House Tour…kind of #2
“Hey,” I say gently, a knot forming in my chest. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitates, fingers tightening briefly around her fork before she looks up again. When she speaks, her voice is careful and soft. “Can I ask you something?” Her dark eyes meet mine. “You don’t have to answer if it’s…not my place.”
That alone puts me on alert. “Yeah.” I quickly nod. “You can ask anything.”
Her gaze flickers away, then back, like she’s bracing herself. “Earlier…when Warren and Grason went to the black market.” She pauses, choosing each word with intent. “They went without Cass’s approval, right?”
I still.
She notices immediately and rushes to soften it.
“I’m not judging,” she says. “I just—I was taught that any member of a pack acting like that would be seen as a…” she pauses like she’s trying to find the right word, “challenge to their pack alpha’s authority.
I was wondering if they do things without Cass’s permission often? ”
Panic grips me, and I drop my fork. “They never,” I say, my chair scraping back a full inch as I lean forward. “We all deeply respect Cass and his authority.”
Her eyes narrow, like she doesn’t believe me, and my stomach drops.
Sudden fear slams into me. I’m saying all the wrong things.
So I swallow hard and try again.
“No one was challenging Cass.” I force myself to speak a little slower. “Warren and Grason are—” I search for the right phrasing, then settle on the truth. “They’re the most loyal alphas on the planet. They’ve been with Cass for years. Like decades. They would never undermine him.”
She studies my face, clearly trying to decide whether to trust me.
“You have to believe me. This wasn’t about taking power,” I say as my shoulders drop, a little defeated.
“Cass is hurt, and they panicked. That’s all.
The doctor said that getting an omega would fix him in ways traditional medicine simply couldn’t,” I try to explain.
“They honestly thought they were doing the right thing. They were trying to protect our pack.”
Tansy’s mouth tightens. Her brows pull down hard. “Fix him?” she repeats. “So none of you actually wanted an omega. You just needed something to make your alpha work again, panicked, and decided I’d do?”
I freeze.
Tension hangs between us, telling me once again I chose the wrong fucking words.
“No—Not fix,” I blurt out, voice cracking before I can stop it.
My eyes burn, hot and humiliating, and I blink hard, swallowing past the lump rising fast in my throat as I try to figure out what to say to fix this.
“That’s not what I meant. I mean—” I scrub a hand over the back of my neck, fingers shaking now.
“Cass was hurt. Bad. And the doctor said bonding could help stabilize him. Not—” I wince. “Not that you’re some kind of cure.”
Her mouth presses into a thin line. “Omegas don’t have magical medical powers,” she says quietly. She doesn’t sound angry anymore. She sounds sad, and that almost makes it worse.
“I know.” My shoulders sag as I bow my head in defeat. “We…um…I—” I trail off, hating how close I am to crying.
Tansy leans in, the sharp edge easing out of her expression when she sees how wrecked I am.
Her voice drops, gentle. “But what if my presence doesn’t fix him?
” she asks softly. “What if he stays sick? Or,” she takes a small breath before saying, “What if he dies?” Her eyes search mine, worried but kind. “What happens to me then?”
The thought of Cass dying makes my chest tightens so hard it almost hurts. “He won’t die,” I whisper, and my chin quivers.
I’m saying everything wrong.
“Beck.” Tansy slips her hand across the table. “I don’t belong here,” she says quietly. “I need to go home.”
Her gentle words hit me like a slap to the face.
“Omegas need packs that choose them on purpose,” Tansy says evenly. “Not in a panic. Not as a fix. There’s a reason academies exist, why the process is slow and thorough. Claiming an omega isn’t something you do on impulse.”
She pauses, looking at my face like she hates that this hurts me.
“I’m not saying you did anything wrong,” she adds softly.
“I just…” Her dark eyes shift to her plate.
Then, slowly, her shoulders drop, her careful posture slipping like she’s too tired to hold it anymore.
When she looks up at me, there’s something so devastatingly sad in her eyes. “Let me go home, Beck. Please.”
Everything inside me goes strangely quiet. Not panic. Not even fear. Just a hollow, numb stillness.
My one job was to make this omega feel safe. To soothe her. To make her damn breakfast. And somehow, in the span of a few sentences, I managed to convince her to reject our entire pack.
I guess I understand why.
Cass’s body is wrecked right now. He’s sick and weak. But omegas want strength and protection, alphas who can keep them safe and give them strong, healthy children.
And, right now, Cass doesn’t look like he can do any of that.
Of course, she doesn’t want us.
I stare down at my half-eaten plate, appetite completely gone.
“I get it,” I finally say quietly, eyes fixed on the untouched toast on my plate.
“It makes sense that you don’t want us.” The words hurt more than I expect.
“But this isn’t what my pack is usually like,” I say as I slowly look up, finally looking Tansy in the eye.
“We’re not a weak pack. Cass isn’t weak.
He’s…he’s impressive. Powerful. The kind of alpha people hold their breath around.
” I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “He’s good too. Loving and tender.”
Tansy’s expression goes soft and sad, like she doesn’t know what to say.
“Things have been…really hard since he was shot,” I say, my voice dropping. “The bullet tore through his ACL and practically destroyed his kneecap.” I let out a pained sigh. “The doctor said it was a miracle Cass didn’t lose his leg.”
“Wait.” Tansy’s eyes go wide, her whole upper body leaning forward. “He was shot?” Her mouth falls open in disbelief.
I realize half a second too late that I probably shouldn’t have shared that, but what does it matter now?
We’ve already been rejected, and I don’t have it in me to lie.
“Yeah,” I say, deciding to just lay it all out.
“It happened almost a month ago. Everything has kind of spiraled since then.” I slump back in my chair, throat tight.
“Cass is still a very powerful alpha,” I say as I cross my arms. “And he always will be. But the recovery’s been rough. On all of us.”
I stop there. Let the words settle. My gaze drops back to the table, to the food I haven’t touched.
“I don’t blame you for wanting someone else,” I say quietly. “If I were an omega, I’d probably reject us too.”
Tansy lets out a soft breath, like she’s been holding it for a while.
Then she reaches across the table.
The movement is slow, almost tentative, like she’s not entirely sure she should touch me. Her fingers brush my arm, light but steady, and my chest flutters at the small contact.
“It’s not personal,” she says quietly. “I’m not rejecting you, or your pack, because of Cass’s injury.” She looks deep into my eyes. “I…I need to go home.”
I tilt my head. “H-home?” I ask before I can stop myself. “Where, where is home?”
Tansy draws her hand back, folding it neatly in her lap again. “Danvers,” she says. “The academy.”
My mind goes blank, empty and buzzing at the same time.
“I’ve never been to an omega academy before,” I say simply to fill the unbearable silence. “My mom did work in the kitchens at Havenfield for a bit when I was a kid.” I wipe at my face and freeze when I feel the dampness there. I didn’t even realize I was crying. “Is Danvers nice?”
Tansy’s expression softens even more, sympathy pulling at her mouth as she looks at me. “It’s really nice.”
I nod too fast, forcing my shoulders back like I can pull myself together if I try hard enough. “Yeah,” I say, voice rough but steadying. “Tell me about it?” I cling to the change in subject. “What’s it like there?”
Tansy gives me a sad, understanding smile, the kind that says she knows exactly why I’m asking and isn’t going to call me out on it.
“The main building is pretty old,” she says with the sweetest smile.
“Ivy grows up the face of it, and the stone paths are always warm in the afternoons. There’s a library with huge windows that face the courtyard, and the sunlight comes in just right in the evenings.
” Her gaze drifts, like she can see it right now.
“What kind of classes did you take?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going. Like if she talks about Danvers long enough, maybe she’ll change her mind and decide to stay.
So stupid.
“Art history,” she says, relaxing as she talks. “I also take a lot of studio classes. Drawing. Sculpture.” A faint, almost shy smile flickers across her face as she adds, “Ballet, too. Every morning. My mother says I don’t have the body type for it, but my teacher says I’m a natural.”
My eyes flicker over her upper body before I can stop myself. She’s curvy, sure—but there’s strength there, too. Tansy isn’t some delicate, wispy thing, but she looks strong with those long, toned legs.
If this omega dances half as gracefully as she eats, then she’d be the most amazing ballerina in the world.
“Danvers has gardens too,” Tansy says as her gaze drifts out the window.
“They have roses and tulips. Even a cluster of willow trees.” Her eyes stay fixed on the far corner of the yard as she goes on.
“It’s so big they hold parties there in the spring.
” Her smile suddenly slips, like she’s remembered something sad.
“They’re formal meet-and-greets for omegas to meet prospective packs.
” She swallows hard as worry lines press deep between her brows. “I’ve always avoided them.”
Then she goes quiet, gaze still fixed on the window, all the warmth gone.