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“Yeah.” Her little sigh betrayed that I was right. “I can still hope, though, and that hope helps with the pain.”
She doodled the little symbol she drew on everything in the corner of the paper before grabbing my hand and drawing it on the top of my thumb. It didn’t mean anything, it was just a little symbol she liked.
“I hope you get it,” I said.
“Me too.”
And then she had. She’d found out we were scent-sympathetic and had walked away.
Grief struck me in the chest. What had I done? What could have made her walk away from the one thing in the world she truly wanted?
I grabbed my bag from the now empty studio and headed straight to Gabriel’s office. He tried to stop me when I went after her and failed. The whole pack knew about Sloane, and they’d been interested in seeing what would happen. Safe to say they didn’t think of this.
Pushing the door open without knocking, Gabriel turned from where he was looking out the window. His office was in the admin portion of the building, much higher than the theater itself.
“Did you—”
“Yes.” He didn’t even let me finish the question. “Yes, I did.”
We hadn’t had a chance to talk, and every piece of me was relieved it wasn’t the rare situation where only one of us was scent-sympathetic. If both Gabriel and I were, Jace and Roman were almost guaranteed.
I didn’t even make it to a chair. I fell back against the wall of his office, nearly sliding down it. “Gabe, what the fuck.” Not a question, just a statement.
He chuckled, but his eyes were just as haunted as I knew mine were. “Did you find her?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
My whole body shuddered. “And up close it’s so much better. I can’t even breathe. The fact that I’m here right now and not tracking her down across the city is a miracle.”
He looked at me. “Did she say anything?”
“No.”
Gabriel raised his eyebrows.
“I asked her why, and she started crying.” Placing a hand to my chest, I tried to add pressure to ease the ache there. She was sad. She wasbroken,and it had to do with me. The Alpha instinct to take care of an Omega—myOmega—hated that her tears were my fault. “She said she can’t.”
“She can’t?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I—” He sat down and I let myself sink the rest of the way down to the floor and buried my face in my hands. “What do we do?”
“First, let me tell you that just because I’m keeping myself calm doesn’t mean I don’t feel it. If I hadn’t been talking in front of the entire fucking company, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“I need to find her.”
“No,” Gabe said, though it sounded like the word was dragged out of him by force. “Something is wrong, Ash. We both know that if tears are her reaction, chasing her down just to get to the bottom of it isn’t going to fix that. Sloane’s not going anywhere, and she’s going to have to talk to you very soon anyway.”
I asked the question with my eyes, and he put a clipboard down on the desk in my direction. A copy of the roles forGisellethat had been posted.
Pushing myself off the floor, I grabbed it and scanned down the list of names. They were arranged by cohort, so everyone knew who they’d be rehearsing with. I found my name and the group.
Cohort 3:
Giselle: Sloane Glass
Albrecht: Asher West
