50. Mason
CHAPTER 50
Mason
I’m practically whistling as I leave the animal shelter, the kind of good mood that feels like sunshine beaming out of my chest. Everything just clicks today—work, life, the pack. Hell, even the dogs were behaving better than usual, tails wagging and tongues lolling like they could feel my happiness.
Sliding into my truck, I grab my phone and fire off a quick text to the group chat:
Miss you all already. Be home soon—don’t have too much fun without me.
I can’t help but grin, imagining the chorus of teasing responses I’ll get from Chad, Lakelyn, and Dean. Just thinking about them makes everything better, my pack grounding me in a way I never knew I needed until now.
The drive to the shop is easy, my fingers drumming along to the beat of whatever song is playing on the radio. But as I park, my carefree feeling dies a sudden death. Landon is walking down the street, heading straight toward me, and there’s no chance he won’t see me.
Shit .
The last streaks of sunlight stretch over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and lavender as I pull up to the shop. My chest tightens at the sight of Landon walking toward the entrance. Even from a distance, the tension in his posture is unmistakable—shoulders squared, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, jaw clenched.
My stomach churns, and I almost wish I’d taken the long way around town. But there’s no avoiding him now. He’s seen me.
I cut the engine and step out, the sound of my boots on the pavement loud in the quiet evening. For a split second, I consider plastering on a grin, pretending like everything’s fine, but I know better.
“Hey, Lan,” I call, my voice casual, though the knot in my throat makes it come out rougher than I intended.
Landon stops a few paces away, his expression unreadable, though his eyes carry a weight I’m all too familiar with. He doesn’t answer right away, just looks at me like he’s trying to decide if I’m worth the energy it’ll take to talk.
“You’ve been busy,” he says finally, his tone sharp but quieter than I expected.
I shove my hands into my jacket pockets, bracing myself. He knows I went a step beyond wanting his sister to actually claiming her. “Yeah,” I reply, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Figured you’d want space. Thought that was what we agreed on.”
“Space,” he echoes, like the word leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “Sure. That’s what I needed, Mason. But now I can’t take two steps in town without someone giving me that look . You know the one. The ‘your sister found her pack, what’s wrong with you?’ look.”
Guilt twists in my gut. I should’ve known. It’s a small town—news like this doesn’t just travel fast, it spreads like wildfire.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen the way it did,” I say, my voice quieter. “You’ve got to believe me. I’d never hurt you on purpose, Lan.”
His laugh is short and humorless. “Hurt me on purpose? No, you just claimed my sister and didn’t think I might want a heads-up. You’ve known her your whole damn life, Mason. Did you even stop to think what this would mean for us?”
“Of course I did,” I snap, frustration rising despite myself. “I thought about it every damn day. But I couldn’t stop it, Landon. None of us could. You know how scent-bonds work.”
He takes a step closer, the tightness in his jaw softening just a fraction as he studies me. “Do I? Because it seems like you’ve been keeping me in the dark about a lot lately.”
“I was trying to figure it out myself,” I admit, dragging a hand through my hair. “And yeah, I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve handled this better. But I didn’t. I screwed up. And I’m sorry.”
The apology hangs in the air between us, heavy and raw. For a moment, I think he’s going to throw it back in my face, but then he exhales, his shoulders losing some of their tension.
“I saw her earlier,” he says after a long pause, his tone losing some of its edge.
I nod, swallowing hard. “And?”
“And...” He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to find the right words. “I don’t like it, Mason. I don’t like that my sister is part of this—this thing —with you and Dean and Chad. But...”
The pause stretches, and I hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable but .
“She’s happy,” he says finally, his voice quieter. “Happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. And if this is what it takes to keep her that way...” he trails off, shaking his head like he still can’t quite believe the words coming out of his mouth.
“You’re okay with it?” I ask cautiously, not daring to hope.
“No,” he says quickly, his eyes meeting mine. “I’m not okay with it. But I’m not going to stand in her way either. Not if this is what she wants.”
Relief washes over me, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I nod, keeping my voice steady. “Thanks, Lan. That means a lot.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he mutters, his gaze hardening again. “You screw this up, Mason, and I’ll make sure you regret it. Bond or no bond.”
“I won’t,” I promise, meeting his eyes. “I’d rather die than hurt her. Or you.”
He studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Good,” he says simply.
The tension between us doesn’t disappear, but it ebbs slightly, leaving room for something that feels almost like understanding. It’s not forgiveness—not yet—but it’s a start.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he says over his shoulder as he turns to leave.
“I won’t,” I reply softly, watching as he walks away.
I stand there for a while after he’s gone, the night air cool against my skin. It’s not perfect, but it’s enough—for now.
As if the universe hasn’t thrown enough at me today, I leave the shop after barely getting anything done and steer my truck toward my mom’s apartment. My nerves twist and turn, making my stomach flip. I need to tell her I’ve found my pack.
It only takes a few minutes to pull up in front of my mom’s building. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel as I look up, searching for her window, the one with the sheer curtains she’s had since I was a kid. I pause for a second, taking a breath to steady the nerves still twisting in my gut, then climb out of the truck and head to the door to get buzzed in.
The door buzzes almost instantly, and as I step into the familiar hallway, the scent of my mom’s cooking already drifts down to greet me. She’s waiting in the doorway, her face lighting up with a warm smile. “Mason!” she says, her arms opening to pull me into a hug. But as she pulls back, her eyes zero in on the marks on my neck, and her eyebrows shoot up. “Well, would you look at that,” she teases, touching one of the marks gently. “My boy has finally found his omega, huh?”
I chuckle, feeling my face heat. “Yeah, Ma. It just… happened.”
Her grin widens, all motherly pride and affection. “Well, you better be treating them right. Omegas need care, Mason. Make sure they have their favorite things stocked up, never let them feel neglected, and show them love every day. And remember, surprises are nice, too. A happy omega makes a happy pack.”
I nod, the nerves easing a bit under her familiar fussing. “Yeah, Ma, I’ll make sure they know how much I care.”
Her eyes narrow slightly with curiosity. “So, who’s the lucky omega?”
I shift from foot to foot, bracing myself. “It’s Lakelyn… and Chad.”
Her mouth falls open for a moment, and then she laughs, pure delight spilling out as she claps her hands together. “Lakelyn, huh? I thought she was a beta, but I always knew you had a thing for her,” she says, shaking her head with a warm, knowing smile. “And I’m sure whoever Chad is, he's perfect for you.” She pauses for a minute then adds, “Wow. Two omegas?” Her eyes soften, and she reaches up to touch my cheek, her expression turning serious.
“You better treat them right, Mason. Both of them. Remember what I always taught you.” She holds my gaze, her voice firm and motherly. “Don’t be like your father. Don’t take them for granted. Show them every day how much they mean to you. Respect them, care for them, and never let them feel less than loved. They deserve all the best parts of you.”
I nod, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat. “I won’t, Ma. I promise.”
She searches my face, her eyes misty for a moment before she regains her composure and straightens. “Good. Make sure you listen to them, and if they need something, you make it happen. An omega’s happiness is what keeps a pack strong. And surprises, Mason—don’t forget those. A bouquet of flowers or cooking their favorite meal goes a long way.”
I can’t help but smile, warmth spreading in my chest. “Yeah, I’ll make sure they know how much I love them.”
She beams, her pride evident. “That’s my boy.” Then she pauses, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Now, when will you bring the two who’ve stolen your heart to dinner?”
I clear my throat, feeling the nerves twist up again. “Actually… three.”
Her brows shoot up, and her lips part in surprise. “Three?” She lets out a low whistle. “It must be serious if you’re sharing.” There’s a touch of wonder in her eyes, and she reaches for my hand, squeezing it tight. “Tell me more.”
I rub the back of my neck, feeling my ears heat up. “It is serious. Lakelyn, Chad…and Dean. They’re all mine now, and I’m theirs. It’s… complicated but right.”
She stares at me for a moment, processing, and then the softest smile blooms on her face. “Well, I’ll be damned. That’s a lot of love you’re holding there, Mason.” Her eyes shine, both with pride and an almost protective concern. “You know it won’t be easy, right? Keeping a pack happy is a full-time job.”
“I know.” My voice comes out quieter, more serious. “But I want this, Ma. I want them.”
Her hand moves to cup my cheek, her thumb brushing the corner of my jaw. “Then you better work harder than you’ve ever worked in your life to make sure they know how much they mean to you. And don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it.”
I nod, her words settling in. “I will. And... I’ll bring them to dinner soon. Promise.”
Her smile widens, and she pats my cheek gently before letting go. “I can’t wait for them to come over. All of them. But for now, sit yourself down. I’ve got Chicken and Dumplings ready in the pot, just the way you like.”
A rush of warmth fills my chest, and I don’t have the heart to refuse her. “You always know how to get me to stick around,” I say, grinning as I make my way to the kitchen table.
She chuckles, following me. “That’s because I know my boy. A good meal always makes everything feel a little bit better.”
I sink into one of the well-worn chairs, the smell of her home-cooked food wrapping around me like a hug. She busies herself ladling out a steaming bowl, setting it down in front of me with a soft clink. “Eat up,” she says, ruffling my hair. “You need your strength, with all the caring and loving you’ve got ahead of you.”
I pick up my spoon and dig in, savoring the familiar taste. It’s comfort in a bowl, a reminder of simpler times and unconditional love. My mom takes a seat across from me, watching with that same gentle smile, her eyes full of quiet pride.
“Thanks, Ma,” I murmur between bites. It’s not just for the food, but for everything—for believing in me, for always being there, for giving me the foundation I needed to handle whatever came my way.
She reaches out and covers my hand with hers, squeezing lightly. “Always, Mason.”
We sit there together, sharing stories and laughter, the warmth of home making everything else seem manageable.