Page 24 of Pack End Game

The possibilities are endless.

Freddie halts midway down the long hall and throws open a narrow door tucked between two regular-sized doors on either side. He beams as he looks at me expectantly for a reaction.

It's a closet.

An empty closet.

The small, white closet only has an empty shelf and a metal hanging rod inside. There aren't even clothes on the rod, not that many could fit. There's enough room for about three winter coats or one really uncomfortable nervous breakdown.

Now that I think about it, this closet might have some use for me after all.

"This space," Freddie announces grandly, "is one of the crown jewels of the house."

I blink at him. "The closet?"

"Yep." He steps inside and turns in a slow circle, tucking his chin down so that he can just barely fit inside without hitting his head on the shelf. "This closet shares a wall with Spencer's office."

My gaze drifts to Spencer, whose posture has gone rigid.

Freddie lowers his voice to a dramatic whisper and beckons me closer with his finger. When I lean in, he shares, "If you stand in here and press your ear to the wall, you can hear every word said during the therapy sessions he has every other Tuesday. All of his regular phone calls, too, but those usually aren't as interesting."

Spencer closes his eyes for a moment, his lips forming a thin, straight line that looks pained. "I knew it," he grumbles.

For the first time, Freddie seems to remember that I'm not his only audience. He pales a little as he steps out of the closet and defensively says, "I don't do it all the time. Only when I'm worried that you're being too uptight."

"You always tell him he's too uptight," Zak points out.

"Exactly." Freddie nods his head like this proves his point. "How am I supposed to help keep our alpha relaxed if he's always too uptight to admit what's really going on in that pretty head of his? So, I come in here and check in on him. Most people would probably thank me for being so devoted to your mental health."

Spencer shakes his head, clearly annoyed but genuinely not surprised. "Freddie isn't great about respecting boundaries."

Freddie nods along thoughtfully, the most serious I've seen him look so far. "I guess some people might feel that way, but to be fair, boundaries are really more a thing for other people. People who aren't as in tune as I am with the needs of others."

I choke back a laugh.

Spencer and Zak don't even crack a smile.

Freddie continues, "Actually, a psychic told me recently that I might be an empath. I signed up for her monthly class to help me channel my empath absorption."

"A psychic?" Zak echoes, his expression turning concerned. "Where did you find this psychic? And please tell me you paid for those classes with a credit card, so we can try to get a refund."

"Don't be ridiculous," Freddie tosses his head indignantly. "I was at a street fair, and she only accepted cash. Why would I ask for a refund?"

Spencer groans. I finally lose control and can no longer hold back my need to laugh. The sound bubbles out of me before I can stop it, a high-pitched squeal of amusement before I slap my hand over my mouth to cut myself off.

Freddie brightens; my laugh is the only validation he needs.

"See?" he gloats to the others. "The closet is a prime feature."

He's absurd. Deeply absurd. But at least his love for the closet feels human and comfortable. Maybe I'm being too hard on the house.

My doubt only lasts a second.

When I look down the hallway, I notice the gray furniture peeking out from the open door at the end of the hall, and I'm reminded again of the problems with this house. There's no character. No signs of real life.

An empty closet doesn't really redeem the rest of the house. My amusement gives way, letting the lead settle in my stomach again. My chest feels so tight that I can't get enough air. I suck in a ragged breath.

Zak moves to my side and looks down at me with worried eyes before I can hide my reaction. His gaze is soft as he takes my hand and gently pulls me back down the hall from the way we came. "Come on," he says gently. "I'll show you my favorite part of the house."