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I don’t want to think about it.
I force myself to take in deep, slow breaths, allowing her muted scent to wash over me.
But I still can’t sleep.
All I can think about is Skylar, and how she’s out there in need of help.
Sweat beads down my forehead as I exhale shakily, willing myself to calm down.
“Fuck,” I hiss, clenching my teeth. I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling, feeling anything but relaxed.
My Omega’s out there without me.
“Fuck, Skylar, I’m sorry,” I whisper into the air. “Just hold on for me.”
Finally, after a good hour of my heart racing and struggling to get comfortable, I move off the couch and head down the hallway.
Fuck it. I need to be closer to her.
When I open her bedroom door, I’m bowled over by the scent of Omega.
Would she think it’s creepy, knowing that I’m pushing back the covers of her bed to crawl into it?
Probably.
But fuck it.
Her bed brings back memories—memories of how she tasted under my tongue and felt under my hands.
How she fucking smiled at me and the sound of her laughter.
I grab her pillow and put it over my face, inhaling.
Yes. I’m definitely fucking creepy.
But it’s the closest I can get to her.
Mine.
And as I breathe deeply, allowing her sweet scent to wash over me, my heartbeat finally slows.
My head stops hurting.
I’ll find you, I think. I’ll find you, and I’ll slowly kill the person that took you.
My hands stop shaking and I allow my body to relax. I move the pillow until it’s wrapped in my arms.
I pretend it’s Skylar.
Finally, I drift into a dreamless sleep, allowing myself to find a moment of peace.
7
LANDON
“This motherfucker,” River mutters as he looks at the house in front of us. “Prick.”
We’re in a nicer neighborhood than Skylar’s and surrounded by houses with massive perfectly manicured front lawns and luxury cars in every driveway.
