Harlan #4
“She genuinely believes she’s not enough, doesn’t she?” I ask quietly, my throat tight around the words.
Isaac closes his eyes.
“Yeah.”
Fuck.
I lean back in my chair, the leather creaking beneath me, and anger pulses through my chest.
Anger at myself, for being a reckless, immature cunt about Cassidy.
Anger at these assholes for how they have treated her.
Anger at the world for making her feel like she has to earn every scrap of reassurance she gets.
“She didn’t tell any of us because she doesn’t trust us,” Isaac says eventually, butterscotch and caramel gone painfully flat. “She’d rather struggle than let us see her as weak… as useless.”
The words kill the room.
Because every man here knows he’s right.
Cassidy would drown quietly if she thought asking for help might inconvenience someone.
And somehow, we’ve all let her.
“Then, that shit ends today,” I snarl, my jaw tight. “We stop letting her hide. We stop calling it space when what we really mean is cowardice.”
“I do believe I said this a month ago,” Silas says dryly. “But about time the rest of you idiots caught up. Harlan, you need to be the one to approach her after this meeting.”
“Are you sure?” Isaac asks tentatively.
I don’t blame him, even if it pisses me off that he’s doubting me.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Silas asks.
“Because Cassie is terrified you’re angry at her,” Isaac says. “Your email wasn’t the nicest, Harlan, especially after the panic she already endured.”
Silas growls low, and I frown.
“What are you on about? I told her to come and see me immediately. I didn’t want her going to her office and barricading herself in and rewriting the truth. If she came to me, I could reassure her.”
Isaac grimaces. “You told her to not take the piss.”
“Because sometimes when she’s nervous she tries to hide from the conversation,” I protest.
Silas clenches his fists. “You’re lucky I’m able to control myself in the workplace, Brother, or you’d have a broken nose.”
“Promises,” I taunt.
I drag a hand down my face, losing the humour quite quickly.
None of this is funny.
Not when I’ve made myself another burden my mate thinks she has to carry, instead of an alpha who should have been carrying some of it for her.
Fuck, I’m a worthless alpha.
“What’s that expression for?” Evander asks.
“I’m thinking.”
“That looks like it’s hard for you,” he stage-whispers.
“Fuck off.”
He grins.
I don’t.
“I spent months convincing myself distance was the right thing,” I admit. “I’m older than her, colder than her, more… I’m a cunt, right? I don’t deserve her, and I’m convinced I’ll just ruin her.”
Evander shrugs. “I don’t think you will. You’ll be good for her. You already don’t let her back down or hide from her opinions. You give her confidence, inspire her creativity and all that shit.”
“Wow, are you actually complimenting me right now?” I tease.
Evander scoffs. “You’re also ugly, and she could do much better. But at least she has me for when it comes to needing photo ops.”
Isaac groans, and I roll my eyes.
“I told myself I was protecting her,” Isaac says softly. “I wasn’t.”
“I was protecting myself,” I tell him, and he nods like it’s so easy for him to understand.
So easy for him to recognise.
Fuck.
There it is. The ugly truth. Everything I’ve told myself… and it’s all been a lie.
It was never about professionalism or ethics.
It was never about her age or her naivety.
It was about me and the ugly certainty that if I touched something that perfect, I’d ruin it.
Ruin someone so perfect.
And while I’ve been busy managing my own bullshit, Cassidy has been standing alone in the wreckage I helped create, still trying to make herself useful among the rubble.
Silas exhales quietly and gives me a tired smile. “Welcome to the party, Brother. It’s about time.”
I flip him off. He nods like I’ve agreed with him.
Cunt.
I look around the room.
At my brother, broad and bruised and barely holding still.
At Isaac, quiet and pale-jawed, his sweet scent flattened by worry.
At Evander, green eyes hard and jaw clenched.
Then I think about Cassidy sitting in an HR office believing she’s about to lose everything.
Believing she’s failed.
Believing she’s facing it alone.
She isn’t, and I refuse to let her continue believing she is.
Enough.
No more pretending. No more lying to myself. No more hurting her because I’m too much of a coward to want her properly.
Cassidy deserves better than my excuses.
She deserves the truth.
She deserves an alpha who stops making her pay for every cowardly thing he feels.
Most of all, she deserves somebody willing to choose her as loudly as she’s spent her entire life choosing everyone else.
The leak can wait a few more hours. HR can wait.
Gemma can fucking wait.
The second Cassidy walks out of that meeting, I’m finding her before the fear has time to settle.
And this time, I’m done hiding.
She’s my omega.
It’s time I stopped acting like that’s a fucking problem and started making it feel like a promise.
It’s time for me to claim her.
Cassidy Hargrove is my scent match, and she won’t be leaving today until she knows it, too.