Page 61 of Mane Rival in Store by Milly Taiden

“If you nuke her ex from orbit, you become her ex.” No warmth. No humor. The unflinching honesty that was the reason Rune had made him beta and never once regretted it. “She’s afraid of men with money controlling her life. You stomping in with your checkbook—buying her building, restructuring her lease, solving her crisis with Sterling resources—is the thing she’s running from. Doesn’t matter that you mean well. The shape of it is the same.”

“I’m not him.”

“I know that. She needs to learn it. And the way she learns it is by watching you not do the thing every cell in your body is screaming to do.” Dekel gripped his shoulder. Hard. “The toughest call you’ve made as alpha was sparing Kasper during the challenge. He wanted the Pride for himself when Erik stepped down—thought he could take it by force because your father was old and you were new. He was wrong. You spared him anyway. This is tougher. This is watching Creed hurt the woman you love and choosing restraint because that’s what she needs from you. Not force.”

His hands were fists. His hair was vertical—every strand standing at full attention, a display so uncontrolled that Dekel glanced at it.

“Your hair looks like a blond porcupine having a panic attack.”

“Not the time.”

“It’s slightly the time. You look unhinged.” Dekel squeezed his shoulder once more, then released. “You want to help her? You wait. You let her come to you. You do not buy the building. You do not call the lawyers. You do not deploy a single resource without her asking. And when she’s ready—and she will be, because that woman is too brilliant and too stubborn to let Creed win twice—you offer your help. Not your rescue. Your help. There’s a difference.”

Rune closed his eyes. The animal beneath the composure fought the restraint—fought it hard, the growl rising and falling in his throat like a tide, his body vibrating with the suppressed need to act, to strike, to wrap his resources around her like a wall and dare anyone to breach it. He breathed. Pulled the animal back by inches.

She closed the door.

She closed it because the last man with money and access made her afraid of what proximity costs.

Be the exception.

“How long.”

“As long as it takes.” Dekel crossed to the stockroom fridge—the one that was technically for staff holiday party supplies—and pulled out two beers. Handed one to Rune. “Drink this. Don’t call anyone. Don’t go next door. Don’t do anything except sit here and be the kind of man who can hold still when holding still is the hardest thing in the world.”

“That’s a terrible motivational speech.”

“It’s an accurate one.” Dekel sat on the opposite crate. Opened his beer. “Besides, Breezy and I have already started a secondary channel. Intelligence sharing. She’s handling the legal response; I’m monitoring the Creed Capital filings from our end. We’re the two people who run their lives, and we’ve decided to pool resources. Think of it as the support staff taking matters into their own hands while the principals have their emotional crisis.”

“You and Breezy have a secondary channel?”

“She texts in complete sentences with correct punctuation. I find it strangely attractive.” Dekel took a sip. “We’re handling it. You’re handling yourself. Lark is handling Lark. Everyone has their assignment.”

They sat in the stockroom and drank in silence while the afternoon light shifted through the high windows and the wall between the stores stayed closed.

At three-thirty, his phone lit. Aspen.

Aspen: Something is WRONG. Lark’s Instagram has been silent all day. She posts DAILY. She has NEVER gone this long without a story. I’ve checked six times. Also her last post was a photo of a concert poster and the caption was three heart emojis and now the post is GONE. She deleted it. RUNE. What happened?

He stared at the screen. The poster. She’d posted it. Photographed it and shared it with her audience and then—when the letter arrived—she’d taken it down. She’d removed the evidence of his gift because the gift was next to the threat now, the Sade poster and the eviction notice in the same drawer, and she couldn’t look at one without seeing the other.

Rune: I’ll handle it.

Aspen: HANDLE WHAT? WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Aspen: Rune Aleksander Sterling if you don’t tell me what’s going on I am getting on the subway and coming to the store RIGHT NOW and I will make a SCENE.

Dekel, reading over his shoulder: “Tell her or she’ll show up. You know she will.”

He typed.

Rune: Fallon Creed bought the building. He’s tripling Lark’s rent. She’s not speaking to me.

The typing indicator appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. A long pause—extraordinary for a woman who typed at the speed of adrenaline.

Aspen: I am going to destroy him.

Aspen: With my HANDS.