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Nancy says something—I’m not sure what—and then I hear her footsteps pad softly across the grass, followed by the sound of the kitchen door opening, then falling closed.
All the while, I stare at Noah’s face in the darkness. I still can’t see him. But I can smell him.
His scorched scent has a sickly sweetness to it. Like burnt caramel.
It’s shame. He’s regretting this already.
I reach for him, but he backs away before I can touch him, leaving my hands to grapple blindly in the darkness. “Noah, I don’t know what—”
“Go,” he orders thickly, pushing me away gently when my hands finally find him. “We’ll talk later.”
Ignoring the hollow feeling in my stomach, I nod and run toward the dark house.
19
Blackout
Hetty
The kitchen is completely dark except for Nancy, Cleo, and Beth, who are all holding candles and bobbing around like fireflies.
Whispering furtively with each other, they rush toward me as soon as they hear the door close, all talking at the same time.
“Your grandmother’s taken a turn for the worse,” Nancy says worriedly. “Omega Sage and Omega Cypress are downstairs with her now—”
“You should have been at the dinner! Alpha Sage lost his mind and attacked Elizabeth Cypress’s ugly mate,” Beth declares with awe. “Alpha Wyatt threw him out of the room.”
“The lights went out,” Cleo says anxiously, “and Don can’t get them to come back on.”
“Cleo cried like a baby when they went out,” Beth whispers in my ear conspiratorially. “But I was quiet as a mouse.”
Cleo, overhearing Beth’s whispered claim, begins to argue with her, but I stop listening. My heart pounds like a drumbeat, and my breathing sounds loud and labored even to my own ears.
I’m grateful it’s dark. No one can see my face or my bare head. They don’t know what I was doing outside. Who I was with…
Right?
“I need to see my grandmother,” I finally burst out loudly. They all stop talking at once and watch me, wide-mouthed and shocked, when I whisper, “Now. Please.”
Of course, Cleo’s the first to move—the big-hearted idiot. “You’re right,” she soothes me gently, holding her candle high. “C’mon. I’ll lead the way.”
I forget about the others as Cleo drags me downstairs, her sweaty hand holding mine tightly. The basement is even darker than usual, and Cleo’s candlelight only reveals a few inches in front of us. She chatters the entire time—mostly about the dinner and what it was like when the lights went out.
“That blonde omega fainted,” she whispers fervently. “Can you imagine? I was as brave as can be, though, despite what Beth said…”
I zone out as we make our way down the dark hallway, even managing to push aside thoughts of Noah—the feel of his hard body, his soft lips, the way his eyes glow in the moonlight—much to the annoyance of my ghost.
Shut up, I tell it. Your grandmother is ill.
When we finally reach the door, Cleo lets go of my hand and steps aside. And when I find myself unable to move, my feet glued to the floor, she all but pushes me into the room.
“Good luck!” she whispers with excessive brightness as she closes the door behind me.
I swallow my fear and stare into the dark room. Isolde and Elizabeth are kneeling next to Gran. Even though they’re each holding a candle, I don’t see their faces.
I only see Gran.
She looks like she’s already dead—her skin gray, her mouth slack, and her hands completely still. The only reason I know she’s still alive is because of the wretched noise she’s making.
