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Myrtle blinked. “Wow. That is a lot of information.”
Odette blushed. “When you are with your dark Elite, cuddling closer to them leads to thinking about sex, and from there, the touching kicks in.”
Myrtle felt a crushing pain and gripped the counter as she panted. Odette tried to touch her, but Myrtle waved her hand and said, “No! Don’t touch me.”
Odette paused. “Why?”
“Because whatever is killing me got super sad, and this is the result. I don’t know what it would do to you.”
“Okay. Can I get you some more coffee?”
Myrtle nodded. “That would be great. Caffeine seems to help.” The pain settled and eased enough for her to finish her cup of coffee, and when the refill came, she bolted it down with small bites of donut in between.
There was a light tap on the door, and Odette smiled and buzzed in the newcomer.
Myrtle heard the gasp as the heavy footfalls got closer. The low voice rumbled out, and she heard the soothing question, “What the fuck happened? What did you do to drive him off?”
She looked at him and groaned. “Who?”
“Your mate. The one who rejected you.”
“Never met him. Next question.”
The dark elf walked into her field of vision and was a bit more than most alphas but still not terrifying for someone who looked sculpted from onyx.
She snorted. “You two look like piano keys.” She groaned as another wave hit her.
Odette snorted.
Ark asked, “So, you never saw, spoke to, or touched your mate?”
Myrtle shook her head. “No. The doctors give me about six weeks, but I wasn’t flickering invisible then. I think I have shortened my lifespan. I will find out tomorrow.”
Odette blinked. “What’s tomorrow?”
“Every morning, my friends load me in a car and take me to the omega wing of the hospital so they can track how my dying is coming along.” She shuddered as a wave of pain rippled through her. “It’s getting old if you want the truth. I just want to spend the rest of my life with my true love. My laptop. Whatever I can produce before I pass away will be my pathetic little legacy.”
Odette said, “Myrtle is a writer.”
Ark paused and then said, “What do you write?”
“Light fantasy.”
“Perfect. They are trying to turn the Patchwork Pixie into a novel and screenplay. The focus that takes might buy you some time.”
Myrtle looked at him with fatigue. “I would love to rework it, but why am I buying time? One is off with a beta or omega, the other is unknown, and if I did have access to him, I would probably drain him dry. This situation shouldn’t have any more casualties.”
Ark nodded while he was sending a text. When he smiled, he said, “Remain here for half an hour. R. Lest is on her way with a hastily written contract for the two styles of work. Her mate is working on it in the car.”
“Why?”
Ark smiled. “If I know anything, it is that the work will keep you energized until we solve this. I will put feelers out for your mates and a solution.”
“If you find the one who is linked to someone else, leave him be. I don’t want a careless man.”
“There are only three with no sense of smell. It does narrow it down.”
“Smell?” She turned her head and looked at them. They were holding hands.
