But my throat is too dry after hours on that damned bus. And I’m too hot in this bodysuit, so hot that I start to see their anger as wavering lines of heat and their faces grow hazy. I sway.
Always observant, Colter swoops forward and grabs my elbow, preventing me from face-planting.
“What?” he asks.
“Water,” I reply.
Luka goes to the side of the tent and grabs a plastic water bottle, cracking it open. I down half of it before sloshing a little more onto my face.
They’re all still simmering…just awaiting the moment that I’m okay so they can rage again. At least they’re waiting.
Blinking slowly, adrenaline starting to fade, I shed my uniform jacket as I trudge slowly over to a partition.
“Too hot,” I explain as I pull at the buttons on my shirt.
Once I’m behind the partition, I swiftly remove my clothes and strip out of the horrid, heavy, sweat-soaked bodysuit. After a quick rag-bath, I take my time getting redressed, hoping that my alphas’ tempers will have cooled a little as they wait. Glancing at the socks and boots, I give up, though. My feet ache so badly that my arches throb, and there’s no way I’ll put those back on tonight.
I pad barefoot back out from behind the partition, and four sets of ferocious eyes find me.
So, they haven’t cooled down.
Not a single bit.
Ridge picks up the argument exactly where we left it, as if a single second hasn’t passed. “You were not trainedenough.”
"Hell, you trained me yourself. Don’t give me that. Other students at Eros are being sent here, so why not me? Why?—"
"Training is not the same as this!" Luka interjects, pushing his glasses up his nose. His voice is tight, controlled, but I can see the tremor in his hands. "The variables in a live combat situation are exponentially more complex. Your emotional state alone would have been a liability."
"My emotional state?" I laugh, but it's a harsh, broken sound, brittle even to my own ears. "You want to talk about my emotional state? How about yours? How about being left behind like some fragile piece of glass while the four people who are my entire world get shipped off to the front lines? You think I'm just supposed to sit around at the castle and wait to find out if one of you comes back in a box?"
The words hang in the air, raw and bleeding. I see the impact on each of them. Colter flinches, his broad shoulders hunching slightly. Kylian stops pacing, his face stricken. Luka looks away, his jaw working beneath his beard.
But Ridge just steps closer, into my space, dominating it, engulfing me in liquid heat that sizzles and sparks through my veins. He's not backing down.
"We left you there to keep you safe. That was the entire point. You’re our omega, and?—"
"I don't need your protection!" I yell, my voice cracking. "I needyou! I just found you, all of you. Do you have any idea what it felt like? That emptiness? Waking up alone? I spent my entire life feeling like a piece was missing, and then I found you—all of you—and you were just…gone. I'd rather die here with you than live one more day without you there."
My chest is heaving, tears of rage and exhaustion burning my eyes. I'm not just arguing anymore; I'm laying my soul bare.
Ridge's face is a mask of conflict, fury warring with something else, something deeper. He looks at his pack mates, and a silent command passes between them.
"Out," he snaps, his voice low and hard. "Give us a minute."
Colter hesitates, his dark eyes fixed on me with a mixture of anger and concern. Kylian appears as if he wants to protest, but one look from Ridge silences him. Luka simply nods and guides the other two out of the tent.
The flap falls closed, plunging us into a tense, dimly lit silence.
The quiet wraps around me like manacles. Binding. Constricting. Punishing.
Ridge runs a hand through his golden hair, his back to me for a long moment. When he turns, the fury in his eyes has banked, replaced by a deep, searing pain that mirrors my own. "You could have died today, Brylee."
"So could you," I whisper, my voice hoarse. "Every single day."
He closes the distance between us in two long strides, his hands coming up to grip my upper arms. His touch is firm, almost bruising, but it's the only thing anchoring me, and I wilt into it.
"Do you have any idea what it would do to us? To find you? To lose you?" His voice is ragged, raw, a gaping wound doused in salt. "It would break us. All of us. We wouldn't survive it."
