Cassidy
The drive to Opus feels a little strange today.
I sit in the back of Evander’s car with Isaac beside me, my laptop tucked against my chest more out of habit than necessity. His long legs take up most of the footwell beside mine.
Evander hums along to something on the radio as he drives, one hand loose on the steering wheel.
The morning light catches the faint scars across his knuckles, while his thick brown hair is still slightly mussed from where I ran my fingers through it before we left.
Isaac catches me watching him in the rearview mirror and nudges me, one perfectly styled lock of dark hair falling loose over his forehead.
“What’s wrong with Ev’s cheerful disposition?” he asks.
I laugh, shaking my head. “Nothing. I’m amused by it. I never thought he’d be such a morning person.”
“I heard that,” Evander says, giving me a feigned shocked look through the mirror.
“You were meant to,” I tease, and he smirks.
“Seems someone has some sass this morning, huh?” Evander replies. “I’m surprised there wasn’t a bigger complaint about how late we’re getting in.”
I pout, huffing a sigh.
“You clearly missed her debate with Harlan over that last night,” Isaac says with a laugh.
“It’s still not funny,” I say, sticking my tongue out at the cheeky beta.
Evander doesn’t laugh, but the flash of amusement through our bond is enough.
“You’re both so mean to me,” I mutter, but I can’t help my smile.
Two weeks ago, I’d have spent this journey rehearsing every possible thing that could go wrong. Monitoring my words, my smiles, my panic so that I appeared normal.
I’d have worried about being late. About climbing out of Evander’s car where everyone could see.
About whether walking in beside these men would make people talk.
About whether my scent was too strong.
About whether I’d smiled too much. Or enough.
I’d have panicked about... well, everything.
My brain never really needed a reason to catastrophise. It just needed silence.
Instead, I’m happy.
The anxiety is still there. I don’t think it’ll ever disappear completely.
But it doesn’t drown everything else anymore, not when I can feel Evander’s presence anchoring me.
Not when I’m sitting next to Isaac, whose steady scent takes the sharpest edges off my panic.
I’m listening to Evander and Isaac argue over sandwiches like it’s somehow the most important conversation in the world.
And I don’t mind. I don’t feel like I need to perform or worry that I’m not contributing enough.
It’s just peaceful.
It’s like being at home—being with my pack feels like everything is right in the world.
Silas
You nearly there?
Warmth blooms low in my chest before I can stop it. Four men whose messages just make me smile.
Four men who care for me.
With their own unique smiles.
Evander’s are loud and impossible to ignore. Isaac’s make me feel understood before I’ve even come to a conclusion myself.
Harlan’s still surprise me, like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And Silas… Silas always manages to make me feel steadier.
I chew the inside of my cheek before typing.
Cassidy
Nearly.
Cassidy
Evander’s taking some long cut to avoid the traffic.
Silas
I’m not going to lie, I’ve never heard of a long cut.
I giggle, and ignore Evander’s curious glance in the mirror as I key out my reply.
Cassidy
Neither had I before today.
I stare at my phone’s keyboard, at the blinking cursor. I’m too hesitant to send this message, but I know it’s needed.
Maybe he’ll tell me not to apologise. Maybe he’ll admit he’s upset with me.
Maybe—no.
Stop it, Cassie.
It’s one message. I can survive one message.
Before I can overthink myself out of it, I send the apology I know he deserves to hear.
Cassidy
I’m sorry I was too cowardly to come to work with all of you this morning.
The reply comes almost immediately, and I’m relieved I don’t have to panic for his response.
Silas
No apologies are needed, little moon. This goes at your pace.
Silas
And honestly, we’re surprised you were comfortable coming to work with any of us.
Another message appears before I can answer.
Silas
You’re the bravest woman I know.
My throat tightens, and I feel a sting at the edge of my eyes.
Brave.
How am I brave? Silas knows me, he’s seen how cowardly I am, how much indecision lives inside me.
And yet, he said it anyway.
Trust him, Cassie.
Silas has this frustrating way of making me question everything awful I think about myself.
Making me wonder if my brain’s lying to me again.
I read the message twice before locking my phone, deciding a reply in person is probably best.
“Tell me that’s not Harlan already issuing demands,” Isaac says.
I laugh and shake my head. “No, just Si checking in.”
“Oh, I should’ve guessed that,” Isaac says with a grin. “You’ve got your smiling-at-your-phone face on.”
I gasp. “I don’t have one of those.”
Affection ripples through the bond before Evander even speaks.
It brushes against my own emotions so naturally now that I almost don’t notice it until I realise I’m smiling wider.
“You absolutely do,” Evander says, his forest green eyes crinkling in the mirror as he sounds entirely too pleased with himself. “It’s extremely cute.”
I laugh, lacing my fingers through Isaac’s, instinctively seeking the steady warmth of his hand. “What’s your day looking like today?”
“A little hectic, but it’ll let us finish up in Fashion soon,” Isaac says.
The car slows as the familiar Opus building comes into view, all gleaming glass and polished steel catching the morning sunlight. Employees stream towards the entrance in dark coats and office clothes, their reflections sliding across the windows.
My stomach flutters with nerves. It’s the first day I’ve come into work with them, and it’s the first working day after Evander and I have bonded.
My fingers tighten against Isaac’s, but he doesn’t ask why. He simply turns his hand over and runs his thumb across my knuckles, slow and absent-minded, like he’s smoothing the panic out of me one stroke at a time.
It works. The tightness in my chest eases.
“Should I be worried my job is going to disappear?” My words might be more strained than usual, but at least I’ve got a change of topic.
Evander smirks at me as we join the queue to enter the parking lot. “It’s the first line in our report, actually.”
I scoff, and he winks.
“No, to be fair, the interns are actually doing a decent job. We’re not here to make cuts for the sake of making cuts, you know,” Evander says.
“Depends who you ask, bro,” Isaac counters. “I’ve heard that’s exactly what we do.”
“Me, too,” I add with a grin at my alpha. “But I know that’s not true.”
“You ready for today, daisy?” Evander asks.
I take a slow breath and nod. He smiles softly, reaching out his window to beep into the car park, and I take another breath.
It’ll be fine. I know it will.
Inside me, Evander’s contentment hums quietly through the bond. Isaac’s thumb is still tracing lazy circles across the back of my hand.
For the first time in a very long time, I think my anxiety might actually lose this argument.
Evander turns into the space marked O. Remington, right beside the glass executive entrance, and this time, my panic is entirely justified.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, twisting towards him so quickly that the seat belt catches against my chest.
He puts the car into park, and then shuts the engine off.
He actually parks.
In our boss’s parking spot.
Isaac merely rolls his eyes as he reaches across me, pressing the release on my belt before unclipping his own.
His casual acceptance makes everything worse. Evander bursts into laughter at my horror.
“It’s a fun little game we have, daisy, don’t worry,” he says brightly.
I am worrying, though. Enough for all three of us, apparently.
“What kind of game?” I ask, but Evander’s already climbing out of the car.
He circles the bonnet and opens my door, offering me his hand as though he hasn’t just committed what feels like a sackable offence.
At least for me, anyway.
I stare at his hand then look again at the name on the sign in front of the car before looking at him again.
His grin only widens. Traitorous amusement flickers through the bond, bright and entirely unapologetic.
“You’re enjoying this,” I accuse.
“Immensely.”
I place my hand in his because refusing to leave the car will probably draw even more attention. His larger fingers close around mine as he helps me onto the tarmac.
As I shift my laptop against my chest, Isaac rounds the back of the car and plucks it from my arms. He takes my bag, too, settling the strap over his shoulder before I can protest.
“I can carry those,” I say softly.
“I know.” He winks at me. “But carrying my mate’s things is one of the perks of our relationship. Don’t steal that from me.”
Oh.
Evander pulls me against his side the moment my feet touch the ground. His palm settles firmly over my waist, his scent wrapping around me as he brushes a kiss against my temple before closing the door behind me.
His car locks with a cheerful beep, and I realise as they tug me away from the car that they’re really going to park here.
In our boss’s parking spot.
I think I might be sick.
“Morning, CeCe,” Sterling calls, and I falter mid-step.
No. Absolutely not.
I turn slowly and find my cousin standing beside another car, looking far too pleased to see me. Sterling is immaculate as always, dark hair perfectly styled, and his charcoal suit fitted neatly across his athletic frame.
And he’s not alone.
He’s with Paxton Sinclair, another member of his pack and the CEO of Opus, both of them standing beside a sleek black car that could probably withstand a crash with a tank.
Paxton is immaculate in a dark suit, the dark chestnut wave of his hair catching the sun, one hand resting casually in his trouser pocket. A gold family crest gleams at his cuff when he moves.
“What am I? Chopped fucking liver?” Evander asks. He sounds offended, but the smirk pulling at his mouth ruins the effect.
Sterling flips him off, his signet ring flashing on his right hand as he and Paxton cross the car park towards us.
My breathing turns shallow.