Waiting

13

Damien POV

I was in an excellent mood when I left the hospital.

The takeout bags hung from both of my hands, warm against my palms, the scent of grilled meat and spices drifting faintly through the plastic. It had taken less than twenty minutes to find a decent place still open and bring everything back. Simple. Efficient. Exactly the kind of thing people remembered when they were overwhelmed and someone quietly stepped in to help.

Summer had asked for food.

And I had delivered.

Reliable. Present. Necessary.

Those were the traits people leaned on when they were hurting. Those were the traits people remembered later, when grief softened and they looked back on who had stood beside them.

By the time I pushed through the waiting room doors again, my thoughts were already several steps ahead.

Tomorrow I would check in on her.

Offer to drive if she needed it.

Bring coffee.

Stay steady.

Keep showing up.

Eventually, she would see what had always been obvious.

That I was the one she could depend on.

The one who would always be there.

The one she would eventually belong with.

I stepped fully into the waiting room expecting to see her sitting beside her parents where I had left her earlier.

Instead, my footsteps stopped.

“What the f**k?”

The words slipped out under my breath before I could stop them.

Summer wasn’t sitting with Maria and Esteban.

She was across the room.

Leaning forward in her chair, her hands moving animatedly as she talked.

And she was laughing.

Not the strained, polite kind she had been forcing earlier out of exhaustion and grief.

Real laughter.

Bright. Unrestrained.

Her head tipped back slightly, her shoulders relaxed in a way that told me she had completely forgotten the hospital around her.

And she was looking at him like he was the only person in the room.

Some guy I had never seen before.

Sitting close. Too close.

Like he had already decided that space belonged to him.

Listening to her like she was something rare.

My mood didn’t dip.

It dropped.

Like the floor had vanished beneath my feet.

Who the hell was he?

He leaned slightly toward her, elbows resting on his knees, his attention completely fixed on whatever she was saying. There was nothing showy about it. No obvious flirting. No exaggerated charm.

Just quiet focus.

And the worst part?

She was looking at him the same way.

Something low vibrated in my chest before I could stop it.

A growl.

I swallowed it immediately, forcing the sound back down before anyone else noticed. My jaw tightened hard enough that the muscle ticked beneath my skin.

I had been gone twenty minutes.

Twenty.

And somehow that had been long enough for her to forget everything else in the room.

The plastic bags crinkled faintly as I stepped farther inside.

She didn’t notice me at first.

That bothered me more than it should have.

I had just been her solution.

Her hero.

And now I was background noise.

“Damien.”

Maria’s voice drew my attention away.

She was standing halfway from her chair, offering me a tired but genuine smile.

“Thank you for going to get food,” she said gently. “You didn’t have to.”

Of course I did.

Summer asked.

That alone was reason enough.

“It’s nothing,” I replied smoothly. “I figured everyone could use something warm.”

Before Maria could say anything else, Simon appeared beside me and lifted the bags from my hands like he was doing me a favor.

“Finally,” he muttered.

He didn’t open them right away. Instead, he carried them toward the seating area with the quiet authority of someone who had already decided he was in charge of distributing dinner.

He dropped into the chair beside Maria and placed the bags on the small table between them.

Then he began unloading containers like a man preparing for battle.

“If humans are going to take six hundred years to process paperwork when somebody dies,” he said, cracking open the first lid, “the least they can do is provide decent food.”

He took a large bite immediately.

Completely shameless.

Then leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” he said around the mouthful. “Who ordered the carne asada? Because this is actually insane.”

Esteban let out a tired chuckle.

Maria shook her head softly.

Simon kept eating.

Between bites he glanced up at me.

Then across the room.

Toward Summer.

Toward him.

Simon followed my line of sight.

“Who’s she talking to?” he asked casually, already reaching for another tortilla.

“I don’t know,” I answered.

Too quickly.

Too sharply.

I forced my voice to soften.

“Probably someone from school.”

But it didn’t look casual.

It didn’t look random.

She leaned toward him as she spoke.

And he let her.

Not touching her.

Not claiming her.

Just sitting there like he didn’t need to try very hard at all.

Like her attention had already settled on him naturally.

That unsettled me more than if he had been obviously flirting with her.

Because subtlety was dangerous.

Subtlety slipped under people’s defenses.

And then Summer laughed again.

Bright.

Unrestrained.

The realization burned in my chest.

She hadn’t laughed like that with me yet.

My claws pressed faintly into my palm as my wolf stirred beneath the surface of my skin.

Mine.

The thought rose automatically.

Instinctively.

Mine. Whether she understood that yet or not.

I inhaled slowly and forced the tension back down.

I wouldn’t make a scene here.

Not in front of her parents.

But something about the situation felt wrong.

Esteban had known for years that I intended to pursue Summer when she was old enough.

Hell, I had spent the entire morning speaking with him about moving the family into the pack house.

Positioning.

Planning.

Ensuring I would have constant access to her while she adjusted to the idea of us.

And now this?

A stranger sitting where I should have been.

Laughing with her.

While Esteban simply watched?

It felt like betrayal.

I stood.

“I’ll go say hi,” I said evenly.

Simon paused mid-bite.

Maria’s eyes sharpened.

Esteban simply watched.

And I walked toward them.

“What the hell, Summer? Why are you over here? Who is this?”

She blinked up at me, startled.

Then glanced at the stranger beside her.

He stood slowly.

Calm.

Polite.

Not intimidated in the slightest.

For a moment the air between us tightened like the seconds before a summer storm.

I stepped closer to Summer.

Not aggressively.

Just enough.

My hand settled lightly at the small of her back.

Casual.

Familiar.

Possessive.

Her body stiffened slightly beneath my touch.

Another behavior to correct later.

The stranger didn’t move.

Didn’t react.

He simply met my stare.

Steady.

Composed.

Interesting.

Either incredibly stupid.

Or incredibly dangerous.

“Okay…” Summer said slowly, looking between us.

“Did I miss something?”

Neither of us answered.

I broke eye contact first and looked down at her.

My expression softened instantly.

“Nothing,” I said smoothly. “Just meeting your… friend.”

The stranger gave a small controlled smile.

“Pleasure.”

It didn’t feel like one.

Summer sighed.

“Well before you so rudely came over and started… whatever this is—let’s start over.”

She gestured between us.

“This is my friend Arie. Arie, this is Damien.”

Friend.

The word landed first.

Then she kept talking.

Rambling.

That was what she always did when she was nervous or trying to smooth something over.

Friend.

Then she kept talking, explaining who I was as if the clarification mattered.

“Damien’s my dad’s boss.”

That was it.

Not Alpha.

Not the man who had spent the afternoon making sure her family was taken care of.

Not the one who had stepped in when everything started unraveling.

I had even left to get her favorite food.

Just her father’s boss.

Something inside my chest went very still.

My wolf slammed hard against the inside of my skull, a violent surge of instinct that wanted to rip apart everything within reach.

Interesting.

So that was how she intended to present me.

In front of him.

Arie laughed softly.

Then he pulled her into a hug.

My wolf surged forward so violently my vision flashed white for half a second.

Control nearly slipped.

But I forced it back down.

Arie leaned close and whispered something in her ear.

I didn’t hear the words.

But I saw the effect.

The blush spreading across her cheeks.

The way she laughed again.

Comfortable.

Open.

She liked him.

That realization settled somewhere deep in my mind, quiet and cold.

A problem.

Nothing more.

Problems could be addressed.

And I was very good at fixing problems.

My thoughts moved quickly, assembling small observations the way they always did when something wasn’t unfolding the way I had planned.

The way she spoke to me just now.

The way she dismissed me in front of him.

The way she stepped away when I touched her.

The way she was suddenly comfortable leaning into someone else’s space.

Small things.

But small things had a way of growing into larger problems if they weren’t corrected early.

Summer had always been spirited.

Independent.

Quick to challenge.

Normally I found those qualities… appealing.

But standing here now, watching her lean into another man like that, I realized something important.

Spirits could be guided.

Independence could be shaped.

And with enough patience, habits could be changed.

Arie extended his hand toward me.

“For the sake of starting over—hey man, it’s nice to meet you.”

I didn’t take it.

“Yeah, whatever. Summer, come on. Your family is waiting.”

“What the hell, Damien?” she snapped.

“That is not how you treat someone I just introduced you to.”

Another observation, another correction. I mentally filed this quietly beside the others.

Arie stayed calm.

“It’s alright, Summer.”

Of course he would say that.

Now he looked reasonable.

Measured.

And I looked like the aggressor.

A mistake.

“I’ve got to go anyway,” he added quietly.

Summer’s expression shifted immediately.

She didn’t want him to leave.

Arie opened his arms.

And she stepped into them without hesitation.

Her cheek rested against his chest.

Then he kissed her forehead.

My wolf exploded inside my skull.

“Come on, Summer.”

My voice cut in sharply.

I reached for her arm.

She stepped away.

“No.”

“Stop being such a jerk.”

Then she slipped her arm through his.

“I’ll walk you out.”

And they left.

And neither Maria nor Esteban stopped them.

I stayed where I was long after the hallway swallowed them.

My gaze dropped to the chair where Summer had been sleeping earlier.

The stuffed wolf I had given her sat on the floor beside it.

I picked it up and set it back on the seat.

Maria noticed.

“Damien, are you hungry?” she asked gently.

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed.

Perfect timing.

“Excuse me,” I said politely.

I stepped into the hallway.

Simon’s voice was quiet when I answered.

“Take a minute.”

I returned to the waiting room.

“Something came up at the office,” I said smoothly. “I need to head back.”

Maria nodded.

“Of course.”

I looked toward Simon.

“Stay here with them.”

He nodded once.

And I left.

⸻

Outside, the evening air carried the sharp salt of the ocean.

I closed my eyes and focused.

Strawberries and sweet lemon zest.

Her scent drifted faintly toward the shoreline.

I followed it until I reached the boardwalk.

The boardwalk vendor stands were mostly closed for the evening, their canvas awnings hanging low over dark wooden counters. A few stray lights still glowed above them, throwing long amber shadows across the planks.

I stepped between two of the stands and stopped where the shadows were deepest.

From there the beach stretched out below me in a clear, uninterrupted view.

And they were exactly where I expected them to be.

Summer and Arie sat near the waterline, the last light of the sunset spreading across the ocean behind them in streaks of gold and violet. From this distance they were little more than silhouettes against the fading sky, but I didn’t need to see their faces to understand what was happening between them.

I could read everything in the way they moved.

The way she leaned toward him when she spoke.

Like she had already forgotten who was supposed to be standing there instead.

The way her hands moved, animated and expressive.

The way he turned his body slightly toward her, his full attention fixed on every word leaving her mouth.

Like he already understood the value of what he was sitting beside.

Then she laughed.

Not the polite laugh she gave strangers.

Not the careful one she had been forcing earlier in the waiting room.

This one was real.

Bright.

Alive.

The sound carried faintly up the slope of sand and drifted across the boardwalk with the ocean wind.

My jaw tightened.

She looked… relaxed.

More than relaxed.

Alive in a way I hadn’t seen from her all afternoon.

Her shoulders had loosened.

The grief that had been weighing on her earlier seemed to have lifted, even if only for a moment. She leaned back on her hands for a second as she laughed again, the wind pushing strands of her hair across her face before she brushed them away absently.

Arie said something I couldn’t hear.

She leaned closer to him to respond.

Close enough that their shoulders almost touched.

She was familiar with him and they liked each other.

And for the first time since walking out of that hospital waiting room, something inside me shifted toward her.

Anger.

A sharp, bitter edge of it that I hadn’t expected.

Because as I stood there watching them, another thought began forming slowly in the back of my mind.

After everything I had done for her today.

After the way I had stepped in to take care of her family.

After the way I had made sure she didn’t have to worry about anything while she grieved.

This was how she repaid me.

By sitting on a beach with a stranger.

Laughing.

Leaning toward him like he belonged there.

Like he had earned that place.

The pressure building inside my chest felt almost physical now, like something was tightening slowly around my ribs.

My wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless and irritated by the same thing that was beginning to gnaw at the back of my thoughts.

Mine.

The word surfaced automatically.

Instinctively.

And yet she sat there beside someone else like that claim meant nothing.

My hands curled slowly into fists at my sides.

The urge to walk down that beach and drag her away from him was so strong it nearly pulled me forward.

But I stayed exactly where I was.

Because control mattered.

Control was the only thing keeping this moment from turning into something ugly.

And I had far too much to lose by letting anyone see that.

Then she laughed again.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

The sharp buzz cut cleanly through the sound of the waves.

Summer didn’t even realize the line she had just crossed.

But I had already made the decision.

I would make sure she never forgot it.

But she would.

I pulled the phone from my pocket without taking my eyes off the beach.

Simon.

Of course it was Simon.

I answered.

“What.”

“They just left the hospital,” he said. His voice was calm, measured. “They said they’re heading home.”

My gaze never left the sand below.

Summer had leaned slightly closer to Arie again, her hands moving as she spoke.

Still laughing.

Still completely unaware.

“Mmm,” I said.

A brief pause stretched between us.

Simon knew exactly what I was doing.

He had been the one to give me the exit from that waiting room.

“You want a pickup?” he asked.

Direct.

Efficient.

My eyes shifted briefly toward Arie as he turned his head toward Summer again, listening to her like she was the most interesting thing in the world.

The sight of it sent another surge of irritation through my chest.

“I’m at the boardwalk by the South lot,” I said.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

The call ended.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket but didn’t move.

Not yet.

The wind shifted slightly, carrying her scent faintly up the slope of sand. I couldn’t help but take a deep breath while I closed my eyes, hoping it would help me center myself.

Strawberries and sweet lemon zest.

My wolf stirred again beneath my skin.

Hungry.

Possessive.

For another long moment I stayed exactly where I was, watching them from the shadows of the boardwalk stands.

Memorizing.

The way he leaned toward her.

The way she smiled at him.

The way she looked completely unaware she was being watched.

I memorized his face.

Headlights swept across the parking lot behind me.

Simon.

Only then did I finally turn away from the beach and walk toward the car.

When I climbed into the back seat of the car, a faint scent brushed against my senses.

Strawberries and sweet lemon zest.

My brow furrowed.

That scent didn’t belong here.

Simon’s car smelled like leather, road salt, and the faint trace of whatever greasy food he’d devoured earlier.

But not this.

The sweetness lingered for another second.

Soft.

Familiar.

My head turned slowly toward the empty seat beside me.

The stuffed wolf sat there alone.

I reached for it.

My gift.

Returned.

For a moment I didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

The air inside the car shifted.

I could feel Simon in front of me without looking at him—his heartbeat steady, his breathing measured. Calm on the surface, but attentive.

He was watching me in the rearview mirror.

Of course he was.

A Beta always watched his Alpha.

Especially when the Alpha went quiet.

Something inside my chest went very still.

Then my wolf stirred.

Not wild.

Not reckless.

Just… awake.

Claws slid forward from beneath my nails with a quiet scrape.

Leather creaked softly as I reached for the toy. The fabric was soft when I picked it up, worn slightly from where her hands must have held it, and it unmistakably carried her scent.

I lifted it slowly to my face and inhaled.

The scent filled my lungs.

For a second the beach flashed through my mind again.

The sunset.

Her laughter.

The way she leaned toward him.

Then the waiting room.

The way she stepped away from me.

Her defiance and refusal to do as she was told.

My jaw tightened.

My wolf pushed forward harder.

Not a full shift.

Just enough that my shoulders broadened slightly beneath my jacket.

My claws lengthened further.

Sharp and precise.

I held the toy by the head.

My thumb pressed into the stitching behind one of its glass eyes.

Then slowly—very slowly—I dragged my claws down the length of its body.

The fabric split open with a soft tearing sound.

Rip.

White stuffing spilled across the leather seat.

Neither of us spoke.

Simon knew better.

I ran my claws down it again.

Rip.

Another seam opened beneath the pressure.

The material parted easily, threads snapping one by one.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Controlled.

My wolf liked the sound.

Liked the way the fabric gave way beneath my hands.

Stuffing drifted across the seat like pale feathers.

Summer had crossed several lines tonight.

The way she spoke to me.

The way she dismissed me in front of him.

The way she stepped out of my reach.

The way she leaned toward someone else like I wasn’t standing there.

My claws pressed deeper into the toy.

Rip.

Another tear opened through the plush body.

Those things would need to be corrected.

Not with anger.

Anger was messy.

Corrections required patience.

Structure.

Consistency.

Wild things could be trained.

Broken down.

Rebuilt.

One correction at a time.

Until they understood exactly where they belonged.

The wolf’s head tore free in my hands.

For a moment I simply stared at it.

The glass eyes reflected nothing.

Stuffing drifted slowly across the back seat.

Silence filled the car.

Then Simon spoke.

“Alpha?”

His voice was calm, but careful.

Breaking the stillness.

“Where would you like to go?”

He knew.

I could hear it in the way he spoke.

Simon understood exactly who he was dealing with right now.

Not his friend.

His Alpha.

My wolf pushed forward.

The answer came out low.

Short.

“Hunt.”

Simon didn’t argue.

But he didn’t obey immediately either.

A good Beta never did.

He inhaled slowly.

“Then we’ll head to the pack house,” he said evenly. “You can hunt the pack lines tonight.”

The engine turned over.

Simon shifted the car into drive.

Slow.

Deliberate.

As the vehicle pulled onto the road, the shredded remains of the stuffed wolf shifted across the back seat.

Fabric.

Stuffing.

And the faint lingering scent of strawberries and sweet lemon.

Simon didn’t look back.

He didn’t comment.

But he knew what it meant.

The road stretched dark and quiet ahead of us.

Beside me, the ruined wolf lay scattered across the leather.

A gift returned.

A lesson waiting to be learned.

I rested my head back against the seat and closed my eyes.

The game had started now.

And I had never been a man who liked to lose.