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I stay in the bathroom with the door locked until sirens sound from outside.
But it isn’t until the officers break down the front door that I can breathe again.
* * *
It isn’tthe first time Michael has almost killed me.
The doctor says he could have crushed my windpipe if he’d pushed any harder.
He wasn’t overdosing me on suppressants this time.
In fact, there’s hardly any in my system, so a nurse brings me a dose in the form of an injection so I don’t have to swallow.
The police take my statement as I explain everything to the best of my abilities, my voice scratchy from Michael’s hand.
“Is there anyone you’d like us to call?” one of them asks.
“The Aurora Inn,” I whisper.
I do my best to rest in the hospital bed, waiting for them to arrive. My inner Omega is awake, demanding to see my Alphas and be made whole, but the rest of me is still in shock.
My heart hurts. My throat burns.
My fuckingsoulaches.
I just want to go home, back to theInn, but the doctors keep me overnight in the hospital for observation.
It feels like I wait days, but it's only hours until I see my first Alpha.
James.
His icy eyes find mine, and then his gaze flicks to my throat. He swallows, and I can see him pushing the anger aside, so as not to frighten me.
“Thank fuck,” he whispers, pulling a chair next to me. “Princess.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to fucking kill him, I promise you.”
I shake my head. “Not worth it,” I croak. “I don’t want to visit you in prison.”
He scoffs, then smirks. “But then we couldn’t have conjugal visits.”
I roll my eyes and smile.
I missed him and his weird perverted self.
Grey is next to enter the room, his face solemn as he looks at me.
“Harper,” he breathes, smoothing the hair from my forehead. “Fuck.”
His eyes are sorrowful, and I want to kiss his sadness away.
“I’m safe now,” I whisper to him. “That’s what matters.”
Beau is next, his face just as pained as Grey’s, only there are tears in his eyes. He rushes to my side and kisses me, his hand cupping my cheek. His lips are full and plump against mine, and I sigh into the embrace.
I missed them all so much.
“I didn’t write those letters,” I whisper, and they all look at me strangely.
“Baby, we don’t give a shit if you write ten thousand hate letters to us,” James says. “It doesn’t matter.”
