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I gag and burrow my head into Alex even further, needing him—needing them—to fix this one for me. I can’t do it. I really can’t.
This one, this goes beyond me.
My daughter...
“Fuck, princess,” Topher gasps, and I don’t know what happens in the scene behind me, but Alex growls once, and the tension in the room starts to calm down. The anger is slowly fading away, but I don’t know what it’s being replaced with. “I’m—fuck. Baby, please?—”
“Maia, darling, we never?—”
“Calm the fuck down, because your wolves are only making this harder for her, and then tell me what’s happened,” Alex demands, keeping a tight hold on me. One arm is wrapped around me, supporting me, despite the weak knees, and the other is rubbing the back of my head. Max is close to the surface, the growls that are much deeper and more comforting.
“The night we brought Ryan’s shi—stuff over here,” Topher says, “Ben cleared it away once we were asleep. The journal? We thought he had it all this time.”
“But he doesn’t.” Alex has gone still, his hand just holding my head in place as I silently sob into his chest. The pressure in my chest has eased but not properly. They’re tense again, and the weight is even firmer now that Alex has joined in.
Three wolves furious at the breach of our home. Three alphas who are aware they’ve not protected their sanctuary.
What if... what if they did more than take Ryan’s journal? They could’ve... they could’ve taken her from me.
“No,” Ben says as calmly as he can. “I thought you had it.”
“Well, fuck,” Alex hisses. He growls low, and I can hear the anger in his tone. I let go and try to back away, but his bright silver eyes dart down to mine. “Mate will be safe.”
“I didn’t realise that I wasn’t,” I whisper, hiccuping out another sob. “They could’ve... Phoebe?—”
“Ethan clearly found a way into our house without us knowing,” Topher says angrily. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, and I try to calm myself down.
“It’s impossible,” Alex says, shaking his head. “There’s no way he could’ve got past us all. Not on a night we were all home.”
“The napkin.” Ben’s words are confusing, but he sounds so surprised.
“What fucking napkin?” Alex asks, and I flinch. He lets go of me but gently leads me over to the armchair, supporting me. He grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa that smells like the four of them and places it over my lap. “Breathe, little butterfly. We are going to figure things out, but we need you to be calm, first.”
I nod, trying to quell the shakes and the tremors. A plan will help. A plan will make it all better.
“Usually, it’s me who gets those stupid reminders,” Ben says, smirking at me. I roll my eyes, but I can’t joke the way he is.
My chest is burning, and whilst breathing is instinctual, it’s hard right now.
“Seb has Phoebe, and she is safe,” Topher says, crouching down in front of me. He takes my hand in his, the sparks flying between us. Alex sits on the arm of the chair and takes my other hand, and I close my eyes and let the comfort they’re offering through the barely formed bond wash over me.
They’re saying that Ethan broke in.
That he stole something of Ryan’s.
His diary.
“Do you... do you really think he came into the house?” I whisper.
“Our house,” Topher says, squeezing my hand. “But I think it’s a likely probability.”
“I don’t understand how he knew...” I trail off, looking between them. “Or how you missed it.”
“Don’t worry, darling, you don’t need to dig that knife in,” Ben mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “That falls to me.”
“To us,” Topher says, turning to look over at Ben. “It shouldn’t be possible.”
“But it has been before,” Ben says, turning to Alex. “At the doctor’s office, there was a napkin with no werewolf scent attached to it.”
