3. Cass
CASS
T he sun is still below the horizon, and I already wish this fucking day was over.
I didn’t sleep last night. I tossed and turned in bed until I heard Quinn and JP getting up. Then I showered and did my best to get my head in the game.
But even after downing copious amounts of the tar Quinn calls coffee, I still feel like shit—tired, irritable, already over it. The North Star hums beneath my boots as I move across the deck, checking everything one last time and making sure the gear is secured.
The early morning air is crisp, the brine of the ocean mixing with the scents of a boat full of Omegas. I scrub a hand over my face, trying to wipe away the overpowering scent. Even with the cool air, my skin still feels too tight, and anxiety courses through me.
My body thrums with restless, nervous energy. Keep them safe. Protect them. It’s an Alpha’s prime directive—right up there with mating. Having all these Omegas in one place is like throwing gasoline on a fire.
My instincts twist beneath my skin. I’ve always been this way—too intense, always with too much feeling.
My father loves to throw it back in my face.
He thinks it’s a weakness. I used to, too.
It took having a pack to realize that there is nothing wrong with being who I am. A loose cannon with a big heart.
It doesn’t change the fact that having all these Omegas together feels like a fucking tinderbox under my skin. It’s always been like that for me. Trying to keep my nature on a leash, trying to temper the wildness that snarls and snaps just beneath the surface.
And right now there’s a particular Omega’s scent in the air, sweeter than honey and thick enough to make my head spin. It has me all kinds of confused and twitchy.
I knew she was different the moment I saw her on the docks, looking a little like a drowned orphan—small even for an Omega, hiding in that oversized green hoodie and coat like it was armor. But she didn’t look weak.
No, I could sense her grit from across the slip, something fierce and stubborn simmering beneath that shy exterior. And then her scent hit me—rich cinnamon, warm vanilla, sweet and decadent like something you want to bury yourself in and never leave.
Fuck, it gave me an instant hard-on. She smelled like home. Like something I’d been searching for without even knowing it. I’ve never smelled anyone who smells as good as she does. As soon as I noticed her on the dock and then on the boat, her scent was undeniable.
I make my way to the cabin, flipping on the navigation and waiting for the screen to boot up. Signal’s strong, satellite connection’s solid. Water depth, sea temperature, and wind speed flash across the display—conditions are rougher than usual, but manageable.
I chart a rough course to just past Falcon’s Rock, double-checking the tide tables and the marine weather forecast one last time.
The North Star’s engine’s low rumble settles into a steady purr. I flick the throttle, listening for any sputters or hesitation, but she’s smooth. Reliable. My hands move over the helm, checking steering responsiveness, adjusting trim tabs for balance.
Everything’s set, lines coiled, nets secured, life jackets stowed, VHF radio tuned to Channel 16. I tighten my grip on the wheel, excitement already humming through my veins. I really love this.
This is what I know. This is where I’m solid. Out there, away from the constant noise of the town, expectations, the business, the mess that is Graves. Just me, the North Star, and the sea.
“Everything’s loaded.” JP’s voice cuts through my thoughts as he enters the cabin, his low, gravelly tone familiar and solid. He steps up beside me, wiping his hands on a rag, shoulders already tense, staring out at our passengers. “Daisy is making me fucking jumpy.”
I glance at him, trying to read whatever’s got him angsty. JP’s good at masking shit when he wants to, but I can see the way his body is humming with energy. He’s definitely keyed up.
“What’s up, man?”
“Just Daisy, she’s always doing crazy shit to try and drum up business and make this town better and…fuck. I don’t know.” But I catch his gaze as it drifts down toward her . The new girl.
“Thought you didn’t care about Daisy’s antics,” I say, eyeing him.
“I don’t,” he snaps too quickly. “Just…there’s something about that one.” He nods toward the new girl. “Her scent, it’s making me…fucking jittery.”
My attention sharpens.
“She’s nervous,” I say before I can stop myself, my gaze locking onto the way her hands fidget with the edge of her coat. The way her eyes keep darting to the water, then back to her friends. The way she looks like she’s trying to blend in but failing miserably.
“Yeah. And that scent of hers is making it impossible to ignore.” JP’s tone is almost a growl. He’s not wrong. It’s been clawing at my senses since she set foot on the dock.
“Fucking hell, man, don’t start getting weird. We’re stuck with her for a couple hours, that’s it, not a big deal.” JP doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes locked on her. The intensity burning in them is frightening.
“I know,” JP grumbles. “And don’t worry, I’m not going to get weird, but I’m staying in here. You get to go out there, Casanova.” I laugh. JP really doesn’t believe that the opposite sex would actually find him attractive. It’s crazy.
“I figured, you’ve never been my go-to for small talk.” I chuckle as he punches me on the arm.
My gaze unwillingly slides to the other end of the boat again.
Through the cabin window, I can see her where she stands with the group, half-hidden by the crowd but impossible to ignore.
All curves, wild brown hair, and those storm-gray eyes darting everywhere like she’s trying to take in everything at once.
But it isn’t her looks that snag my attention, though God knows she’s fucking beautiful. It’s her scent. I just can’t get enough of it. Cinnamon. Warm. Soft. Sweet. Mouthwateringly good, like someone took every good, comforting thing in the world and wrapped it up in one small, delicious package.
No matter how sweet she is, no matter how much I want to close the distance between us and see if she tastes as good as she smells, I can’t. I won’t . She’s a crossroads, one I can’t afford to take, and letting myself get tangled up in her will only end one way. Badly.
But goddamn if I can stop my gaze from drifting back to her, over and over again.
I’m still reeling from the scent of her, the look of her, curves and nerves, her hood cinched tight around her head, making her heart-shaped face pop in a way that shouldn’t be so damn cute.
And her eyes—good God, I could get lost in them.
I grit my teeth, forcing myself to look away and shove her far, far from my mind.
JP clears his throat. “Maybe you’re the one who needs the reminder to not get crazy over an Omega?”
I don’t. My life has no room for an Omega, But I can’t stop her scent from crawling under my skin, and it’s only been thirty minutes. I don’t like it.
This charter was a bad idea.
Still, business is business. If we want to keep the North Star afloat and out of my father’s grasp, we take the work where we can. And these charters have been our biggest revenue lately.
JP is already at the wheel, setting course, and I can feel his nerves through the bond. Even after three years of being a bonded pack, it still catches me off guard, sometimes: the way I can feel them, the way we’re tied together in ways I never expected.
Having them here, being a pack, being able to lean on them, I never thought I’d have that, and you better believe I’ll fight with everything I am to protect it. Quinn and JP know me inside and out.
When Quinn showed up out of the blue with a two year-old Blake in his arms, it was like years of radio silence melted away.
I hadn’t expected to feel anything. But the moment he showed up asking for help, I just knew he was a missing piece, he was pack.
That connection. That pull. It felt like he’d never really left at all.
Don’t get me wrong, sometimes having them privy to every emotion I have is a nightmare.
But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I drag my gaze away, forcing my attention back to the wheel of the North Star.
“Let’s just get them out to sea and back again without any drama,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend.
JP just grunts, his eyes still locked on her like she’s a puzzle he can’t quite solve.
It makes me feel uneasy.
I scan the group, recognizing most of them. Local women, bonded to town Alphas. They’re the kind that carry themselves with confidence. They’re used to a small-town rhythm, with packs that keep them protected. Except the new girl.
She doesn’t fidget the way nervous people do, but her hands tighten around the front of her life jacket, and she keeps glancing toward the water like it might swallow her whole.
Daisy is standing beside her, grinning like the troublemaker she is. I’ve known Daisy Paulsen since we were kids. JP’s little sister was always at our heels. If she’s got this shy little Omega in her sphere, that can only mean trouble, for all of us.
I let out a quiet chuckle. Daisy collects strays—human or otherwise. But I can’t help the feeling of warmth that settles over me that Daisy has collected her . Daisy is good people and probably one of the kindest souls I’ve ever known.
I let out a deep sigh and look back toward the beach. We’ve made it well out of the protected cove the harbor sits in, and now that the group is settled, I make my way out of the cabin and step forward. Time for business.
“Alright, listen up,” I call out, my voice carrying over the deck. “Before we head out to the open ocean, we need to go over safety measures. This isn’t a pleasure cruise—it’s a working boat, and the water doesn’t care if you’ve got an adventure club name or not.”
There are a few nervous giggles, but most of them nod, listening.
I point toward the safety gear. “Life jackets are mandatory when we’re in open water. There are no exceptions. If you go overboard, don’t panic. We’ll pull you out. But the best way to survive out here is not to be an idiot.”
That earns a few real laughs, and the tension eases.
One of them—a redhead with a too-bright grin—laughs. “That’s real reassuring, Captain. How many overboard passengers have you rescued?”
A few others giggle. I narrow my eyes, but let it slide.
“We’ll be heading about 20 miles offshore,” I continue, ignoring the redhead. “The pods have been active lately, so you’ll probably see some humpbacks, maybe even a few orcas if you’re lucky. We’ll be fishing for salmon today, so with any luck, you’ll all bring home a freezer full of fish.”
“What about sharks?” one of them asks, voice a little too eager, like she’s half hoping for danger. A wide smile on her face.
I smirk. “Oh, they’re out there.”
A few of them shift nervously. Daisy elbows the girl, whisper yelling, “Relax, Hannah. You’re more likely to be eaten by your pack than by sharks.”
I snort. “She’s not wrong. But that’s why you listen to the rules and stay on deck. Wear your life jacket and you’ll be fine.”
“It will take about a couple of hours to get out there, so just hang tight and enjoy the ride. There are binoculars in the cabin if you want to look for whales.” My gaze sweeps over the group. And lands on her.
She looks half excited, half like she wants to throw up. And as if she can feel me looking at her, she looks up. I immediately feel my insides knot.
Her storm gray eyes are mesmerizing, lips parted slightly, cheeks pink from the cold. Her gaze drops, and an embarrassed flush colors her cheeks.
Something in my chest tightens as my eyes drop to her full lips. And I feel my cock twitch.
I make my rounds, checking gear, before talking to each passenger.
Part of this job is networking, too, something Quinn never gets tired of reminding me.
I make small talk and work on getting them all outfitted with the right gear.
I’m always aware of where she is though, feeling myself gravitating toward where she and Daisy stand.
“Cass, come meet my new best friend!” Daisy calls out, sounding far too cheerful.
I turn, and there she is. Her cinnamon scent swirls around me, alluring and addictive. I fight an intense urge to bury my face in her neck and scent mark her.
“Sterling, this is Cass. Cass, this is Sterling. She’s new in town, a teacher, and also really, really bad at playing it cool.” Daisy laughs.
Her cheeks flame red. “HEY!” she squeaks as she swats Daisy’s arm.
I smirk.
“Nice to meet you, Sterling,” I say, keeping my tone even. Professional. Trying desperately to sound disinterested.
Her gaze flicks to me, then away. “You, too.”
Daisy bumps her shoulder. “Cass doesn’t usually talk to anyone outside his pack unless he has to. Except for me.” She leans closer to her friend and mock whispers, “Because he’s afraid if he doesn’t, I’ll tell everyone he meets about?—”
“Daisy—”
“What? It’s true. You’re a surly recluse with an embar?—”
“Daisy, if you don’t stop, I’ll throw you overboard and make your brother jump in and save you.”
“HA! You forget, I’m the one who taught him how to swim, Cass!” she says with an air of pride, her smile beaming. She’s not joking. JP is a rescue diver and trainer mostly because of Daisy.
Sterling lifts her face to meet my eyes, and her expression shifts with interest.
I don’t like it. Or maybe I do. Either way, I shut it down.
“Hope you guys have fun. Let me know if you have any questions,” I say, stepping back.
But even as I move away, I can still feel her eyes on me.
The boat moves smoothly out to sea, the sun finally creeping over the horizon, casting golden light across the water.
The group settles in, getting comfortable, laughing as they drink steaming cups from thermoses. The next couple hours pass without incident. I keep to the cabin with JP, maintaining our distance, until it’s time to start getting them set up for fishing.
I see Sterling hesitate near the fishing gear, clearly unsure what to do. I should leave her to figure it out. But I feel stuck in her gravity, and I just can’t seem to ignore her.
“First time?” I ask, walking over.
She startles, turning toward me.
Up close, she smells even better. Her sweet cinnamon vanilla scent is warm and sweet, like being home on Sunday morning. I have to breathe through my mouth, trying to not get hard and failing.
“Yeah,” she admits, looking sheepish. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Against my better judgment, I grab a rod and show her the basics—how to hold it, how to cast, how to keep her grip steady.
She’s nervous, but not timid. And I like that. More than I should.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” I murmur, stepping back.
She exhales, smiling slightly. “Thanks.”
My Alpha literally swells with pride at making her smile.
Pure. Fucking. Trouble.