Dreaming #2
Grason clears his throat, hands hovering uselessly at his sides. “Uh—” He stops, clearly unsure what to do with himself. “Good evening.” His eyes cut to Cass as he snaps his mouth shut, then drops his gaze. He looks…guilty?
“Hey,” Beck says with a little laugh, pulling my attention away from Grason. “You’re up.”
Cass doesn’t say a word. He just keeps looking at me like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Warren takes a single step toward me, then stops. He looks so conflicted, like he wants to talk to me but can’t for some reason.
“Are you hungry?” Beck asks.
I nod, suddenly feeling very out of place. My stomach lets out an aching twist, and I press a hand over it. “Yeah,” I say, a little embarrassed. “I’m starving.”
Beck’s whole face lights up with immediate relief. “Good,” he says quickly. “Dinner’s almost ready. I hope you like pork chops.”
My mouth waters before I can stop it, and judging by the way Cass’s eyes drop briefly to my hand on my stomach, he notices.
Or maybe he can feel it through our bond…
I’m not sure. I can feel his presence in the back of my mind. Calm and steady. And I can feel the slight ache in his leg, but other than that, I can’t pinpoint anything specific in his mood. There’s no way an alpha is that tranquil.
He has to be blocking me out somehow.
“Can I help with anything?” I ask, but Beck quickly tells me that everything is already pretty much done.
Cass turns to Warren. “Set the dining room table.”
Warren turns on his heel, already pulling plates from the cabinet.
Cass’s attention shifts back to me. He lifts two fingers and curls them once, an unmistakable gesture. “Come here, omega.”
My feet move before I can think about it.
As I cross the kitchen, Cass’s gaze shifts to Grason. “Will you get me an ice pack?”
Grason is already halfway across the room by the time I reach the kitchen island. The tall alpha opens the freezer and grabs a thick, blue gel-ice pack.
The room settles into motion as I stop right next to Cass.
Plates clink. A pan sizzles. Someone hums under their breath.
Cass rises from the stool slowly, but there’s no sharp intake of breath. No grimace. No sound of pain dragged out of him like he did in the bathroom. He straightens to his full height with a controlled ease that makes me blink.
His leg looks…steadier…I think.
Before I can comment on it, Cass pushes his papers aside, lifts me clean off the floor, and sets me on the kitchen island right in front of him. The motion is so sudden I gasp despite myself, then hiss as the back of my thighs hit the cold marble countertop.
“Spread your legs.” Cass gives me a low command, tapping the side of my thigh with one hand.
I freeze then blink, not sure what he plans to do.
“Don’t be shy.” Cass grips both of my knees, then he spreads my legs for me. The motion makes me gasp again, and my hands fly up to grip his shoulders to keep from falling over.
I suddenly feel so exposed and vulnerable.
Grason inches closer, holding an ice pack wrapped in a thin towel. His dark hazel eyes drift over my inner thighs before quickly looking away. For a second, he almost looks nervous to be around me. It's a fleeting emotion that he masks quickly.
I can’t help but think what an odd thing that is for an alpha of his size to feel. Nervous. Around me.
Cass takes the ice pack from Grason, his eyes never leaving mine.
But before I can register what's happening, the pack alpha lifts my shirt, hooks his fingers into the waistband of my boxers, and pushes the freezing ice pack down the front, settling it directly against my abused, swollen flesh.
I let out a high-pitched yelp as the shocking cold hits my pussy.
It's an aggressive, biting sensation that makes my whole body jolt. But just as quickly as the initial shock hits, it transforms. The intense, sharp ache from my heat begins to numb, and a wave of profound relief washes over me.
I melt, and my body goes limp. My head falls forward, resting on Cass’s chest as a long, shaky sigh escapes my lips.
The cold is no longer a shock.
It's a blessing.
Slowly, Cass’s hand comes up, cradling the back of my head, his palm warm and steady against my hair. He rubs slow circles at the base of my skull. A soft laugh rumbles out of his chest, low and fond, the sound vibrating through me where I’m pressed against him.
“I could sense your discomfort,” he murmurs, more amused than alarmed. “You probably shouldn’t walk too much for now. Not until you’re completely healed.”
Before I can respond, he leans in and nuzzles the side of my neck just once. It’s brief, almost restrained, but his scent sinks into my skin anyway. Warm amber and soft leather.
Then Cass takes my wrist, turning it carefully, and presses a soft kiss to the inside.
The effect is immediate. My muscles loosen, the tension bleeding out of me in a slow rush, my body settling like it’s finally been given permission to rest.
“Grason?” Cass shifts slightly, just enough to brace me better. “Can you carry her to the dining room?” he asks as he releases me. “I don’t want to overdo it.” His blue eyes met mine. “Beck will kill me if I fuck up my leg.”
I start to protest out of pure reflex, a shaky breath already forming into a no, but then Grason steps closer, and I get a lungful of his scent. Crisp pine and clean air, cutting straight through the lingering nerves in my chest.
My shoulders drop before I can stop them.
“…Okay,” I say quietly, the fight draining out of me.
Grason slides one arm under my knees and the other around my back, lifting me with careful ease. The movement is smooth and controlled, like he’s afraid of jostling me, and he carries me into the next room without a word.
The ice pack stays lodged between my legs as we move.
Warren has already pulled out a chair for me. Grason lowers me into it just as carefully, making sure I’m steady before letting go.
“Thank you,” I whisper once I’m settled.
The tall alpha meets my eyes, his expression open and earnest. “You’re welcome,” he whispers just as softly.
The long table is already set when we sit down, plates and silverware laid out with quiet care as Beck and Warren finish bringing over the last of the dishes.
Cass makes his way to the table a few steps behind everyone else, moving carefully with a cane, the steady tap of it a soft counterpoint to the clink of dishes. I’m glad to see he isn’t being careless with his injury.
During my heat, there were more than a few moments when I was convinced he was going to snap his leg clean in half.
He takes the chair at the head of the table, right beside mine, and the sight of it sends a small, unexpected swell of relief through my chest.
Beck offers me some wine, but I shake my head, choosing water instead. The food is simple, warm, and clearly made with care. It’s also a little rich right after a heat.
Omegas are supposed to ease back in with bland, gentle foods so their stomachs don’t revolt. I know that, but I also don’t care. I’m starving.
Everyone sits, then digs in. Beck takes the chair next to me, with Warren and Grason across from us. I wait for the alphas to serve themselves first, then I reach for a pork chop as well as a dinner roll. Then I eat until the hollow ache in my belly finally eases and my shoulders start to loosen.
Beck watches me for a second, then gestures with his fork toward a small pot near his elbow. “I made mac and cheese too,” he says hopefully. “If you want some.”
I glance at it, my mouth literally watering, but force myself to shake my head. “Not tonight.”
His face falls immediately. “Oh. I just—” He trails off for a second, then grimaces slightly. “I wanted to make you some of your favorite foods. But you were sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake you up.”
My chest tightens a little at that. "I actually love mac and cheese," I tell him quickly. "It's just an omega thing. We have to be careful with rich food right after our heat."
Clear guilt hits Beck hard and fast. His shoulders slump, eyes wide. “Oh my god. I didn’t even think about that.” His mouth falls open. “I should’ve known. I’m sorry, Tansy. I didn’t—”
“Hey,” I cut in gently, shaking my head. “It’s really not a big deal. Most people don’t know that stuff unless they’re taught. And you did great.” I nod at the table, the food, the care woven into all of it. “This is perfect. I don’t think I’ve ever had a pork chop this delicious before.”
The beta studies my face like he’s making sure I mean it, then exhales, tension easing out of him. “Okay,” he says softly. “Next time, though. I’ll make it when you can actually enjoy it.”
I smile at that and take another bite of my soft roll, warmth settling a little deeper into my bones.
Cass clears his throat beside me, the sound low and deliberate, like he’s been waiting for a break in the conversation. I glance over and find his attention fixed on me, expression careful in a way that makes my chest tighten.
“After dinner,” he says quietly, “would you like to see your nesting room?” The words land gently, offered instead of commanding me. “Grason set it up,” he adds.
Grason straightens a little at the mention of his name. “You can change it however you want,” he says quickly. “Move things. Add stuff. Whatever—”
There’s a sharp smack, quick and precise.
Warren’s hand clips the back of Grason’s head without even looking at him.
Grason freezes, then immediately ducks his head, shoulders hunching as he clamps his mouth shut, eyes dropping to his plate like he’s just been reminded of something important.
The table goes quiet for half a beat.
Beck blinks, looking between them. “What the hell was that?” he asks, brow furrowing.
Cass exhales slowly through his nose, one hand lifting in a subtle gesture, telling everyone to let it go, and the easy noise of dinner resumes a second later. But I don’t miss the way Grason stays carefully silent after that. Or the way Warren keeps his gaze firmly on his food, jaw set tight.
Beck, unfortunately, misses absolutely nothing.
He waits all of ten seconds before leaning toward Warren. He lowers his voice like I’m not sitting right there. “Okay,” he mutters, sharp and annoyed. “We’re not doing this. Acting weird isn’t going to make Tansy feel at home. What’s going on?”
Warren’s jaw tightens. He shakes his head once, clearly telling the beta to drop it.
But Beck doesn’t. He sits up, cutting a frustrated look between the two younger alphas, “You’re both making dinner weird.”
Warren finally looks up. “Beck,” he says quietly, warning threaded through the calm. “Drop it.”
Grason nods once, stiff and uncomfortable. “Please,” he adds, voice low. “Let it go.”
Beck looks between them, incredulous. “I’m not the one making dinner weird,” he says flatly.
Cass lets out a heavy sigh as he sets down his fork. “Warren and Grason are being punished,” he says, voice low and even.
“For what?” Beck makes a face, clearly not understanding.
“For claiming an omega without permission,” Cass continues, and I take a quick sip of my water. “They don’t get to speak to Tansy unless she speaks to them first.”
Beck’s mouth falls open, then snaps shut again.
He blinks once, then points his fork at Cass.
“Wow. Okay. In that case, I’d like to formally request the same punishment.
” He turns to Warren and Grason, lips curling into a little smirk.
“You’re both not allowed to talk to me unless spoken to first either. Fair’s fair.”
A low, unmistakably playful growl rumbles out of Grason’s chest before he can stop it, and Beck beams like he’s won something.
I can’t help it. A small snort slips out of me, before I catch myself. I quickly look back down at my plate, hoping no one heard it.
“Stop it, Beck,” Cass warns gently as he takes a bite of his dinner.
Grason’s shoulders ease just a fraction, tension bleeding off him, while Warren lets out a quiet breath through his nose, the barest hint of amusement crossing his face.
Beck, however, is undeterred. “So,” he says, clearly trying to sound very casual, “how long does the punishment last?”
My fork pauses halfway to my mouth.
I glance at Beck out of the corner of my eye, stunned. I can't believe he's questioning Cass about how he's punishing his pack like it's no big deal. My fathers would have lost their damn minds if you even looked at them funny after handing down a punishment.
Actually, questioning them out loud would have earned me a backhand and a week locked in my room.
But Beck isn’t afraid at all.
The casual way he asks, and the fact that Cass doesn’t bristle or harden in the slightest. It’s so foreign it makes my head spin.
“Long enough for the lesson to stick,” Cass says evenly. “Now eat, beta.”
Beck nods, accepting that without argument. “Cool,” he says, and reaches for another roll. “Just checking.”
Warren shakes his head, lips twitching despite himself, and Grason lets out a quiet huff that might almost be a laugh. The table settles back into its easy rhythm, conversation drifting again, the tension fully dissolved this time.
I take another bite of my roll, heart still thudding a little too fast as I try to wrap my head around a pack where questioning the alpha doesn’t end the world.
It feels so fucking strange.
And that might be the most unsettling part of all.