Page 55 of Found by the Pack

I nod slowly. “Then that’s what you tell people, if they ask. Keep it simple. Let the rest burn itself out. Half the town will have moved on to the next shiny rumor by Friday.”

Boone mutters, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“No,” I agree, “but it means you don’t blow it up into something bigger.”

The room quiets after that, the tension still there but less sharp. Gus trots over to Gabe, nudging his hand until he starts absently scratching behind his ears.

It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.

The quiet stretches just long enough for me to think maybe we’ve managed to sidestep this thing. But I can feel it humming under Boone’s skin, a coiled thread of agitation that isn’t going anywhere unless we dig it out.

“Alright,” I say, taking the beer back from him before he crushes the can in his hand. “Let’s just talk about it straight. Boone, why exactly are you so protective all of a sudden? Because this… this is more than looking out for someone new in town.”

Boone leans forward, forearms braced on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I think her old pack was hurting her.”

That pulls me up short. Gabe stops scratching Gus’s ears.

“What do you mean, hurting her?” he asks, his tone sharpening again.

Boone looks up, his eyes steady in that way they get when he’s decided something is true. “You’ve seen the way she flinches sometimes. I saw bruises when I helped her after the accident. Not fresh, but bad. And she’s careful about what she says, like she’s checking every word before it leaves her mouth. I’ve seen that before.” He pauses, jaw working. “You don’t walk away from that without it leaving a mark.”

I let that sink in. Boone’s not one for exaggeration. If he’s convinced, it’s because he’s been paying attention.

Gabe shifts, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “I’ve seen some of that too,” he admits. “Didn’t know if it was my imagination, or just her being new here. But…” He exhales, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah. She keeps her guard up. Every time I’ve been around her, she’s polite, but it’s like she’s always calculating her exits.”

That matches what I’ve noticed, though I haven’t said it out loud. I think back to when I found her after the accident—the way she tried to downplay her injuries, refused the hospital, her eyes darting like she expected someone to come around the corner any second.

Boone takes a long drink of beer, then sets it on the table with a solid thunk. “That’s why I don’t like this gossip. If people start talking, start watching her too closely, she’s gonna bolt. And if she’s running from something…” He shakes his head. “I’m not letting her end up back in the same situation.”

Gabe watches him for a moment. “I wasn’t trying to make her uncomfortable. She needed help with her supplies. We grabbed lunch, that’s it.”

Boone lifts a brow. “Lunch, holding ladders, spending half the afternoon with her?—”

I cut in before it gets sharp again. “And you told her about the bonfire?”

Gabe shrugs. “Yeah. Invited her. Thought it’d be good for her to meet more people, make some friends.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” I say, because it isn’t. “But you have to admit, Boone’s got a point—if she’s carrying that much history, she might not be ready for crowds. You can’t push her.”

He nods, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “Wasn’t trying to. Just… she’s different. Quiet, but not like she’s shy—more like she’s just holding back. And I don’t like thinking about what might’ve made her that way.”

Neither do I.

I lean back, nursing my beer, and let my thoughts drift for a moment. The idea of an Omega being hurt by the very people who were supposed to protect her—it knots something in my gut.

I think about Camilla.

I’d have done anything to keep her safe. Anything. That’s what being bonded means—you take on the responsibility of making sure your Omega is cared for, defended, given space to thrive.

You don’t break them down. You don’t put fear in their eyes.

I can’t imagine looking at someone who’s yours and choosing to hurt them.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I glance at Boone, see the same tightness in his expression, and I know he’s thinking something similar. Maybe not about Camilla, but about the principle of it—how wrong it is.

“Look,” I say finally, “we’re all circling her in our own ways. Boone’s watching her like a hawk, Gabe’s making sure she’s got what she needs to work. I’ve been keeping tabs since theaccident. We’re all… involved. So maybe instead of tearing into each other about who’s doing what, we keep the focus where it belongs—on making sure she’s okay.”

Boone huffs, but it’s not a disagreement. “Fine. But we keep it quiet. No more rumors.”