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“Because we are,” Cian agrees. “But not in the way you think.”
“Some investments have owners who don’t know what the fuck they’re doing,” Kylian takes over. “They snatch up a valuable resource, and through their rough handling, ignorance, or sheer stupidity, devalue it. They try to break the thing that made the resource special.”
In case Everleigh still isn’t getting it, I point my thumb her way. “That’s you, cher. Lawrence Wentworth turned you into his idea of perfect. What makes you valuable—what makes youspecial—isn’t the way you look. It’s you.”
She shakes her head. “Behind the manicure, the expensive blowout, and the personal trainer, there’s just Everleigh Jackson. I’m not sure she even exists anymore.”
“So we find her,” Cian declares.
Everleigh blinks. “What?”
“We find the woman Lawrence didn’t think was good enough for him,” I say.
Because she’s more than good enough for us.
She studies me with hope in her eyes, enough that makes me think she wants to believe it’s possible. Then the hope dies, and she smiles sadly. “I think she’s gone.”
For a second, I’m tempted to tell her she’s our scent match.
Until I catch Cian’s eye, and he subtly shakes his head.
It iskillingme not to tell her. But the truth is, even if Cian hadn’t shaken his head just now, I still wouldn’t have told her.
I’ve already fucked up with the pencil and sketchpad, thinking I was doing something right, which hurt her instead of putting a smile on her face.
I don’t want to chase her away with a truth she isn’t ready to accept. And I might. Easily. It isn’t like I haven’t seen her wariness. It’s like she has a metaphorical foot out the door, and one wrong word will send her running.
I need her to see her worth, to believe there’s so much more to her than being an omega—anyone’s omega—but how?
I drop the issue for now. I’ll let my subconscious work on a solution, or maybe Cian will think of something. Or Kylian.
About these clinics…
Once we have a concrete number of the free clinics, we can watch a few. There aren’t many people we trust in the city, but there are some.
As we talk, Everleigh sits back a little farther in her seat. We all notice. She’s exhausted. It’s like every new discovery gut punches her. The blows keep landing, one right after the other. She’s still standing, metaphorically at least, but how many times can she wonder if the only good alpha is the one far, far away from her before she runs?
When the inevitable happens, Kylian straightens from the wall.
Shaking my head, I rise from the couch and make my way over to our sleeping omega. “I’ll take her up.”
I’d be a fool to pass up any opportunity to snatch a few precious seconds of tucking Everleigh against my chest, of inhaling her sweet vanilla-coconut scent.
The second I’ve scooped her up, she immediately burrows into me, face against my throat, soft breath tickling my skin. She winds her arms around my shoulders, and it’s through sheer strength of will that I don’t crush her against me. That and the fear I’ll wake her before I can get her somewhere more comfortable than an armchair she was a second away from tumbling out of.
I’m an idiot for not thinking of it until I’m standing outside her bedroom.
It was one thing to enter her space to soothe her heat. She was in pain, and she needed help. Carrying her to bed when she’s fallen asleep in the den doesn’t call for me to break a promise.
Idiot. Why did you move her?
Everleigh sighs and then lifts her head, blinking big, green, owlish eyes at me. “Rune?”
Her sleepy voice nearly sends me to my knees. “You fell asleep in the den.”
She blinks again, glances at her closed bedroom door and back to me. “You can enter omega territory.”
“It’ll just be to put you down.” Have I died and gone to heaven for Everleigh to trust me in her sanctuary? “So you don’t need to worry about me…”
