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JACK
Dawn had barely warmedthe sky when a restless Pax rolled off the bed to stand and stretch.
“You didn’t sleep.” I stared at his back.
“Neither did you.”
“Then let’s get up.” But I didn’t have the energy to move. Instead, I watched him pull on a dressing gown over his naked body and push out of the room. He returned and tugged on a pair of breeches, grumbling something under his breath. His hair loose around his face and the dark hair of his beard shading his cheeks. I shook my head. I’d never seen him go into the world unshaven, but now, when the opportunity to shave had come, he didn’t take it. So I followed, forgoing all the niceties. For Pax, he was too distracted. For me? I was on the battlefield. There’d be no victory until our mate was back. I found clothes but did not bother with niceties of fashion. The only people in the house would not care if I had a cravat. Why should I?
“Let’s go to the drawing room. Better view of the drive.”
When we passed a footman, Pax ordered coffee, which the butler brought to the drawing room with the assurance that several grooms had ridden out. “We are all worried. I am sure Miss Hartwell and Miss Markham will return soon. And in good health.”
The coffee tasted like a bitter poison, but it cleared my head.
Only to discover that clarity brought forth an emotion I did not want to address. Fear. Made worse because Ayleigh was still as a tomb. Orley was most likely with Viola in her nest. Concern for their pup at the forefront of their minds. A pup… I could understand, a little, Orley’s reasoning for permitting an omega who wasn’t his go so that he could better care for his young family. And Trix would have jumped at the chance to do the right thing. The right thing. Could I blame her for doing the right thing? Yes.
Despite the plan to leave, drive for Wales, we waited—time suspended as we hoped for news. It felt like an eternity. The sun rose higher in the sky, filtering into the drawing room through the poorly drawn curtains.
Orley visited, but when nothing new was heard, he returned to Viola.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
We did nothing.
“Punch me,” I whispered. “Pax… I am…”
“No. I won’t be doing that. You won’t be doing that. We will hear about her.”
“Then make me forget. Distract me.”
“How? I’ll not give you the same treatment you visited upon Orley yesterday. Or do you want to be told not to worry?” He shook his head. “I don’t have words for that. We must trust in the Goddess.”
This alpha completed our triptych. I smiled, pleased with my artistic metaphor. But when I told him, Pax shook his head.
“No.” He grinned. “We are a prism.”
“Enlighten me, alpha. I don’t have any of your book learning.”
“Three sides bringing… Never mind, I don’t wish to be mocked—”
“I’m not.” I grabbed his wrist. “Talk to me.”
He used his own strength to pull me, catching me off guard so that I fell into his chest. “Five years. We waited five years. When we finally run into each other, find our mate, and then… This happens.”
Pax went to the door and locked it. “Strip.”
He shrugged out of his dressing gown, tossing the heavy brocade onto the sofa. “Strip, Soldier.”
Looking for the distraction, I did as told. Pulling my shirt over my head and pushing my breeches down my thighs. I wasn’t hard. But the sight of Pax standing before me—dark, dishevelled, and dangerous—caused a ripple of awareness through my blood. This alpha.
I kissed him. It was everything that anger and passion could be. So unlike kissing a beta or Trix. My alpha and his should fight for dominance, and we did. Goddess, but it was wonderful.
Did it make me weak that I wanted to submit? That giving even a fraction of my power to him gave me strength to know that, amidst the storm, sanctuary existed.
“She’ll come back to us.” He promised. “And I’ll strip her hide when she does.”
“Tie her up.”
