Her eyes roll back before she collapses to the floor, and I dive with her to protect her head from hitting the carpet. My side screams as loud as I am inside of my mind, but none of that matters. I’m the only one here, and I need to take care of her. Her skin is clammy, her pulse strong, but she’s out for the count.
I’ve heard about omega drop before. It’s when an omega gets so overwhelmed by their senses without any relief, that their body shuts down for them. Sighing, I lift her into my arms and lay her on the bed.
I fill the tub as planned, fill it with all the good smelling things I know she likes, and strip out of my clothes. Moving over to Rosa, I unzip her dress and pull it off her before carrying her to the tub once it’s full and getting in with her.
If anything, the warm bath will help her now chattering lips and shivering. Tucking her head under my chin, I hold her tightly to me as I sing under my breath.
No matter what the reason Pack Mayor has this little guest house fully set up for, I’m deeply grateful for it.
Chapter Sixteen
THREE DAYS LATER
DARIO
It’s soquiet in our new rental, and I really dislike it. Shifting in my chair, I wince as the cock cage reminds me of its existence. I shouldn’t listen to Ciro as often as I do. It simply gets me into trouble.
I complained earlier that I was having trouble concentrating, and he goaded me into wearing this contraption. I joked one fucking time about it, and here we are. He’s unfortunately wearing one too, but you’d never be able to tell. My brother is taking calls, organizing our men as they move into Savannah, and discreetly getting boots on the ground.
I fucking hate him.
Inhaling deeply, I struggle not to ask Pablo to spy on Rosalia and Verona. Pack Mayor has to have cameras somewhere on their property, right? As much as I disliked the complications they brought into our lives, the fact that they were taken so easily from us pisses me off.
The packs were completely right to say we weren’t taking proper care of them because our attention has been on Pablounder the guise of giving them space. In reality, this was a cold shoulder of sorts, because their presence is uncomfortable for me.
Since I don’t know how to relate or speak to either of them, I ignored them. Control over someone else happens in many ways, and we are guilty of this.
Rosalia couldn’t have weapons due to mental health concerns, we didn’t allow either of them a phone, and we controlled their movements due to their financial constraints. Verona can’t spend money due to not having access to her money, while Rosalia’s money is tied to her father. In any other marriage, Nico already would have set up his new wife’s accounts and bought her a car so she could move with ease.
I could drone on about safety, the danger Rosalia presents to herself, etc, but at the end of the day they’re just words. She made a good point as she reminded us that her life is tied to Verona’s. Rosalia won’t do anything to hurt herself that could potentially hurt her alpha.
We fucked up.
None of us realized that Rosalia was struggling as she came off years of medications that masked how she interacted with the world. Dr. Walsh reported that Rosalia had high amounts of the blockers in her system, and that this will affect not only her heats, but her day to day interactions with others.
“Imagine a burn victim out in the world without protection and their nerves exposed. This is how Rosalia feels as she’s bombarded with scents she’s never encountered before. It’s as if she’s experiencing the world without any filters.”
His words ring in my ears, and I have to stifle the urge to throw my computer against the wall. It is my job to notice this shit, and I didn’t.
Nico rubs his temples on the couch, his lids closed as he takes deep breaths.
“Can you feel how she is at all?” I ask, not bothering to ask whosheis.
I had two phones and clothing delivered two days ago on behalf of our pack, along with snacks that I know Rosalia likes. Ciro suggested a few comfort items he thought Verona would enjoy, and we received a text from Silas suggesting we be less obvious and try harder.
Neither Rosalia nor Verona texted any of us, despite inputting all of our numbers into the phones. I fucking hate that he’s right.
“I feel twitchy,” he growls. “When I stand, I feel as if I’m going to pass out, and the very idea of food makes me nauseous. She’s not doing so hot.”
“Go see her,” Pablo says, dropping onto the couch next to him. Ciro glances up as he finishes the text he’s sending off, waiting to see what Nico says. “Fix whatever is broken.”
“You’re not going to win her over alone,” I remind them, pushing my computer to the side. “Nico was doing alright connecting with her before the wedding.”
“Am I the problem?” Pablo asks, eyes widening. The scent of something sour fills the air, showing his anxiety as I shake my head in denial. “No. I have to be. I’ve been hiding in my room like a child. I was hurt that Verona wouldn’t acknowledge me, and you all indulged me by helping me forget that she doesn’t want me with your cocks. I’m the problem!”
“Pablo,tesoro, as tempting as you and your body is, this is our fault,” Nico murmurs. I can tell he has a headache, and I’m on my feet before I fully realize it. He thanks me under his breath as I hand him pain medication and a glass of water, throwing the pills back easily. “I treated Rosa as if she was one moment away from taking herself out of this world, because she’s admitted to being suicidal in the past.”
“You pushed her away despite wanting to protect her,” I agree. “We’re all at fault. We made them both our prisoners. It doesn’t matter that we gave Rosalia a nest, or any of the half assed attempts we made for either of them. A cage is still a cage.”
