The door to her shop opened and the little bell dinged. Casey didn't look up from the counter she was cleaning. "Sorry, we're closed for the day."

"Good thing I'm not here to buy a dress," Beta Brandon said.

She looked up, startled it was him. "Beta, what can I do for you?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Brandon." He crossed his arms, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"What can I do for you, Brandon?" She asked again.

A few years ago, Casey had been half in love with Night Walker's Beta. Her infatuation with him had started before she had shifted and she didn't understand why a bond was preventing them from being together. Even after she shifted, her feelings for him had grown stronger. One night, at the Pack's annual bonfire, she had approached him and tried to kiss. She was just sixteen, he twenty-six. He politely turned her down and took her aside, explaining to her why they couldn't be together. Being so young, she still didn't understand why they couldn't be together, at least for the time being.

Six years later, she was embarrassed with how she had behaved. It was hard to look at him without turning into a blushing mess.

Brandon dropped his arms and walked to her side, leaning against the counter that she had just cleaned, causing her to scowl. "I don't want anything. I just want to know how you're holding up."

She dropped the rag and stood next to him. She ran a hand over her tired face. She shrugged. "I don't know. I just- I don't know."

He wrapped his arm around her and she put her head on his shoulder. "I know you've probably heard it a million times, but I'm sorry. I wish there was something we could have done to prevent it."

"There's nothing you could have done."

"Yes, there was. Those damned Rogues snuck into our Pack and planted those bombs and we didn't catch a whiff of their scent." He let go of her and started to pace the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up everywhere. "If we had been more prepared, if our patrol was better, stronger, we could have prevented this."

"Brandon, you couldn't have known this was going to happen. It is not your fault. It's no one's fault but the Rogues. So, don't blame yourself for something you have no control over," Casey countered.

He scoffed, "There is always something that could be done to prevent something from happening. No one just catches it until it's too late. We could have done something. We were just too late to pick up on it."

She sighed and leaned back against the counter. "Fine, whatever. Don't you have things to do? You are Alpha for the time being."

She gave up trying to convince him. She wasn't in the mood to argue. Quite frankly, she just wanted to go home and cry. She missed her brother so much. But he would want her to go on, so she would try. It would take time, she knew that. She just wished it didn't hurt so much. It would be so much easier if it didn't hurt.

"Casey, I'm sorry, I just- I'm sorry," he said.

She looked up at him. "It's okay. But really, I'm sure there are things you need to be doing. You don't need to be here with me."

Brandon sighed and nodded. "There are, I just wanted to check on you."

"Well, now you have. I'm doing fine as you can see. Now stop slacking and go do your job." She pushed him away slightly, teasing.

He returned her smile and nodded. He threw his hands up in the air. "I'm going I'm going. If you need anything, you can always come to me."

"I know, now get out."

Casey collapsed against the counter once he left. She took several deep breaths, centering herself. She didn't want to go into a sobbing fit again. She had done that enough. She pushed off the counter. She walked to the back of her store, putting up the rag and grabbing a mop. She was opening tomorrow so she needed to make sure her shop was in pristine condition, though she doubted many would visit her boutique. Many wolves were still in mourning, no one really wanted new clothes, much less dresses.

But cleaning would take her mind off of things so it was what she would do. Casey knew it wasn't healthy, to distract yourself. But at the time being, it was the best thing to do.

She filled up a bucket with water and cleaning solution. She took it to the front of the store and started to mop. When her head started going places she didn't want to visit, she turned on some music.

It was a good distraction until she heard her brother's favorite song play. The mop left her hands and she fell to the floor in tears. She sobbed. It was ugly. Her nose was running and her wails filled the store. She cried even after the song had passed and others had played. No one came. No one popped in their head to see what the problem was, as everyone was all dealing with their own problems.

She got control of herself, after how much time, she didn't know. She wiped away the wetness on her cheeks and picked up her mop. She dunked it in the bucket and started to mop.