Chapter 19 #2
“I felt jealous once,” Cassian said quietly. “Last week when I saw Hollis and Talia at the bookstore. They were laughing about something, and she looked so relaxed and happy. And my immediate instinct was possessive anger that someone else was making her happy.”
“But you didn’t act on it,” Hollis observed.
“No. I recognized it as an instinct, acknowledged it, and let it pass. Because logically, I want Talia to be happy. If Hollis makes her happy, that’s good. My possessive instincts don’t override her wellbeing.”
“That’s really mature,” I said, meaning it.
“It’s really difficult,” Cassian corrected. “But necessary if this is going to work.”
“I worry about balance,” Hollis admitted. “Making sure she gets equal attention from all of us. That nobody’s monopolizing her time or making the others feel neglected.”
“Hence the Sunday check-ins,” I said. “If someone’s feeling neglected, that’s when we address it.”
“Theoretically.” Cassian knocked down six pins. “But will we actually be honest if something’s bothering us? Or will we perform being okay because we don’t want to cause problems?”
That was uncomfortably insightful.
“I vote for honest,” I said. “Even if it’s awkward. Especially if it’s awkward.”
“Agreed,” Hollis said. “We’re building something unconventional. We can’t do that with conventional communication patterns.”
“Then we commit to honesty,” Cassian said. “No matter how uncomfortable.”
We finished the game. Final scores had Hollis and me winning by a significant margin, though Cassian’s gradual improvement was genuinely impressive.
“Drinks at The Tap?” I suggested. “Cassian’s buying, per our agreement.”
“I’m buying for two people. That seems like I’m being penalized for poor bowling performance.”
“That’s exactly what’s happening. It’s an incentive to improve for next time.”
“Next time?” Cassian looked alarmed.
“Of course next time. This is a weekly thing now. Alpha bonding through competitive sports.”
“I never agreed to weekly.”
“You’re agreeing now. Hollis, back me up.”
“Weekly bowling sounds perfect,” Hollis said, grinning. “Character building.”
We returned our rental shoes and headed to The Tap, a bar three blocks away that catered to locals rather than tourists. Dark wood, good beer selection, and enough privacy for actual conversation.
We claimed a corner booth and Cassian ordered a round of IPAs that probably cost more than the bowling had.
“So,” I said once we’d settled in. “Real talk. Has anyone talked to Talia about what happens when her heat comes?”
The question hung in the air for a moment. Hollis and Cassian both looked slightly uncomfortable.
“I haven’t,” Hollis admitted. “I wasn’t sure if it was too presumptuous to bring up.”
“Same,” Cassian said. “We’ve only been officially doing this for a week. Discussing heat cycles feels like it might be rushing things.”
“But it’s going to happen eventually,” I pointed out. “And if we’re committing to pack formation, we need to know what she wants. Does she want all of us there? Just one of us? Does she have a plan for handling it?”
“Those are all questions she needs to answer,” Hollis said carefully. “Not decisions we make for her.”
“Exactly. Which is why someone should ask.” I took a sip of my beer. “I’m not suggesting we plan anything without her. I’m suggesting we find out what her expectations are so we can prepare accordingly.”
“Fair point.” Cassian frowned slightly. “Though I don’t know the etiquette for that conversation. ‘Hey, about your biological cycle that makes you vulnerable, what’s your plan?’ seems fraught.”
“It is fraught,” Hollis agreed. “But necessary. Especially given her past with Vincent. She needs to know she has complete control over how that happens and who’s involved.”
“Should we bring it up at Sunday’s check-in?” I suggested. “All four of us together, so it’s clear we’re asking rather than planning?”
“That seems like the right approach,” Hollis said. “Make it part of the regular communication instead of some separate negotiation.”
“Agreed.” Cassian was quiet for a moment. “I’ll admit, the logistics concern me. Not the intimacy itself, but coordinating three alphas during an omega’s heat without it becoming territorial chaos.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I said. “If she wants all of us there, we coordinate. If she wants us individually, we respect that. The important thing is that it’s her choice.”
“And that we’re all on the same page before it happens,” Hollis added. “No surprises, no assumptions, no alpha instincts overriding common sense.”
“Can we do that?” Cassian asked. “Override instinct during heat? I’ve never been through a heat cycle with anyone. I don’t know if coordination is realistic when biology is screaming at you to claim and possess.”
“It’s possible if we go in with a plan,” I said. “I’ve seen pack dynamics work during heat. But it requires communication beforehand and real commitment to putting her needs first.”
“Then that’s what we do,” Hollis said firmly. “We talk to her one Sunday soon once we’ve settled more into a routine with each other. Find out what she wants. And we commit to making it work however she needs it to.”
We all nodded, and I felt some of the tension ease. This was why the alpha bonding mattered. So we could have these conversations before crisis hit, build enough trust that we could be honest about concerns without it turning into competition.
“Can I say something sentimental now?” Hollis asked.
“Is it going to make us uncomfortable?” Cassian said.
“Probably.”
“Then yes, absolutely say it.”
“I’m glad we’re doing this. Not just the pack formation with Talia, but the actual friendship between us. I’ve spent three years helping people without actually connecting with anyone. And you two are reminding me that I’m capable of more than just being useful.”
“That’s very sentimental,” Cassian said. “But also accurate. I feel similarly. My entire life has been transactional relationships. This is the first time I’ve had friends who want to spend time with me without expecting something in return.”
“Group hug?” I suggested.
“Absolutely not,” Cassian said immediately.
“Maybe later when we’re more bonded,” Hollis offered diplomatically.
“Never. We’re never doing a group hug.”
We finished our beers and ordered another round. Talked about easier things. Cassian’s consulting work. Hollis’s bookstore expansion plans. My idea for a new trail maintenance program that would create jobs while protecting wilderness areas.
Around nine, Hollis’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and smiled. “Talia. She wants to know if we killed each other yet.”
“Tell her we’re all alive and Cassian bought drinks like a gentleman,” I said.
Hollis typed back, and moments later all our phones buzzed with her response in the group chat: Glad you’re bonding. Also, Cassian, I heard about your bowling performance. We’ll work on that.
Cassian: There’s no shame in having areas for improvement.
Talia: There’s also no shame in admitting you threw seven gutter balls.
Jace: EIGHT. He threw eight gutter balls.
Cassian: I was establishing a baseline before implementing improvements.
Hollis: That’s a very diplomatic way to describe being terrible at bowling.
Talia: I love that you three are becoming friends. Also I’m stealing “establishing a baseline” for future use.
I looked at Hollis and Cassian, at the easy way we’d fallen into banter and genuine conversation. At how natural it felt to be part of something bigger than just individual relationships with Talia.
“We’re actually doing this,” I said. “Building a pack.”
“Apparently so,” Hollis agreed.
“It’s statistically improbable that this should work,” Cassian said. “Three alphas with completely different personalities and no prior connection beyond shared interest in one omega.”
“But it is working,” I pointed out.
“It is.” He raised his beer. “To improbable success.”
“To pack,” Hollis added.
“To actually liking each other despite everything,” I finished.
We clinked glasses and drank to that. To friendship that shouldn’t work but did. To trust that was being earned rather than assumed. To building something unconventional because it felt right instead of because it made sense.
We stayed until closing, talking and laughing and occasionally giving each other shit in the way that meant genuine affection. When we finally headed out into the October night, I felt more settled than I had in weeks.
This was going to work. Not because it was easy or simple or what anyone expected. But because we were all choosing it, all willing to be uncomfortable and vulnerable and honest even when instinct said to compete.
“Same time next week?” I asked as we reached our cars.
“For bowling?” Cassian looked pained.
“For whatever. Bowling, hiking, sitting in a bar talking about feelings. Whatever feels right.”
“I’m in,” Hollis said.
Cassian sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’m practicing bowling before next week. I refuse to be this terrible indefinitely.”
“That’s the spirit. Competitive excellence through determination.”
We went our separate ways, and I drove home thinking about how weird and right this all felt. Three alphas who barely knew each other two months ago, now genuinely invested in each other’s happiness and wellbeing.
My phone buzzed with a final message in the group chat.
From Talia: Thank you. All three of you. For trying this with me. For being willing to do the hard work. I know it’s not easy.
I typed back: Nothing worth having is easy. But you’re worth it.
Hollis: What Jace said, but with more literary eloquence.
Cassian: I’m still committed to this arrangement. Even if it means enduring weekly bowling humiliation.
Talia: Pretty sure that’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.
I smiled at my phone and headed inside, already looking forward to next week. To more time with two alphas who were becoming genuine friends. To building something with Talia that felt bigger and better than anything I’d imagined when I first came back to Hollow Haven.
To pack. To family. To choosing each other every single day.
Some things were worth being uncomfortable for. And This was definitely one of them.