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I lean back against the seat, fingers curling against my thigh instead of around her wrist like I want to, instead of pressing my mouth to the gland beneath her jaw until she smells like me.
I want to erase that beta’s scent from her. Smother it with my own until every gland on her body remembers me instead.
“You’re welcome.”
Another silence stretches between us. It’s not awkward, but I desperately wish for her to say something.
I watch the city slide past outside her window and force myself to breathe slowly.
Tonight, she needs quiet. She needs to get home, curl into her nest, and be safe without having to earn the right to be looked after.
So, I give her that.
Even if it’s killing me being this close to her and unable to do a single fucking thing.
I sit beside her in the dark, the divider raised, the city moving around us, and I do the one thing every instinct in me is screaming against.
I wait.
The silence lasts longer than most people would tolerate, but eventually, Cassie breaks first.
Most people rush to fill quiet because they mistake it for discomfort.
It isn’t.
Not always.
Sometimes silence is just exhaustion. And, fuck, if that isn’t Cassidy right now.
She fidgets beneath the blanket, watching the rain race down the glass, before finally sighing.
“I think I’m tired of being useless.”
The words are so quiet I nearly miss them. I turn my head towards her and resist the urge to undo my belt and move to her side.
To cradle her in my arms, rumble against her, and tell her how good a girl she is.
How perfect an omega.
How fucking useful she actually is.
But I know she won’t believe it. Not right now.
“I’m tired,” she mumbles, resting her head on the back of the chair. “How are you here?”
“How are you here?” I counter, and she giggles.
I know it’s from exhaustion, but, fuck, is it better than her tears.
“I went on a goat walk, and we went for… dinner, and ran into Gemma and all those other people, and it ruined my night,” she says through another yawn.
“Oh, little moon,” I murmur, turning to face her properly. “Want me to fire her?”
She gasps, looking at me in alarm. “No! I was just—no, Si, no.”
My own nickname!
“I was just offering,” I say. “You’ve been hiding from me.”
“No,” she lies, scrunching up her nose.
“You’re not a great liar, moonlight.”
She sticks her tongue out, and I have to bite back a smile.
Fuck, she’s cute when she’s tired.
“Fine. I was maybe hiding,” she says, biting her lip. “But not only from you.”
“No, I didn’t think it was.”
Her scent sweetens with intrigue, strawberry cream warming beneath the vanilla musk. “You didn’t?”
“Harlan is my brother,” I offer, and she grimaces, her cheeks flushing.
“Don’t do that,” I warn, and she stills. “Don’t pull away. I’m not judging you, Cassidy. I think he’s a fucking fool.”
She shakes her head. “I crossed a line and pushed something that he—”
“You did no such thing.”
I cut her off and have no regrets about it, even when her scent dims, and she huddles beneath the blanket, folding in on herself.
“My brother is a coward, and I’ve told him that for the last week,” I continue. “The two of you looked at each other. That’s it.”
She bites her lip, looking down at her lap.
“But you wanted it to be more, didn’t you?”
Cassie refuses to answer. A tear trails down her cheek, and she turns to the window so I can’t see her properly.
Fuck the winter nights with the lack of light.
“I’m a fool,” she whispers.
I don’t know if she meant to or not, but either way, I’m not ignoring it.
I can’t ignore anything where she’s concerned. Not her tears. Not her scent. Not the way every part of me reacts when she hurts.
“You’re not a fool, Cassidy,” I say. “Everyone else is.”
“Then why didn’t I know?” she whispers, and this time, I know she’s not talking about Harlan.
No, she’s thinking about Isaac. The other fucking idiot who has fucked her life up with his idiotic behaviour.
I wish I could answer truthfully.
It’s not your fault the people around you are idiots, little moon.