Chapter 3 #2
I do. He's warning me that Ash will destroy me if I let him. That wanting him is one thing, but expecting him to stay is another.
"Maybe I don't need keeping," I say.
Robin snorts. "Jason, you're literally the keeper of this entire pride.
You feed everyone, take care of everyone, make sure Knox doesn't go feral and Vaughn actually eats vegetables and Silas emerges from his book corner occasionally.
You're domestic as fuck. You probably have fantasies about someone letting you cook for them every night.
" He pauses. "Actually, do you? Because that would explain a lot about this vindaloo situation. "
"Shut up."
"And Ash is a hurricane. Gorgeous and powerful and he will level you. Fun to watch from a distance, but you don't want to be standing in the path when it makes landfall."
"Hurricanes eventually stop."
"Yeah, after they destroy everything."
The words hit harder than I want them to. I busy myself with dishes, scrubbing a pot that's probably beyond saving, the burned onion remnants clinging stubbornly to the bottom.
"I can handle it," I say.
Robin looks skeptical. "Can you? Because you look at him the way Toby looks at Knox, and that kind of wanting only ends two ways. Mated for life, or completely destroyed."
"Toby got his happy ending."
"Toby got lucky. Knox's lion chose him—he didn't have a choice in the matter, the bond just happened.
Instinct took over, and Knox would literally die before letting Toby go.
That's shifter magic, not effort." Robin squeezes my shoulder again.
"Ash is human. Humans don't have instincts telling them who their person is.
They have to choose, every day, to stay.
And Ash has never chosen that. Not once. Not for anyone."
"Maybe he never had a reason to."
"Oh, honey." Robin's smile is sad. "That's exactly the kind of thinking that's going to get you hurt."
The door opens again and Toby walks in, messenger bag over his shoulder, looking tired but content. His hair is slightly mussed, probably from running his hands through it while shelving books. He must have just closed up the library.
Knox appears from the back office approximately two seconds later, like he has some kind of Toby-radar. Which, knowing shifter bonds, he probably does. I've seen Knox's head turn toward the door a full minute before Toby walks through it.
"Hey, sunshine."
"Hey." Toby smiles up at him, soft and private, the kind of smile that's only for one person. "Let me just grab my book and I'll—"
Knox takes his hand, already pulling him toward the stairs. "Book later."
"But Robin just got here, and Jason looks like he's having some kind of—"
"Robin's fine."
"I'm totally fine," Robin calls after them, waving a dismissive hand. "Go get thoroughly fucked. I'll just be here, dying of macaron overdose and watching Jason have a crisis over curry."
"I'm not having a crisis," I mutter.
But Knox and Toby are already gone, their footsteps retreating up the stairs, and a moment later I hear Toby laugh at something Knox said. The sound of a door closing. Then noises I really don't need to hear from my alpha and his mate.
Robin watches them go with an unreadable expression, something flickering across his face too fast to catch.
"That's what you want, isn't it?" he says quietly. "What they have."
"Doesn't everyone?"
"No." Robin's voice is barely above a whisper. "Some of us know better than to want things we can't have."
Before I can ask what he means, he shakes it off, putting his easy smile back on like armor.
The garage door opens and Vaughn comes in, wiping his hands on a rag, grease streaked up his forearms. He takes one look at the kitchen—the multiple pots, the scattered spices, the tension between me and Robin—and sighs.
"How many batches?"
"Four," Robin supplies.
"For the human he met once."
"He's Robin's brother," I protest. "It's not weird to want to make a good impression on your friend's family."
"It's a little weird." Silas appears in the doorway, book in hand, finger marking his place. "Four batches weird."
"The same human who threatened arson within five minutes of arriving," Ezra adds, materializing from the back hallway.
"To protect Toby! It was protective, not aggressive."
"It was a credible threat." Ezra leans against the doorframe. "I looked him up. Army Special Forces, Green Beret. Three tours in Afghanistan, then five years of classified operations. The man is a trained killer."
"So is Knox," I point out. "He's a literal apex predator."
"Knox is pack," Vaughn says. "Different rules."
"Ash is Robin's brother. He's Toby's family. That makes him—"
"Adjacent," Silas cuts in quietly. "Not pack. And you're acting like he's already your mate."
The word lands heavy. Mate. The thing every shifter wants, the bond that means forever. The word I've been avoiding even in my own head.
"I'm not—"
"Four batches of vindaloo," Vaughn says. "You've been twitchy all day. You growled at Ezra this morning when he suggested ordering pizza instead of cooking."
"I did not growl."
"You absolutely growled," Ezra confirms. "Full lion-voice. Over pizza."
Shit.
"We're not telling you to stay away from him," Vaughn says, his voice shifting into the tone he uses as Knox's second.
Pack business. "That's your choice. But we are asking you to be careful.
You've got a soft heart. Always have. And Ash seems like the kind of person who would take everything you're offering without giving anything back. "
"Dangerous," Ezra says.
"Temporary," Silas adds.
"Hot as fuck but emotionally unavailable," Robin concludes. "Which, same, honestly. At least I'm self-aware about it."
"You're not—" I start.
"I'm absolutely a disaster. I just hide it better.
" Robin stretches, yawning. "Okay, I need sleep.
Twelve hundred macarons' worth of sleep.
But Jason? The food will be perfect. You're an amazing cook.
Just... protect yourself, okay? If you happen to see Toby for more than a second, let him know I said hi. We'll catch up later."
He heads for the door, then pauses.
"And maybe don't make a fifth batch tonight. You've got it right. Trust yourself."
Then he's gone, and the others drift away too—Vaughn back to the garage, Ezra to wherever Ezra disappears to, Silas to his corner with his book. I'm left alone in the kitchen with four containers of test vindaloo and a lot of feelings I don't know what to do with.
I finish cleaning up. Wash every dish, wipe every surface, put every spice container back in its exact place. The kitchen is spotless by the time I'm done, no evidence of my obsessive preparation except the containers in the fridge.
Tomorrow I'll start fresh. Make the real batch, the one Ash will actually eat. I'll make perfect naan, fluffy rice, cool raita to balance the heat. I'll set the table nicely, make sure everyone has what they need, be a good host.
And I'll try not to stare at Ash like he's the answer to a question I didn't know I was asking.
I know Robin's right. I know they're all right. Ash is dangerous, temporary, and will probably break me if I let him in. He doesn't do relationships, doesn't do feelings, doesn't do staying. I'm setting myself up for heartbreak and I know it.
But when he grabbed my wrist, when he said my name, when his eyes lingered on me for just that second longer than they needed to—
I felt something click into place. My lion chose. The same way Knox's lion chose Toby.
The difference is, Ash is human. He can't feel the pull the way I can. He doesn't have instincts screaming at him to claim and keep.
For him, I'm just a pretty face. A potential fuck. Something to enjoy and then move on from.
Maybe that should be enough. Maybe I should take what I can get—one night, one week, however long his interest lasts—and be grateful for it. Maybe destruction would be worth it, if the destruction is beautiful enough.
I turn off the kitchen lights and head upstairs to my room. Tomorrow Ash will be here, eating food I made for him, looking at me with those sharp hazel eyes.
I don't need forever. I've never expected that.
Maybe I just need tomorrow.