Harlan #3
Isaac closes his eyes briefly. Silas coughs into his champagne.
And I stare at her in disbelief.
Because, apparently, she’s decided humiliating me publicly is tonight’s theme.
Vivienne blinks between us slowly. “Rested?”
Cassidy freezes.
Completely freezes.
Colour drains from her face so fast her scent spikes with panic, and I almost feel bad for her.
Almost.
If she’d done as she was told, there wouldn’t be this awkward situation right now. If she’d stayed home and actually looked after herself, she’d be fine.
Truly fine, for once.
“She wasn’t feeling well yesterday,” Isaac says smoothly before she can spiral completely. “We bullied her into taking it easy for once.”
“We?” Julianna repeats, amused.
Isaac gestures lazily around the table. “Some of us care about workplace well-being rather than ridiculous deadlines.”
“Oh, fuck off,” I mutter, annoyed that he’s twisted Cassidy’s lack of care for herself into something that is somehow my fault in front of her mother.
In front of my parents.
To my complete horror, Cassidy lets out a startled laugh and ducks her head to hide it.
Thank fuck, another chair scrapes against the floor before anyone can say anything else.
“Sorry,” a male voice says easily. “Traffic was a nightmare.”
I turn automatically as the final person arrives at the table.
Tall, dark-haired alpha.
Expensive charcoal suit with no tie, like he couldn’t quite commit to full formality.
And Cassidy’s entire face lights up.
Warmth floods her expression so naturally it makes something ugly and starving twist beneath my ribs because I’ve never seen her look that unguarded.
Who the fuck is this alpha?
“Frankie,” she breathes, rising from her seat so gracefully it pisses me off.
The alpha grins immediately. “Cass.”
He leans forward, hugging her with a familiarity that is not his to have, leaving his slimy scent all over her. I want to rip his arms from their sockets.
Evander snarls, and if looks could kill, Silas would be a murderer. Even Isaac, the calmest of us all, is bothered.
He holds on to her arm as he pulls back, grinning at her with that familiar look.
Far too fucking familiar for my liking.
“You all right?” he asks quietly, and she nods with a soft smile.
“I’m okay,” she says, though it comes out slightly sheepish beneath the weight of every pair of eyes currently on her.
Frankie’s gaze sharpens briefly. He notices, too.
Asshole.
“Frankie Bennett,” he says smoothly, finally looking towards the rest of us. “Sorry for being late.”
As he fucking should be. This is a charity event, and he’s come strolling in without a fucking care in the world for the cause we’re all here to support.
Manhandling Cassidy like she’s the reason he’s here, when that should never be the case.
Adrian greets him first, calm and composed as always, whilst Celeste and Julianna exchange amused looks that I immediately distrust.
Because apparently tonight isn’t difficult enough already.
“How do you two know each other?” Vivienne asks casually, and I’m relieved that I never had to ask the question.
From her mum, it’s coming from a place of intrigue.
From me, it would be something bigger.
Frankie laughs softly as he takes the empty seat beside her. “Unfortunately, I was stuck with Little Miss Perfect here at university.”
Cassidy gasps quietly beside him, her eyes twinkling in amusement. “Frankie Bennett!”
His grin widens. “You cried because somebody criticised your typography during first year.”
“That happened once.”
“Twice,” he corrects. “And then you stress-baked enough banana bread to feed an army.”
Cassidy hides part of her face behind her champagne flute, horrified. The table laughs softly around her.
Even my mums.
I can’t stop staring at her. At how soft and at ease she is. Even her scent settles, softer and warmer, as she relaxes.
She fits here. In this world. In my world.
That’s the truly dangerous part. Not the scent match.
Not the attraction.
Not even the fucking instinctive pull towards her.
It’s this moment here.
Cassidy smiling shyly between conversations whilst my family immediately folds her into the table like she belongs there.
Isaac quietly checking whether she’s actually eating the appetisers placed in front of her.
Evander watching her with barely restrained frustration every time she shifts too quickly in those ridiculous heels.
Silas making her laugh despite her obvious nerves.
And my parents—fuck. They already know. Worse, they already adore her.
A future I have no right to want opens up in front of me.
Cassidy seated beside me at another gala years from now, soft silk stretched over the curve of a pregnant belly whilst she laughs quietly at something Silas says, entirely certain she belongs there.
My hand spread possessively over her thigh beneath the table, my scent wrapped so tightly around her nobody would question who she belonged beside.
Our parents arguing over baby names. Isaac feeding her because she forgot again, whilst Evander glares at anyone who looks at her too long.
The only thing ruining tonight is him. The interloper who doesn’t belong, trying to steal her attention, sitting too close to a future I shouldn’t want.
He leans towards her easily, comfortably, like he’s done it a thousand times before.
And Cassidy lets him.
What the fuck has this alpha done to ensure she trusts him completely?
The sight twists something sharp beneath my ribs. Because she doesn’t look at him the way she looks at us.
There’s no panic. No uncertainty. No awareness of the bond pulling tight beneath every interaction at this fucking table.
She’s just… happy.
Happy with him.
It pisses me off that he’s sticking to her like a fucking mangy stray.
Put him down, it’ll be better for everyone.
And yet, even as I’m coming up with increasingly creative ways to remove Frankie Bennett from this evening entirely, Cassidy tips her head back and laughs at something he says—open and unguarded, the sound catching beneath my ribs like a hook.
Fucking hell.
I never realised I could hate another person this badly. There’s no warning. My brain just starts doing shit it has no right to do.
Conjuring an entire future I have no business wanting.
Heat punches through me so violently I reach for my champagne just to have something to do with my hands.
Silas goes very still beside me. He knows. Of course, he fucking knows.
He always does.
I don’t look at him. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose it.
Not after the shit he’s pulled tonight.
Across the table, Frankie murmurs something close to Cassidy’s ear, and she tips her head back with another laugh.
She doesn’t laugh like that for me. She flinches. She apologises. She turns herself into the villain because I keep handing her the role.
She glances up then, just briefly, and catches me watching. Her smile fades at the edges.
I hate it. I hate her.
No. I hate myself.
The way she braces every time our eyes meet, like she already knows I’ll hurt her.
I look away first.
My jaw is aching. My anger bubbling.
Silas refills my glass without a word, the gesture so insufferably knowing that I nearly snap the stem in half.
I can’t escape her.
Not here. Not at work. Not in my own fucking head.
No matter how hard I try to keep distance between us, Cassidy Hargrove keeps finding every weak place I have left.
Laughing too freely, smelling too good, fitting too neatly into a life she has no idea I’ve already started building around her.
If I could, I’d be gone. I’d spend the night doing anything other than this.
And somehow, the worst part is knowing this night is only just beginning.