Thirty Nine
Creeping through the bushes felt like I was starring in a bad spy movie. Guilt gnawed at me worse than a hangry wolf. Here I was, playing secret agent on my own packmate, all because I chickened out on telling Logan about his little romance with Sage.
Peeking through the leaves, I watched Sage lead Brock deeper into the woods. Talk about awkward. This wasn’t exactly how I pictured breaking the news.
Suddenly, Sage leaned in and planted a kiss on Brock. My jaw practically hit the forest floor. Before I could even process that, my traitorous fingers fumbled for my phone, snapping a pic faster than a squirrel on Red Bull. Hey, evidence is key, right?
A tangled mess of emotions wrestled inside me anger, hurt, and a weird flicker of… relief? Like, major relief that Brock wasn’t a lying cheater. But the image of him smooching Sage, the raw emotion on her face, left a sour taste in my mouth.
They pulled away, foreheads touching, whispering like teenagers on a first date. I strained to hear what they were saying, feeling like a total creep.
“Brock,” Sage said, her voice all breathy, “we need to talk. I, uh, I can’t hold it in any longer.”
“Sage,” Brock replied, sounding equally stressed, “what’s going on here?”
“It’s about us,” she blurted, then took a shaky breath. “Brock, I love you. Like, a lot. Like, way more than a packmate kinda love.”
The words hung in the air, thick enough to spread on toast. My breath caught love confession? No way!
A long silence stretched between them, then Brock spoke, his voice gentle but firm. “Sage, listen,” he said. “You’re awesome, like, the best friend a guy could ask for. But… my heart’s already taken.”
Sage’s face fell faster than a dropped ice cream cone. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill. Ugh, this was getting messy.
“Who?” she croaked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Doesn’t matter,” Brock said, avoiding her gaze. “The point is, it’s not you.”
Sage stared at him, her expression a mix of hurt, anger, and maybe even a hint of confusion. Then, with a sniffle and a muttered curse, she stormed off, leaving Brock standing alone like a lost puppy.
I watched him for a moment, a weird mix of emotions swirling inside me. Relief, for sure, tinged with a touch of sadness for Sage. But then, another thought struck me who was Brock’s mystery love interest?
The answer hit me like a bolt of lightning. Me. Brock just cryptically said his heart was with me. I couldn’t wish for any better day.
Relief whooshed through me like a rogue wave as Sage stomped off into the woods, leaving Brock behind. My fingers, still shaky, shoved my phone into my pocket, the evidence of their kiss a secret burning a hole in there.
Suddenly, playing secret agent felt dumb. Guilt gnawed at me a big, toothy guilt. Seeing Brock reject Sage, that raw vulnerability in her eyes… it messed with me more than I wanted to admit.
The pack house beckoned, a haven of familiarity compared to the drama that just unfolded. I snuck back, the woods quiet after all that yelling.
Reaching the house, I padded down the familiar halls, the only sound the occasional creak of floorboards. But as I neared the living room, voices snagged my attention. Who was up at this ungodly hour?
Peeking around the corner, I froze. Sage, red-rimmed and puffy-eyed, stood in front of Logan, who looked like he swallowed a lemon.
“I, uh, had to tell you,” Sage mumbled, voice thick with sniffles. “Amelia and Brock… they’ve been, like, totally hooking up for weeks!”
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. My secret, out in the open, Logan the alpha staring it down. Panic surged the consequences I hadn’t thought of hit me like a runaway moose.Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.
But Logan surprised me. No explosion, no rage-wolf transformation. He just stared at Sage, his face a mask.
“Huh,” he finally said, cool as a cucumber. “And how long have you known about this, Sage?”
“I, uh, just found out,” she mumbled, staring at her shoes. “I saw them… together.”
Logan snorted, a humorless sound. “Appreciate the intel, Sage. But honestly? Time for you to bounce.”
Sage’s head snapped up, disbelief written all over her face. “Bounce? But… why?”
“Because, Sage,” Logan said, his voice turning colder than a winter wolf’s nose, “you’re, like, the least trustworthy person ever. You spilled Amelia’s secret and tried to stir up pack drama. Not cool.”
He took a menacing step forward, eyes narrowed. “Pack your bags by sunrise, Sage. And don’t come back. Ever.”
Tears streamed down Sage’s face as she bolted out of the room. I felt a twinge of sympathy getting exiled sucked, even if she was a drama queen.
But as silence settled, a new fear crept in. What about me and Brock? Was exile my fate too?