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I expect Rill to jump to action, explain some long-lost alpha instinct to me that I’ve stifled after years of living under repression and denial.
“Nah,” he says instead, waving his hand in dismissal. “It’s impossible here.”
“What’s impossible?”
“Usually, the mark serves as a strong connection between mates, but something about Goldenrod interferes with your natural instincts. I don’t know what.” He shrugs. “It’s also why you’re all such weak assholes.”
I arch a brow, unconvinced. “Then how do you explain what just happened to me?”
“I dunno,” he says, holding his hands up defensively. “But it’s true. Liz and I can have full on conversations with our thoughts outside Goldenrod, but here, we have to be standing on top of each other to make it happen.” He sneers, looking around the trees. “This place is a fucking prison.”
“You’re wrong,” I grit out, clenching my fists. “I know what I felt.”
“Hey, what did we find out about me being wrong?” he quips. “It never happens.”
I can’t stifle my growl. When I told him that Marcus reacted with complete and utter disbelief at the news that Goldenrod was soon to be under attack, he was predictably obnoxious about it.
Dawn can’t be more than a few hours away. Without help from Marcus, I argued that we needed to go from house to house, alerting the people of Goldenrod of the coming attack.
But Rill argued that was an impossible task—preposterous, in fact—and we should just focus on “killing the pigeons.”
Now, that argument is all but forgotten as I close my eyes and think back to Hetty. My mouth dry, my heart bangs in my chest like a drum as I replay the vision.
It was dark, but she was definitely in a bedroom. Nothing like any of the rooms in those ramshackle cabins near the water, though. No, it was luxurious. Thick carpet. Large bed with a long canopy.
My eyes pop open. Stella’s bed had a long canopy atop it. An image of Hetty pouring me coffee pops into my mind. Laughing, she described how much dust it collected and what a pain it was to clean. I told her to make Oli or Beck do it, but she refused.
“Hetty’s here,” I mutter, my heart pounding in my throat as I turn to face Rill. “In Goldenrod with Stella. They must’ve snuck away from camp.”
Urgently, I begin to search the faces of the loitering alphas for Nick. But he’s not here, I realize. He went with Pike outside the fence. There’s no time to find him. I’ll have to save them both.
Rill guffaws. “No, they’re both at camp—safe. There’s no way they would have been able to sneak away from my guards.”
“You don’t know my little sister.” I shake my head and start backing away from him. Now that I’ve decided what I need to do, every inch closer I get to Sage House, the stronger my resolve grows.
“I have to go,” I mutter, turning toward the dark trees. “My mate needs me.”
“I thought Goldenrod needed you,” he calls out flatly. “And more importantly, I need you.”
“She’s more important than all of you put together,” I mutter, inhaling the damp air. I can barely pick up the scent.
Warmth. Vanilla. Home.
She is here. Most likely, to rescue the betas, I realize. Of course.
Damn it, Hetty. Why couldn’t you let it be?
My heart thumps wildly as I begin to jog forward, my feet sinking into the mud. It’s as if I’m being pulled toward her by a will not my own.
A heaviness falls from my body—that cloak of civility I felt so weighed down by in Marcus’s house. Something tells me that it’s gone for good.
“Noah!” Rill calls out my name, but it sounds like he’s far away. “If Hetty is here, the only way to save her is to kill the pigeons. Nobody in Goldenrod can hurt her like they will.”
“No, you’re wrong,” I say softly under my breath. He probably can’t even hear me. He’s in a different world now. “Someone here is hurting her, and now I have to kill him.”
And then, my feet, along with my heart, move me toward Sage House. I leave everything else behind. My honor. My decorum. My patience.
I won’t need any of it to do what I need to do next.
