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Having accepted them, I harbor no regrets, even if it was a move to save my life. I wasn’t prepared to die yet. There are still things I want to do, places to visit, and new adventures awaiting me.
“Explain,” I rasp. The fervor of my heat has dissipated, likely quelled by the brush with death. A part of me mourns how horribly askew everything went. My first heat was supposed to be a joyous celebration with the pack I’ve grown to love.
A deep desire to confront whoever spoiled this for me simmers within.
“We heard ringing,” Max begins, sitting next to Devlin who holds me. In front of me, the twins huddle together under a blanket, “so we sent the twins to investigate.”
“I read the text messages,” I croak out. “Water.”
“Got it,” Avery says, leaping out of bed and stumbling to the mini fridge in my room. He grabs a bottle then launches himself back onto the bed, making us all bounce.
Max snatches the bottle, flips off the top, and holds it to my lips. I don’t offer any snarky comments because they should dote on me right now.
At least until I understand exactly what went wrong.
“Someone blew through the gate,” Ashton says softly, “and then headed here. They dropped a woman off at our back door.”
“The one downstairs.” I clear my throat. “I eavesdropped.”
Devlin’s arms tighten around me. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wasn’t thinking straight. I was mid-heat,” I reply, the past tense causing them all to pause. “When I woke up, I was alone and thought you all abandoned me. My first instinct was to run.”
“I’m so sorry you felt you needed to run from us,” Ashton says, his voice heavy with regret as he grips my cold foot. “We shouldn’t have left you. That was a mistake.”
I just nod and swallow, feeling their remorse. The weight of their apology hangs in the air, palpable and sincere. An omega needs her pack, especially during a heat. It’s about safety in numbers, because an omega is most vulnerable then.
Wait. “An omega is most vulnerable during a heat,” I muse, the realization deepening my understanding of their regret. I adjust myself to sit between Devlin’s legs, seeking comfort. “Keep going.”
“Max felt he had to save her,” Avery says, his voice laced with apology as he crawls back under the blankets. His eyes reflect his inner conflict and remorse. They flicker between their berserker hue and his normal shade, sitting on the edge of those primal urges demanding protection. He seems a bit miffed with Max, and rightly so.
Contrition fills Max’s expression. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he murmurs, “but I see now how it hurt you. I should have been here.”
“Moving on,” Devlin says, his arms wrapping tighter around me, his embrace conveying his apology. “The power went out, and I went to deal with that. We were all trying to protect you, but we lost sight of what you needed most.”
“The entirety of this happening during my heat...” My voice trails off, sensing the guilt emanating from each of them. What’s even more disturbing is that all of this reeks of sabotage.
“There’s more,” Devin adds, his voice a mixture of sorrow and concern. He nuzzles my neck, inhaling my scent. When he purrs, I can’t help but melt a little. “The woman is my realtor.”
“I was on my way back to the bakery to check if she’d gone there, but then I ran into you,” Max adds softly.
“We went back to that building yesterday and found a few things,” Ashton says, keeping his gaze down but looking at me. “Your sister’s stitching was there.”
Chills race through me, unbidden and uncontrollable. It feels like I’m trapped in a haunting fairy tale, and while I love to read fiction, living it is another story.
“Cunt, that was the word stitched into fabric,” Avery snarls. “And one of your pottery pieces.”
“She was working on it the day I last visited her.” It seems impossible that Thea could be behind all this. She’s been in the institution the whole time. That’s impossible, isn’t it? Or is it? As I look at each of them, I realize they believe she has a part in everything that’s gone wrong.
As I look at each of them once more, I see their collective guilt shimmering in their gazes. Their desire to make amends almost feels overwhelming, and it’s clear in every word and gesture. They each have their own way of expressing it, but the underlying message is the same—they are sorry, and they want to make things right.
“There’s more,” Max says again, his ominous tone filled with an undercurrent of regret. “As I was stitching up our realtor, we got a call from the institution.”
I can’t suppress the full-body shiver that races through me. This is the reality I was hoping wasn’t true. I lick my lips and hold Devlin tightly.
“According to Melody, the storm scared all the patients,” he says, but his tone betrays his skepticism. “The overnight nurse decided to test everyone for a slumber party. Grace and Thea both tested green.”
That impossibility doesn’t fully register, as my gut tells me something has gone terribly wrong.
