No more asinine Alphas for me, thank you.
Bastian
Come home. Right now.
Orsen’s message was short and to the point, not unlike his usual messages. He wasn’t one for idle chitchat, overtaxed on the best of days. Unfortunately for him, it also meant that I didn’t rush when I saw his text.
“Orsen wanting us back?” Greylen asked, grabbing his duffel bag.
I nodded, not looking away from the message. “Yep.”
We were camping on the outskirts of the horde lands. It was always useful to check the perimeters for any suspicious activity, but it was also a good excuse to get awayfrom the rest of the horde. We loved them dearly, don’t get me wrong, and we wanted to do everything we could for them, but sometimes… their pitying looks were too much.
Like, all the time, really. And this way, I don’t snap at them.
Six years after losing our mate, they were only just starting to get the message that we’d never want to find another one, particularlyme and Orsen. Not that the others were eager, by any means. No, it was more that Orsen and I were the most vocal about it.
Emmy had been it for us.
Just thinking of her hurts.
“I wish we didn’t have to head back so soon,” Greylen said. He’d been lounging on his sleeping bag near the stream for most of the day.
“I agree.”
Nature was peaceful. It was where we all felt most at ease with our dragons. Despite how much we liked the horde, we ultimately preferred our isolation, which was a problem when you were Alphas, in charge of caring for everyone. Hence, the diversion.
Socializing had lost its charm after losing Emmy. A year or two after she vanished, we’d attempted to be the people we’d been when she was around. We’d thrown ourselves into being Alphas. There was only so much sympathy we could take, though.
To a dragon, losing their mate was akin to death. And we were feeling that on the daily.
We had lost our mate, yet all four of us were still somehow standing, shells of our former selves, of course, but standing, nonetheless.
If we had never found our mate, it would have been a completely different story. Colder, for sure, but then again, you couldn’t miss what you’d never had.
“Do you think something happened when they met with Dillon?” Grey asked, tilting his head from side to side, stretching like a lazy puppy.He relished in the time outside, considering he was usually cooped up in his office dealing with the horde finances and other paperwork.
“Don’t you think he would have called if that was the case?” I said, frowning at my screen.
His message had gone unanswered; it would only take us an hour or two to get back to the den, after all. The guy could wait.
So when my phone lit up, Orsen’s name appearing on the screen as the cell buzzed, my brows rose.
A low whistle escaped Greylen. “A textanda call. Bro, that’s some serious shit. You'd better answer before he has a stroke.”
I chuckled, shaking my head at him as I lifted the phone to my ear, already regretting not letting it go to voicemail.
“Get back.Now,” Orsen growled, his voice more demanding and insistent than I’d heard in a long time.
“Hello to you, too,” I said, irked that he was barking at me.
We were all equal Alphas of our horde. We ruled as a clan. Technically, before we had found our mate, I’d been in line to be the next Alpha. The others hadn’t even been a consideration until we’d found Emmy, formalizing our status as a clan. So, the asshole had no reason to be biting my head off.
Then it hit me. Why was he out for blood?
“Is everyone okay?” A dark thought grew in my mind. Was the kid okay? Rory had been getting sicker and sicker, and while the doc hadn’t seemed concerned, the horde was getting increasingly uneasy about his status.
“Emmy is alive.”
