37. Dean
CHAPTER 37
Dean
Nerves twist in my stomach as I stand where Mason told me to meet him. My fingers drum against the edge of the bar, trying to steady myself. But when the door swings open and Mason walks in, Lakelyn and Chad right behind him, my heart kicks into overdrive, thudding hard in my chest.
Seeing them together— the three of them —makes my pulse race in a way I can’t control.
My pack. Or soon-to-be pack.
Fuck. I might be sick.
I want this. I want this so fucking bad it’s all I can think about, but there’s a part of me that’s scared shitless for what’s coming. What if Chad laughs in my face? What if it’s all been a game to him this whole time? There are so many “what ifs” I could write a damn book with them.
But as soon as Chad’s gaze locks onto mine from across the bar, my brain short-circuits. I can’t read the look on his face, and it drives me crazy. He leans down, says something to Lakelyn, then pulls her in closer, his arm tight around her waist. Her eyes find mine, too, and I can feel the heaviness of her attention even from here.
Everything inside me stills, tension tightening my chest as I wait for the moment to crash over me.
Mason moves first, his broad shoulders cutting through the crowd with ease, his presence alone making space around him. He’s focused, eyes locked on me like he’s been waiting for this moment. Behind him, Lakelyn follows closely, tucked under Chad’s arm, her small frame leaning into his as if they belong that way. And Chad… Chad’s walking with that cocky confidence he always has, the kind that makes it seem like he’s in control of everything. But his eyes stay glued to mine, unwavering, and I swear there’s something more behind them, something I can’t quite put my finger on.
I shift in my seat, suddenly aware of how out of place I feel sitting at this bar, like I’m some kind of outsider waiting for permission to join the circle. But Mason’s stride doesn’t falter as he reaches me, his hand clapping down on my shoulder like he’s been doing it for years—not like this is the first time we’re stepping into something unknown together.
“Dean,” he says, voice casual but with that underlying weight that tells me this is more than just a greeting. “Glad you made it.”
I force a nod, my throat tightening. “Yeah. Wouldn’t miss it.”
Chad’s pouty smile is the next thing I see as he and Lakelyn reach us. His gaze flicks between me and Mason, and he raises an eyebrow. “You look like you’re about to puke,” he says, blunt as ever, his tone cutting through the tension like a knife. “You okay, or do we need to get you a bucket? Too much to drink?” His eyes go to my untouched beer, and he raises his eyebrows.
The comment is so Chad that I can’t help but huff out a laugh, even if my nerves are still rattling inside. “I’m fine.”
Lakelyn reaches out, touching my arm gently, her warmth grounding me. “Are you okay? You do look a little sick,” she says, her voice soft and full of concern.
I swallow hard, glancing between the three of them—Mason, Lakelyn, and Chad—my soon-to-be pack if I don’t screw this up. The tight knot of anxiety in my chest loosens a little, but the tension doesn’t fully leave.
Then I catch a glimpse of the marks on Chad’s neck, subtle but undeniable. A low growl bubbles up in my throat before I can stop it. My body tenses, the possessiveness rising to the surface. Chad’s eyebrow quirks up, and the smirk that follows isn’t helping. It’s cocky, taunting, like he’s daring me to say something, to challenge him.
The need to claim him, to prove my place, stirs in my chest, but I grit my teeth and hold back. If I wasn’t in this bar, surrounded by scent blockers, I’d probably lose my damn mind. I can’t smell them right now, and I’m thankful for that. If their scent was filling my senses—intoxicating and undeniable—it’d push me over the edge.
“I would say fancy meeting you here, but it sounds like my alpha set this up,” Chad says, shoving the fact that he accepted Mason as his alpha in my face.
A dark pit forms in my stomach at those words. My inner alpha bristles, hating the sound of him calling someone else his alpha . Even if it’s true. My teeth ache to sink into his flesh right over Mason’s mark just to prove to Chad that he can’t toss me out like yesterday’s trash.
I watch motionless as he closes the distance between him and Mason, then nuzzles into his neck like a needy omega. Mason’s arms wrap around him as if he’s always done it, holding him tight, accepting his closeness.
Maybe if I could have done that, to begin with, I wouldn’t be standing here watching someone else have what I’ve always wanted.
“Lake, Chad,” Mason begins, his hands sliding up Chad’s back as he holds him close. “I asked Dean to meet us because we’re a pack—all four of us. A scent-bound pack.”
The moment hangs in the air, and I feel time slow to a crawl. The pounding music fades into the background, and my breaths become shallow as if the air around me has thickened. Lakelyn shifts on her heels, her wide eyes darting to me, her pretty pink lips parting in a soft ‘o’ of surprise. Meanwhile, Chad goes completely still in Mason’s arms, his gaze locked on the ground as a tremor runs through his body.
He knows.
Or maybe he’s always known the truth. The silence that falls between us is heavy, and I can sense his reluctance to meet my eyes. Would he have just kept pretending? Continued to reject this scent match that’s been hanging over us? It’s a question that lingers, gnawing at me. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been doing it for years.
Lakelyn's voice breaks the suffocating tension. “Scent-bound?” She sounds both confused and desperate. “How do you know?”
Mason’s voice is steady, grounded. “Because when I found you two at the shop, you both smelled like Dean. It was overpowering, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It called to something inside me. I didn’t just want the two of you—I wanted Dean too. Something primal woke up in me.”
Lakelyn’s brows knit, her voice tinged with disbelief, but there’s something else beneath it. “But scent-bound packs… that’s something from fairytales.”
Hope. That’s what I see flickering in her eyes—soft, fragile hope.
“So we aren’t soulmates,” Mason says, his voice low but sure. “But I’m pretty damn certain you and Chad are exactly that.”
Chad visibly inhales, his chest rising and falling in a way that tells me he’s trying to steady himself. Then, just as quickly, he pulls away from Mason, slipping out of his arms with that same cocky shrug and pouty smile that he always uses to mask whatever’s really going on in his head.
“Alright, cool,” he says, his voice light, almost too casual. “Soulmates, scent-bound packs, all that fairytale nonsense. What’s next, we hold hands and sing kumbaya?”
I can see the cracks in his mask, though. It’s there in the way his lips twitch and the tension in his shoulders. He’s doing what he always does—deflecting, running from the truth instead of facing it head-on.
“Don’t,” I say, stepping forward before I even realize I’m moving. “Don’t do that thing where you pretend none of this matters. You can’t just brush it off like you always do. Not this time.”
His eyes meet mine for a split second before flicking away, like everything is too much to face. But I keep pushing, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’ve been running from this for years. From me. From this connection. And I’m done letting you.”
Chad opens his mouth, probably to toss another snarky comment my way, but nothing comes out. For once, he’s speechless. I don’t miss the flash of fear in his eyes—the vulnerability he always tries so hard to hide.
“Dean…” Lakelyn’s voice is soft, a quiet plea for me to ease up, but I’m not stopping. Not now.
“You’re scared,” I continue, my voice rougher than I intended, but I can’t help it. “I get it. But you don’t get to act like this doesn’t exist. Not when it’s staring us all in the face.”
Chad lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. He looks around at the other people sitting at the bar. “You think I’m scared? I’ve had people telling me who I’m supposed to be, what I’m supposed to feel, and how I’m supposed to act my entire life. I don’t need you adding to that list.”
The tension is suffocating now. Chad’s retreating into himself, slipping back into his well-worn pattern of avoidance, and I can feel it happening. His walls are going up, brick by brick, and I know what’s coming next.
“Chad, don’t,” Mason says, stepping forward as if he can sense what’s about to happen, but it’s too late.
“Forget it,” Chad mutters, his eyes darting between the three of us, too much emotion flickering in them to sort out. “This was a mistake.”
Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and bolts, disappearing through the bar’s back door before any of us can react.
“Chad!” Lakelyn calls after him, but he’s already gone. She doesn’t hesitate, her feet moving before her mind can catch up, and she rushes after him, leaving me and Mason standing there in the wreckage of what just happened.
I clench my fists at my sides, everything settling in my chest like a stone. The truth was finally out there, and Chad did what Chad always does—runs.
I watch Lakelyn dart through the back door after Chad, her desperation echoing in the empty space he’s left behind. My body tenses, fists still clenched at my sides as I struggle to shake off the mess of emotions swirling inside me.
This wasn’t the first time Chad ran. Hell, it’s all he’s ever done when things get complicated. He bolts, leaving wreckage in his wake, like none of it matters. But this… this time, I can’t just let it go.
Memories hit me like a gut punch—the last time I watched Chad disappear like this, years ago. Back then, I thought it was over between us for good, that we were too different, too messy to ever work. But it wasn’t just about us.
I can still picture the night it happened, as clearly as if it were yesterday.
I’d waited. I had no choice. My dad had forbidden me from seeking Chad out after pulling me away from him during his heat, hissing in my ear about how I needed to keep my head on straight, how messing with someone like Chad was a disaster waiting to happen. His words lingered, but so did the memory of Chad in my arms, the feel of him against me, his sweet and tangy scent clinging to my skin like a phantom.
So I waited. I spent every waking moment at the club, hoping he’d show up, trying to shove the desperation down. It was pathetic, probably, but I didn’t care. I needed to see him. To figure out what the hell that kiss had meant, if anything.
And then, like I’d summoned him just by thinking about him, he strolled in.
Chad moved like life was one big game, like nothing could touch him. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his hair perfectly styled—too perfectly. He was wearing a crisp polo shirt, and his slacks were so tailored they looked painted on. He had this practiced, pouty smile on his lips, like a shield. But the second his eyes landed on me, I saw it—just the tiniest crack in his armor. A flicker of something real, something raw.
It was enough.
I pushed off the bar and walked straight toward him, not caring how it looked. My father’s warning echoed in the back of my mind, reminding me of my place. ‘The help never ends up with the clientele.’ He owned the place, sure, but we were still considered the help. We weren’t meant to mix with guys like Chad—the rich ones, the untouchables. But I’d stopped caring about that a long time ago.
He was my friend. Hopefully more than a friend now.
I reached him, and for a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other. His eyes flicked away, scanning the room like he was looking for an escape route, like I was the last person he wanted to see.
"Chad," I said, my voice low, steady, even though my heart was pounding in my chest. "We need to talk."
He shrugged, the nonchalant mask slipping back into place. "What about?"
I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to grab him, to shake him, to make him drop the act. "You know what about. Your heat—what happened between us. We can’t just pretend like it didn’t ? —"
"I’m not talking about that." His voice was cool, clipped, as if the subject wasn’t even worth acknowledging. He didn’t even look at me, just kept his gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder.
I took a step closer, lowering my voice. "You felt it. I know you did."
He laughed, but it was hollow, forced. "It’s just biology messing with our heads." His eyes finally flicked back to mine, but they were hard, distant. "You know as well as I do that none of this is real."
I stared at him, trying to process the words, but they didn’t match the Chad I’d held in my arms just days ago. The Chad who had kissed me like he needed me to breathe.
"You don’t believe that," I said quietly, my voice edged with frustration. "I know you don’t."
He shrugged again, and this time, he met my eyes full-on, but there was something cold in them now. "Believe what you want, Dean. But I’m fine. I don’t need some alpha swooping in and trying to save me because we got tangled up in a moment. It was just a heat. It’s over."
I felt my stomach drop, but I refused to back down. "That’s bullshit, Chad, and you know it."
"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his voice growing even more detached. "I think maybe you’re reading too much into it. I was in heat. You were just… there. No need to play knight and shining alpha."
I recoiled, the sting of his words sharper than I’d expected. "So that’s it? I was just a convenient body for you? Nothing else?"
He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "I didn’t say that. I just don’t want to ? —"
“You good?” Mason’s voice breaks through my memories like a lifeline.
I shake my head, trying to shake off the past. “Yeah.”
“That definitely didn’t go as planned,” he says, a hint of exasperation coloring his tone.
“No kidding,” I reply, rubbing my temples as if that could ease the tension pooling there. I can still feel the echo of Chad's words, the way he dismissed everything between us as if it had never meant a thing.
Mason glances back toward the door Chad exited, his expression shifting to one of concern. “We need to follow him. He can’t keep running from this.”
“Where do you think he went?” I ask, a mix of worry and frustration tightening in my chest.
“I don’t know, but we can find him; Blue Ridge isn’t that big.”