Page 67 of A Nest of Maple & Mist

Her gaze swept over the room—the new boards, the sanded shelves, the way I’d painstakingly restored the wooden beams of the vaulted ceiling.

Then her wide doe eyes met mine.

A watery shimmer made those beautiful brown irises glitter. A single tear escaped, tracing a slow path through the dust on her cheek. She looked at my sweat-soaked shirt, my bruised knuckles, and the sheer exhaustion I knew marred my face.

“Alpha,” she sobbed, clutching her middle.

TWENTY-FIVE

MIA

Gravel rolled under my tires. My fingers ached from how hard I clenched the steering wheel. My omega whined, needing to crawl back into our nest. She’d been on edge, reluctant to leave the pathetic pile of blankets and clothes I’d stolen from the laundry.

Rubber squeaked under my grip as I rolled my palms over the frayed leather. I had an inkling why my omega was so unsettled. And it tied into the heat spike and me rummaging through the dirty clothes.

My heat.

I had no idea how much time I had. Luckily, I’d avoided any more heat spikes since Jason helped to soothe the last one. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. My chest hummed with a quiet purr as my fingers tapped over my sternum.

An uncertain laugh bubbled out of me. They did that. My pack. I licked my lips, remembering how wonderful it felt to wake up in my nest with Jason and Ty. It calmed the constant whir in my mind.

It was right.

It had been harder than I expected to leave them and go to work. My omega pouted the entire time.

So logically, I had to torture her and myself more by refusing to go straight home after I left the bookshop. Instead, I drove to the place I hadn’t dared to visit since Jason invited me to stay with the Hawthorne Pack.

My heart sank into the pit of my stomach, acid eroding the lining of my esophagus. The last time I saw it had been dreadful. And I just knew that it was going to be even worse this time. Weeks had passed, and I’d done nothing to stem the decay.

The car rolled to a stop in the familiar driveway, fishtailing as I slammed on the brakes. Blood receded from my fingertips. My hands went numb and my cheeks turned cold.

“What is g⁠—”

The rest of the words vanished in a whisper.

I sat there, my seat vibrating as the engine idled.

The collapsed sections of the roof no longer existed. Dark slate gleamed in the setting sun, the new roof looking as though it’d outlive me. Shattered glass no longer littered the overgrown flowerbeds.

Solid oak windows replaced the once rotten ones. I bit down on my abused lower lip, licking away the tang of blood that greeted me.

I popped my key out of the ignition, wiping my hands over my thighs as I stepped out. The last time I’d been here, I’d nearly choked on the sour smell.

Nothing of that remained. Now I smelled cedar and pine. Leaves crunched under my shoes, the late fall air crisp against my cheeks. I inhaled. The hairs on my arms prickled, a shiver crawling down my spine.

That crisp fall scent was laced with something delicious. Something that tasted like caramel apples. Something that made my omega want to stretch out and bask in the feeling.

My fingers twisted as I wandered toward the porch, my legs heavy. Each step I took made my heart beat faster until the rhythm of it drowned out the ambient noise.

Time slowed. My gaze locked on him as my hand reached for something to hold onto. My fingers wrapped around an exposed beam, the sanded wood smooth to the touch.

A fine layer of dust covered Shane’s porcelain complexion, his white tee nearly sheer. Muscles rippled under the fabric.

The alpha before me was so different from the pale, lithe boy I’d grown up with.

My breaths came in labored pants. The house had been stripped down to the studs, the bones rebuilt. Light sparkled in his eyes, twinkling like dew-covered grass.

A hammer dangled in his massive hand, his brow pinched. With the hand not supporting me, I covered my mouth. He’d done this. With his own hands.