14. ZANA

Chapter fourteen

ZANA

Something’s wrong with Ethan. I don’t need to ask him—I can feel it. It’s in the way he moves, the way his scent twists just slightly, like he’s searching for something he can’t name. It’s been less than a day since we talked about Reid, but it’s already clear he’s struggling to keep it together.

I glance over the top of my laptop, pretending to focus on the mountain of emails in front of me. This divorce case I’m working on is brutal—two Alphas tearing each other apart over territory and petty grievances—but honestly? I couldn’t care less right now. My eyes keep drifting to Ethan, curled up in the living room, buried in the chaos of his makeshift nest.

Blankets, pillows, and plushies are strewn everywhere like some colorful explosion. He’s got his laptop balanced on his knees, his big glasses sliding down his nose, and a pencil sticking out of his mouth like he’s auditioning for the role of Adorable Mad Genius.

And he is adorable. Absolutely, heartbreakingly adorable. But the tension in his body is impossible to miss and it makes my chest ache. He keeps fidgeting, grumbling under his breath as his fingers fly over the keyboard. Every so often, he snatches the pencil out of his mouth to scribble something in the notebook beside him, only to toss it down and go right back to typing.

Watching Ethan is one of my favorite things. The way his brows furrow when he’s deep in concentration, how his tongue pokes out at the corner of his mouth when he’s trying to figure something out—it’s mesmerizing. Normally, I’d let him work through whatever’s bothering him at his own pace, but today? Today, he’s wound tighter than I’ve ever seen, and it’s starting to wear on me too.

He’s working on a website design—one of his many freelance gigs—but it’s obvious his heart’s not in it. There’s an edge to his movements, a frustrated energy that hums through him like a live wire. I know him too well to think this is just about work. No, this is about Reid.

He shifts again, letting out a frustrated huff and I can’t help but smirk a little. “You okay over there?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.

“Mm,” he grunts, not even looking up. That grunt says everything: No, I’m not okay, and also don’t talk to me right now.

Great. Nonverbal mode. That’s one of his two frustration settings, the other being ' talks until he runs out of oxygen'. Neither is particularly fun to deal with, but at least the chatterbox version is entertaining. This version just makes me worry.

I try to focus on my emails, but it’s useless. Normally, I’d be locked in, calculating my next move and drafting arguments to keep my client from losing their metaphorical shirt. But with Ethan only a few feet away, radiating restless energy, my brain refuses to cooperate.

I watch out of the corner of my eye as he shoves his laptop aside and grabs his notebook. He scrawls something in it—jagged, angry strokes—then huffs again and picks up his laptop like it personally insulted him. Without a word, he gets up and shuffles over to the couch where I’m sitting, his slippers making little shh-shh sounds on the floor.

Before I can ask what he’s doing, he clears a spot on the couch—read: shoves my carefully arranged files aside like they’re trash including my laptop—and plops himself right into my lap.

“Hey, baby.” I laugh, caught between surprise and amusement. My arms instinctively circle his waist, pulling him close. “What’s this about?”

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look up from his screen. He’s already hunched over his laptop again, typing like the fate of the world depends on it.

“Needy, are we?” I tease, resting my chin on his shoulder. I glance at the screen, trying to figure out what he’s working on, but he angles it away from me with a little grunt of annoyance. Oh, we’re in that kind of mood, huh?

I shift slightly, tightening my grip on his waist as I nuzzle against his neck. “You know, if you wanted attention, you could’ve just said so.”

Another grunt. Translation: Shut up, I’m busy.

I smile softly, brushing my cheek against his. His scent is sharper than usual, the restless edge still lingering, but I can feel it start to soften beneath my touch. It’s subtle at first, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. He’s not there yet, but he’s close.

“There we go,” I murmur, my voice low and soothing. I press another nuzzle to his neck, slow and deliberate, scenting him. His body sags a little more, his head tilting slightly, leaning into me without even realizing it. “Good boy,” I whisper and that’s when I feel him finally relax. Just a little. Just enough.

He lets out a small sigh, his fingers pausing on the keyboard. “I’m not needy,” he mutters, his voice muffled but soft. “I just… wanted to sit here.”

“Uh-huh,” I snort, smirking against his shoulder. “And it had nothing to do with the fact that my lap is clearly the comfiest spot in the house?”

He huffs again, but there’s no real heat behind it. “It’s not that comfy,” he grumbles, shifting a little to get more comfortable. The contradiction is so obvious.

“Whatever you say, baby,” I murmur, holding him tighter. My hand rubs slow circles over his stomach, the tension in him slowly melting away.

Ethan lets out this soft little whine, barely audible, as his head tips to the side, giving me better access. He’s still focused on his laptop, typing away with that frenetic energy only he can pull off. At least he’s not vibrating out of his skin anymore.

“Better?” I ask, pressing a kiss to his temple.

He grunts in response, but there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. Just a flicker, but I’ll take it.

Ethan shifts in my lap, leaning back into my chest as his fingers tap away. The glow of the laptop screen reflects off his glasses, and every few seconds, he mutters under his breath—half thoughts, little frustrations spilling out like steam from a pressure valve. I tighten my hold on him, grounding him, and he sags just a little more against me.

But while I’m holding him, my mind is racing. Turning over the pieces. The puzzle. The problem. Reid.

I’ve been over the laws so many times they’re practically etched into my brain, and no matter how I look at it, we’re in a tight spot. Pack Betas, once contracted, are practically untouchable unless their Alphas decide to release them. And the Wilhelms? They don’t release anything. They’re the kind of pack that digs their claws in deep and refuses to let go. Wealthy. Connected. Dangerous.

It’s not just a legal issue. It’s the time factor. Ethan’s met Reid, even if it was brief, and now his biology is kicking in, turning that connection into a biological need. It’s not just about wanting Reid—it’s about needing him. That tether, that bond, will tighten until it’s unbearable. And it’s not just Ethan feeling it.

I feel it too. That pull. That gnawing connection. It was faint at first, something easy to brush aside. But then I caught his scent when I visited the diner this morning and everything clicked into place. Almond and sandalwood. Warm and earthy, with something raw and unguarded underneath. It was undeniable. Reid isn’t just Ethan’s mate—he’s mine too.

The smell of coffee and grease lingers in the air, Margie watching me with that no-nonsense look she gives everyone who crosses her threshold. She sets a knit beanie on the counter, worn and frayed at the edges.

“He left this,” she states. “Didn’t realize it until he was long gone.”

I pick up the hat, turning it over in my hands. It’s nothing special, just a basic beanie with loose threads and faded fabric. But the moment my fingers brush against it, I feel it. That scent. My stomach flips and I bring the hat closer, inhaling deeply.

It’s him.

It’s Reid.

The realization slams into me so hard I can’t breathe. He's not just Ethan’s mate—he’s mine too. The connection thrums in my chest, faint but steady, and for a moment, I forget where I am.

“You okay?” Margie’s voice pulls me back, and I nod, setting the hat down like it’s suddenly too hot to hold.

“Yeah,” I lie, my voice steady even as my heart pounds. “Just thinking.”

She crosses her arms, leaning against the counter. “He didn’t look too good when he was here,” she says quietly. “Black eye. Bruises. Like someone worked him over good.”

Anger blooms in my chest, but I do well to keep my emotions in check. “His pack?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Margie nods, her expression dark. “I didn’t want to say anything over the phone, knowing Ethan would be there. And I can’t say for sure, but if you’re thinking about getting involved, you better be ready. Reid’s got trouble following him like a shadow. The Wilhelms are not an easy pack to deal with.”

I’m ready. I’ve been ready since the moment I realized Reid wasn’t just Ethan’s other half but mine too. But getting him out of the Wilhelms’ grip isn’t going to be easy. They’ll fight tooth and nail to keep him, and if they even suspect we’re trying to take him, they could make his life worse.

Ethan doesn’t know the half of it. I haven’t told him how deep this mess goes. I haven’t told him about the risks, about the hoops we’ll have to jump through. He’s too focused on Reid, on the idea of having him close, to see the battle ahead. And honestly? I don’t want to be the one to dim that hope.

For now, I stay in the moment. Ethan’s warm weight in my lap, the soft hum of his frustration as he works. I press a kiss to the top of his head, lingering there as he mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” I whisper, my lips brushing against his hair.

He grunts, still focused on his laptop, but his cheeks flush pink. It’s adorable, the way he pretends not to care. Unable to help myself, my hands dip a little lower, playing with the hem of his pants. He doesn’t acknowledge me, just shifts enough so that I have better access. Ethan’s scent blooms as he wiggles in my lap, silently edging me on.

So, I take.

I slip a hand into his pants, wrapping my fingers around his cock. A breathy gasp tears from his throat as I give it an experimental stroke, Ethan’s hips bucking against my grip. “Alpha,” he breathes as I continue. The laptop discarded, he holds onto my thighs on either side of him, his head falling back against my shoulder. A chuckle falls from my lips as I kiss his cheek, picking up my pace until he’s fighting against my hold on his cock.

I continue to kiss and nip at his cheek, moving down to give the same treatment to his jaw, and then my bite. His body shudders as he comes, liberally coating my hand and his pants. A whine soon follows as he sags against my chest, angling his head for a full kiss. I gladly oblige, laughing as he tries to dominate the embrace. My hand squeezes his cock, Ethan squirming in my lap before finding a way to untangle himself and stand up.

His eyes are brighter now, his expression less heavy but I know it’s a fleeting emotion. Still, I play into it, grinning as I suck a finger coated in his release into my mouth. The scent of his arousal thickens in the air as I take my time, tasting every last bit of my Omega. He’s basically vibrating at this point, for an entirely different reason than earlier.

“Let’s get you a shower and then we go visit your sister. It’ll take your mind off of everything because goddess knows you need a break.” He’s about to fight me on that when I stand and grip his chin, trying to hold back a smile. “If you’re a good boy, then I’ll fuck you with that knotty dildo you got for me for my birthday.”

His eyes widen comically before he dashes down the hallway to the bathroom attached to his nest. Seconds later, he’s rushing back toward the living room to drag me with him.