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No.
I refuse to do that. I refuse to be that woman, that omega.
Maybe I won’t leave completely, but I sure as hell am not going to just wait for them to come back.
That’s way too pathetic.
The bag slides off my shoulder and hits the floor. That seems to settle the omega in my chest a bit, realizing that I’m not leaving the pack for good.
I’ll get my car, head to a store and buy some new soap and descenter spray.
If they come home while I’m gone and find the penthouse empty?
Well, I’m okay with that.
Chapter 13: In which I come close to a panic attack
I am fucking exhausted.
Driving up to Lake Kilrose to put a new security system on my omega’s little cabin shouldn’t have taken as long as it did. My original intention was for Ethan and me to go up, add a few cameras and put in a simple fucking alarm system. One that’s enough to scare assholes away who might get too close.
But once I got started, I couldn’t fucking stop. I ended up basically turning her bathroom—the only room in the house with a door—into a panic room. Ethan wasn’t much help because he got distracted by doing a deep dive into everything Sadie, not the least of which is her health records, which he actually seems to have trouble finding.
So it’s a hell of a lot later than I thought it would be by the time we get to the penthouse. The first thing I notice is the scent of our omega, cherry pie à la mode. It makes my mouth water with the need to taste her again. I love that it’s the first thing I can smell when the elevators open. That she’s permeating our home, making it her own. I imagine her flitting around scent marking everything, claiming the space.
The second thing I notice is that it also smells like someone cooked something meaty and savory. My stomach grumbles with the reminder that I haven’t eaten since we raided Sadie’s kitchen for sandwich fixings at lunch and now it’s well after ten pm.
The third thing I notice is that it’s fucking quiet as hell.
I glance at Ethan, who has a frown on his face. “Where the hell is everyone?” he asks rhetorically. I grunt out a reply, because I sure as fuck don’t know.
We agreed that someone would be in the apartment with Sadie at all times. “Maybe they’re in bed?” I suggest, but that’s doubtful. None of us are ever asleep before eleven. It’s the nature of our business. Logan or Maddox should be here. The TV should be on, or music should be playing. There should be some amount of life in the apartment, but it feels like a tomb.
I wander into the kitchen and open the fridge, pausing when I see all the leftovers neatly stacked and labeled. Mashed potatoes. Gravy. Roasted green beans. “Holy shit! Beef wellington!” I snag the container out and yank the lid off, staring down at the uncut confection. Not a single piece of it has been eaten.
Fuck.
Sitting under a dome of glass on the counter tucked away by the refrigerator, I see an equally untouched chocolate cake, complete with shards of tempered dark and white chocolate.
Double fuck.
My stomach ties itself into knots as I look around again, taking in the table that has six placemats and six napkins set on it. There are candles in the center of the table and a little bouquet of herbs, like Sadie had wanted to put out a floral centerpiece but had worked with what she could find.
Because there is no doubt in my mind that our omega made us dinner and set the table. That she tried to create a scene where we could get to know her and her us, and that somehow, we all fucking left her alone.
“What’s wrong?” Ethan asks, coming over to look at what has me so upset. “Shit.”
I slide the container onto the counter and practically throw myself around the island and toward the tiny room Maddox put Sadie in. I also find my bond with her and prod it, trying to send her reassurance and… not love, it’s too early for that, but affection. Yeah, affection. I feel that for her. So much goddamn affection.
She’s got her side of the bond locked down tight, though, even when I tug more insistently. I don’t blame her. Omegas are notoriously emotional, especially with feeling like their pack has rejected them.
“Sadie?” I call, sliding to a stop in front of her bedroom door, Ethan right on my heels. “Vixen?”
No answer. I lift my hand to knock, but then reach for the handle instead. I won’t be able to just stay on this side of the door, even if she responds. The need to see her is too intense. Besides, she might be sleeping. I’ve heard bonding can really drain an omega of her energy.
Ethan lets out a little laugh at my eagerness as I push the door open, but it chokes off when the light from the hall falls on an empty bed.
His hand grips my shoulder, likely feeling the start of panic through our bond. Gone. My omega is fucking gone. “Calm down, Luca. She could be anywhere in the apartment. It’s an enormous space. Maybe she and Logan hit it off, and they never made it to dinner.”
