Cassius (The Wildflower Series Book 3)

by Rachelle Mills

  I’m calm.

  Be calm, Cash.

  Kennedy

  Chapter 19

  Emotions Cling on Soft Lips

  It’s mid-afternoon when Cassius calls me into my room.

  “The other night and the next day,” he whispers, “it was inappropriate. I’ll try not to let it happen again. It got ahead of me again.” Cassius seems uncomfortable and shifts around on his feet, his eyes trained on my ears. He walks out without anything more to say. It’s been the most he’s said to me in the last two weeks besides awkward thank yous and “do you want something, Treajure?” before he turns his back to face the wall while I slip underneath his bed in the middle of the night when the weight around my neck makes it unbearable to breathe anymore.

  Every night is a fight to stay on top of the bed, and every night is a failure when I slide underneath his bed, promising myself I’ll stay in my bed tomorrow.

  Everything becomes all noise and growls downstairs, a commotion of hard stomps on wood floors.

  “Cash, back up,” Alpha Clinton demands as his body fills the space of the front door.

  “I’m not going to do anything.” There is a measure to Cassius’s word; they feel real this time. Different from the last time when Clayton showed up to go into the Wilds of Valentine, he challenged his father’s decision about letting Clayton eat. It’s not his pack, it’s not his right to do that, and Alpha Clinton told him it’s the right thing to do. We will always do the right thing no matter how hard it might be. The look Cassius gave his father felt like a deep betrayal; it pushed his father back slightly, and his mother had to come to her mate’s side and tell her son that right now it hurts, but in time you’ll understand that it’s the right thing to help those weaker and suffering. His mother also told him that it was her decision to allow Clayton to go to the Wilds and not his father’s. So if you are mad at someone, be mad at me. Her chin went up, waiting for Cassius to say something.

  He didn’t.

  Cassius moves away to stand in front of the big bay window, creeping toward him until I’m slightly behind him but can see outside.

  Clayton gets out of the SUV and looks around, inhaling. It’s hard to hold the grimace in when Hazel gets out from the passenger side. She’s dressed in a small t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops. Her hair falls past her shoulders, and she’s wearing sunglasses.

  Caleb gets out from his minivan, and Tommie jumps out, opening the side door for Addie.

  “That’s Clayton’s new Beta?” Alpha Clinton asks Dallas, who is trying to muscle his way around his father, who is stuck in the frame.

  “Dallas, settle down.” His father shoves an elbow underneath the ribs of his son.

  “You knew he was coming. This shouldn’t be a shock.” The Alpha’s voice is controlled, but there is a huff of breath out when his son tries again to muscle the jam of his father from the door frame. He moves him to the side but barely.

  “Not in the house.” Luna Grace now comes from the other end of the house. Alpha Clinton settles tight muscles down, and Dallas seems to stop flexing.

  There’s not a crack of white in the blue sky when we all step outside. The sun’s harsh, and I can’t stop squinting while looking at the wolves milling around until Luna Grace and Alpha Clinton greet them formally.

  Clayton’s got a stiff back as Dallas approaches behind his father.

  “It’s nice to see you again.” Luna Grace greets Clayton first.

  “Thank you for having us, and thank you for allowing Tommie to come here and be given a chance to let his Wild out.” Clayton is serious and extremely polite. He wears his hair like the available males of the Valentine Pack do. He’s nothing like he is when he has to handle Cassius.

  “Not a problem.” Alpha Clinton’s voice has the visitors not moving forward. They all stay where they are, inspecting the big silverback male, who has a dusting of grey at his temples—he’s holds a commanding shape.

  “Welcome to the Valentine Pack.” The Luna looks on at the rest of them.

  “This is Tommie. He’s my new Beta.” Tommie wears his hair short, cut to his scalp, and he’s as big as Caleb.

  “This is Hazel and Addie. They’ve decided to join the pack.”

  The Alpha nods his head to each of them. The Luna goes to Hazel. “Nice to meet you, Hazel.” There is a quick press of cheek together. Hazel keeps her chin raised, shoulders even; there is a swing to her cherry drop earrings.

  “Addie, nice to meet you.” Addie’s cheek presses to her. She doesn’t meet Luna’s eyes, and her shoulders do curve around slightly.

  “I’ve brought you some fruit wine.” She hands the Luna the gift, and a smile stretches wide across her face.

  “Thank you, I’ve never had fruit wine before.”

  “Tommie, enjoy yourself out there and let your Wild lead you.”

  “Thank you, Luna.” Tommie gives a small nod, head bowed, cheeks flush.

  “We were going to have a barbecue tonight. Would you like to stay?” The Luna offers, and I can see the bristle along Dallas’s spine.

  Clayton and Dallas are both looking at each other. “Thank you, but we need to get back. We wanted to see Tommie off.” Clayton looks down the driveway when Ken and Dee come running toward their father, and Chance follows behind them toward his father with arms outstretched.

  Cassius picks both of them up and nudges at their cheeks before putting them down.

  “They look like her.” Clayton moves toward the twins, but Cassius becomes all teeth.

  A warning growl pushes through his chest, and Clayton stops, drops his hand. “Sorry.” An apology that I never heard come from Clayton before.

  Chance points his finger at Clayton. “Who’s that?” No one answers him.

  The look in Clayton’s eyes could make me cry mercy for him. All these times I’ve seen him, I never knew how much devastation he held inside him. I knew he was hurting, but I never thought he was in pieces.

  “We need to go.” Clayton turns toward the two females, but his entire body freezes. Coming down the driveway is Rya in a light flowered dress. She’s nothing but flowing hair and pregnant belly.

  Clayton holds his hands behind his back, and nothing breathes excepts for Clayton. There is a soft flush that holds to the back of his neck.

  “Clayton.” Rya acknowledges him first.

  It takes a few moments before I can see movement from Clayton’s chest.

  “Rya.” One word sounds of thick sorrow, hard pain.

  Rya’s not smiling—neither is Dallas.

  “We were going.” Clayton backs himself away, creating a giant space. “I just came here to drop off Tommie.” His voice sounds faster than normal; usually with Cassius, he has a slow drawl.

  “I—” He pauses, a hard blink from Clayton—his pieces are falling around him. “I’m happy for you, Rya.”

  Clayton turns his back on them before any more can be said and walks toward his car. Hazel comes up beside him.

  “Are you all right?” Hazel questions.

  “I’m fine.” The door shuts, and Clayton is gripping the steering wheel, tight, with white knuckles before he turns it on.

  Addie and Hazel both hug Tommie before getting inside with Clayton.

  They pull away—it’s quiet until Caleb opens his mouth. “Barbecue?”

  Dallas and Rya walk into the house holding hands. Cassius is already inside with the twins.

  Tommie passes by with a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Hi, Treajure.”

  It makes me smile. He’s remembered my name.

  They sit around the table and talk with Tommie. The pups are wild and showing off for the newcomer. I take Chance and the twins outside when more wolves show up at the house for the gathering. Friday evening bean bag toss and sippers to whoever can make it after work.

  Warm sand slips through my fingers in the sandbox. The kids are playing with their dump trucks, and more little ones join them. It’s not only a gathering for the adults and juveniles,
but for the pups as well.

  Dee’s burying my feet underneath a mountain of sand.

  I’m watching Cassius, who is sitting in a lounge chair drawing in his book. There’s no more beard on his face, and it’s hard to get used to looking at his neck, all exposed as if waiting for something to happen.

  The summer heat gets under my skin. My entire body feels flushed, overwhelmed with warmth.

  “Specs, you want to play?” Cassius calls. He’s now standing next to one of the boards for the bean bag toss. His face glistens in the sun, he’s wearing a few shirts, but I notice he’s not wearing the ring anymore. His hand seems naked without it.

  Pulling my feet out from where they were buried, I keep my shoes off. The grass feels cool underneath the soles of my feet. He has no shoes on his feet; his toes are painted purple.

  “You’re not going to win this time. This is my day,” he teases when he tosses me my bags for the game.

  We stare at each other from the opposite ends of the yard. “Females first.”

  I remember the first time he coaxed me to play. There were so many wolves and overwhelming sounds that I couldn’t stop shaking. I lost the first game, and the second one, but after a while, the noise was something that was held in the background because all that I could concentrate on was Cassius and the edge of his smile every time I sank a bag in the hole. It was our first high five, hand slapping hand, and I didn’t wash my skin that night. It was my secret to smell Cassius’s scent that clung to my hand underneath his bed. He asked me if I was catching a cold because I was breathing too hard. It wasn’t normal, he said, and had Dallas check me out at the clinic in the morning.

  He blinks when I push the hair that’s stuck to my neck. It feels damp when I tie it up but a lot cooler having it off my back.

  When some females walk by, they say hi to the both of us, but they treat Cassius different now. They go into his space, and some even put a hand on his hip or touch his head. I don’t like it, and at times I have to stop the Wild from intervening. She wants to claim him as her territory; she doesn’t like those that trespass.

  Cassius smirks when he lands the first point, and my smirk is just as keen when I land a point.

  “You think you’re going to beat me, Specs?” My body bends to that voice, that shuffle of sound. I’m terrified that he’ll notice, he’ll see right through me and know how much I want him.

  The music is turned up, a favorite song of Rya’s. She’s dancing in the grass with Dallas, who holds her as close as her pregnant belly will allow.

  “Nice shot.” A compliment that makes the Wild strut in my skin.

  “Did you see that, Specs? I’m coming for you. It’s my time. Winning time.” He heckles me through a crooked smirk.

  The party blurs, and it’s only Cassius and me. The sweat drips down my back; I can feel it run down between my chest. The sun is starting to set.

  Cassius at times will sway to the music, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him this loose, not as tied into himself. He catches me staring—I’m unashamed.

  My heart hammers. I’ve had a gap in reality.

  He looks away.

  I can taste blood from the bite down on my tongue.

  The next three throws he misses, and I sink all of mine. He looks uncomfortable now.

  The party is full-on, most of the pack is here, and when I win the game, he gives me my prize in the form of a high-five and, “Good game.” When he sits down at an empty picnic table, a few females sit with him, with full plates. They start talking with red lipstick smiles.

  This is what it feels like to drown, to suffocate on the last breath.

  Caleb is at a table with Tommie and Carson, who are sitting close to each other. I take a seat beside Caleb, not wanting to leave the party, but not wanting to stand by myself watching Cassius being fawned over by the reds of the pack.

  “Do you mind if I sleep over tonight, Caleb?” Carson can’t stop the blush on his face as he asks. Tommie rubs at his head as if he has hair there.

  “What do I look like, some sort of bed and breakfast?” Tommie leans back from the table. He isn’t used to Caleb, but Carson is ready for him.

  “I’ll put twenty-five on the counter when I leave.” Carson sips his beer, but his eyes keep falling on Tommie.

  “You need to do the dishes. I’m not your domestic.”

  “Done.” Carson is quick with that word.

  “Does anyone need another?” Tommie stands with an empty bottle in his hand.

  Caleb’s eyes squint at him. “Nice line.”

  “Your brother introduced me to that line. I like it, a lot.”

  “Of course he did. It was my line before he stole it. Right, Carson?”

  “Well, it looks like you aren’t using them anymore, so…” His brother shrugs his shoulder. Caleb has this pout that looks puppyish on a full-grown male.

  “Treajure, you want one?” I’m a little shocked Tommie touched my shoulder when he asked.

  “Get her a whiskey vodka. She does well on them.” I shake my head no. Caleb laughs. It’s been a big joke, and for a long time he called me the puker. His mother told him to stop and he told his mother it’s only because he loves me that he teases me like a sister. I felt bad for shanking him the next day, but he had it coming.

  “She’ll take water, thanks. I’ll take a beer.” There’s something violent in the way Cassius is looking at Tommie.

  “Push over.” Cassius sits down and places a plate of food between us.

  Everything seems to get quiet.

  “Treajure, Crane’s having a party tonight. You should come with us.” Carson and Caleb both eye Cassius.

  A half not so funny laugh, a pause, then, “No, she’s not going to that kind of party.”

  Caleb snickers, and I can see how it clings underneath of Cassius’s skin.

  “I got us some food.”

  We are sitting side by side, close enough for our thighs to touch. I’m still. Not moving even to eat.

  “Open your mouth.” Cassius’s voice is low, and his brothers blatantly stare.

  “What? She has a habit of not eating.” He talks to them as if it makes perfect sense. I’ve never been hand-fed by him before.

  I take a piece of warm steak from his fork and swallow it down before he holds out the fork for me to take. Both of us start to eat off of one plate, and his brothers haven’t said a word.

  “Here.” Tommie hands me a bottle of water, and Cassius takes it from him, opens the cap, and sets it in front of me.

  “Thanks.” It comes out tight from Cassius. He’s making me confused. I didn’t know he didn’t like this male.

  “Are there problems?” Tommie leans into the table. Cassius’s eye contact accelerates into violence. Carson places a hand on Tommie’s back. Caleb stands up, stretches out his back.

  “Cash, go for a walk.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. He’s a guest.” Caleb’s eyes bleed into Cassius. He’s second for a reason. Sometimes he’s scary, really really scary.

  “The guest needs to understand males don’t touch females who aren’t wearing red. Do you see any red on her?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did you touch her?” His voice is a coil of rage waiting to unravel.

  Cassius stands.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was yours.” Tommie stays standing, and I see Carson wipe the side of his mouth.

  “She’s not mine.” He sounds frustrated.

  “In this pack, if a female isn’t wearing red, you can’t touch her, no matter how much you want to. Respect their choice.” Cassius claims complete control of the conversation. He’s all teeth and muscle before Dallas’s hand squeezes his brother’s shoulder.

  “Treajure, let’s go dance. Cassius obviously needs to lick his fur down. I’ll show you all the moves I’ve taught him.” Caleb has my hand, pulling me up from the table.

  “She’s not going to dance with you.”
>
  “Why? It’s not like you’re going to ask her to dance, Cash.” Caleb’s sharp-toothed now. It’s rare to see him so pointed, challenging.

  Cassius’s eyes terrorize his brother’s, and I think for a moment they might fight.

  “Let’s go, Cash.” Dallas has a disgruntled growl that shifts Cassius in the opposite direction of his brother.

  “I thought he was going to go for your throat,” Carson says.

  “Me too, but she’s worth that fight.” Caleb isn’t touching me anymore. A distance created. The party is dwindling down. I’m a little drunk; Caleb snuck me a few whiskeys as we cleaned up the mess. He told me it’s time for bed when my glasses kept slipping off my face. Cassius went inside a while ago with the twins. He’s probably already sleeping.

  He comes out of the twins’ room. When I step into the hallway away from the stairs, I fidget with my glasses.

  “I saw him paw you. I didn’t like it.” His voice seems on edge, barely containing something that’s making his brow furrow and his hands dig into his pockets.

  A sound splits through his throat, bordering on a growl.

  “You took your earrings out, and it’s hard to follow the rules. Sometimes it gets ahead of me, but if I have to try to follow them, he can too.” He sounds strained.

  We’re close enough now that I can feel the sturdy heat. It’s a dependable thing I can lean myself into.

  I’m not sure if I heard him right, but my thighs did. They are shaking. I can feel the tremors and the effort it takes to stay standing.

  Sometimes it gets ahead of me…

  “I’m sorry, Treajure. I’m not good at this. I had this plan, and now, you took those earrings out, and I’m not sure what to do now.” His hands dig deeper down into his pockets, held there like a restraint.

  “I want to respect you, but I want—” His mouth seals up. He pulls a hand out to scratch at his clean-shaven face before it settles back inside the deep pocket.

  “I’m sorry, I’m going to bed before I say or do something stupid. Goodnight.” His voice sounds hoarse, heavy. He doesn’t close his door all the way; he leaves it open a crack before the bed frame groans with his weight.