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"Oof."
"Quiet, dipshits," Hudson growls at them. If Summer is home, she would have probably answered the door by now, but still; he's not wrong. We don't want anyone coming out to investigate a bunch of people crowded around her door like literal stalkers.
"It's yours, Brooke."
"Oh, right. Yeah." I feel so off-kilter right now, and I definitely don't want to look at Hudson for fear of feeling like an even worse pack leader. Snagging my phone from my back pocket, I whip it around and tap the screen to see a text from none other than Ava Ellis. There has to be a reason she's texting me. I don't believe in coincidences, so I'd bet all the money in my bank this is related to Summer.
Ava
Meet me at Hog's Head.
"Why does she want us to meet her there?" Maverick huffs, and I elbow him in the ribs for looking over my shoulder to read my text. I don't know the answer for sure, though, so I shrug and start walking back to the elevator. The rest of the pack follows quietly.
* * *
The Hog's Head is dead. Well, deader than a weekend. Hudson doesn't wait for instruction, charging through the back hallway to where we know Ava's office is. The rest of us saunter up to the bar top and sit in front of Joe, another bartender. He's not nearly as pretty as Summer, though.
"Hey, Joe, have you seen Ava?" I ask him.
"Huh?" He looks up from where he's mixing a cocktail, but the question registers in a second because then he answers. "Oh. Nope. Last, she said she was going back to work on the books." His head jerks toward her office, where Hudson is making a reappearance, even more ill-tempered than before.
At my raised eyebrow, he just shakes his head and then walks to a back booth, plopping in the cushioned seat. Sighing, we follow. I've already sent a few texts back to Ava asking where she is and what she needs us to meet her for. Even asking if Summer is with her. No reply. It's an awkward twenty minutes or so. We're just sitting here silently, watching the front door and the back hallway for any sign of Summer or Ava. All the while sending periodic texts to both women.
It's not until I see Doctor Elizabeth Tanner coming from the back hallway that surprise and worry start swirling around the table like a visible maelstrom. We scramble out of the booth and are in her space in two seconds flat. The graceful doctor doesn't even ruffle a feather. Instead, she looks at us with barely concealed humor while she shakes her head. "I should have known it was you guys from the start. It was too much of a coincidence." I frown back at her in confusion. "Summer's just upstairs. I'm sure she'll be along in a minute." Too much of a coincidence? While I'm thinking on her words, Mason gets right to the meat of things.
"Why is she here?" Mason questions.
"Is she okay?" Hudson, the voice of reason, follows with more urgency.
"She can tell you why she's here. But she's fine." Dr. Tanner pauses in a completely non-reassuring way, "Physically." All of a sudden, her earlier words make sense, and every muscle in my body locks up.It was too much of a coincidence.She means meeting Summer and then us finding our mates. Summer is the omega who was drugged for two years; I'm sure of it. Physically, she's fine. Of course, she isn't fine mentally. Not if I'm right. Who could be fine, ever, after what she's suffered?
"What did you–" Mason begins, but Dr. Tanner holds her hand up to stop his question.
"I cannot discuss patient care with anyone without direct consent. Even you guys." That is why we always get her for home care if we can. She's direct, patient, moral, and ethical. Always. I respect the hell out of her.
"Please send me the bill." I thrust my hand out to shake hers, assuming the role of pack alpha. Dr. Tanner shakes mine and then breezes by. We stand there for a few minutes, watching where she left in a little bit of a daze, when the smell of honey and nutmeg fills the bar.
A growl rips from Hudson before he charges our mate and picks her up in a tight hug. Her feet dangle a foot from the ground, but she wraps her arms around him and buries her head in his neck as one of his massive paws holds her head to him. The possessive bastard starts rubbing his face all over her hair, scent marking her. A chuckle slips out of me when I see Summer shudder at the move. Then I can't take it anymore; I want in on that action.
"My turn, you big oaf." He lets her down reluctantly, and then it's my turn to tug her into my body. She melts against me, her gingerbread scent better than any aphrodisiac, and it calms me instantly. I don’t feel the overwhelming weight that I was carrying on my shoulders until it falls right off with her in my arms.
"Are you okay, cherub?" She pulls back to look at me, even though I want to keep her pressed as tightly against me as I can.
"I'm so sorry," she starts, and then, to my absolute horror, tears start streaming down her cheeks. I wipe each one, but they're coming faster than I can brush them away. She's not blubbering, though; instead, she's just staring up at me with big doe eyes, slowly turning a darker shade of pink. It's like all her pain is internalized except for the wet tracks on her face. Or at least she's trying to keep it all inside. Part of me is a little unnerved that she feels like she can't cry. The other part wants to pull her into my lap and purr for her.
Going with my instinct, I let a rumble work its way up my chest until it vibrates out and through her. After a few seconds, a lovely little sigh escapes her, making me just the tiniest bit smug that it was me who got to comfort our mate when, looking around, the other three desperately want to.
When the tears dry, I ask, "What are you sorry about, Summer?"
She looks like she may just start crying again, so I run my fingers through her soft brown curls. Her head leans against my hand, and then she whispers out her confession. "I thought you guys were drugging me." The last two words are so soft, I barely hear them... and almost wish I hadn't. She thought...
"I know you didn't, and I also know... um, well..." She blushes a pretty shade of pink and starts stuttering over her words.
"Know what, pretty girl?" Hudson asks, stepping up to my side so he's within reaching distance of our mate. Maverick and Mason take a few steps closer, too, all of us huddling around her.
"Well, Doctor Tanner mentioned... that you guys might be my," her throat clears, "my mates. Fated mates, I mean. Like,from the Goddess."
Mason snickers a little. From the corner of my eye, I see Maverick elbow him a little but put his hand over his mouth to hide his own mirth. Summer's bumbling and blushing is making this situation almost downright comical when, in reality, it should be a very serious conversation. Hudson is not so easily amused by the news.
