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“It smells like snow,” I remark, moving closer to Max to steal some of his warmth. I breathe in the crisp scent of winter, a hint of excitement dancing in the air.
“The weatherman didn’t say anything about snow,” he says, perplexed, while eyeing the steps. “Is there another exit?”
I glance around, but the staircase appears to be our only way out. “No,” I reply.
Max raises an eyebrow, his concern evident. “This looks hazardous.”
I can’t help but tease him, grinning as I squeeze past him and slowly descend the steps. “Aww, look at you being all alpha-like.”
“That’s because I am an alpha,” he says right behind me, his tone filled with genuine concern. “If it snows, you could easily fall down the steps and break something.”
I stifle my laughter at his protective instincts and continue walking toward his truck. Loose gravel crunches under my heels as I go. “Haven’t fallen yet,” I retort over my shoulder, though I have, in fact, tripped up these very steps—a feat that should be impossible but somehow isn’t.
“Only a matter of time,” he mutters with a playful smirk, making me laugh as he rushes ahead to open the door for me.
Thankfully, there’s a sturdy footstep, allowing me to climb up into the truck. This time, I decide to buckle my own seatbelt. As I look ahead, the park appears desolate, devoid of kids playing and anyone just casually strolling past.
Max climbs into the truck and follows my gaze. “No one knows anything,” he says, locking the doors and pulling out of the parking lot. “The deltas are hoping it’s just a one-time thing.”
I watch him closely as he speaks, noticing how his features contort and how he rolls his lips in thought. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
“I’m not sure,” he answers, navigating down the street. The institute is only a ten-minute drive away. “No one just attacks and hurts an omega.”
I chew the inside of my lip, a strange thought washing over me. “Last year...”
“I know,” he says with a sigh, his gaze steady on the road. Last year, I discovered that my sister never died, and Sawyer and her mates stumbled upon mutilated bodies of gammas and omegas. “I don’t know if it’s related.”
“It’s strange to me,” I whisper as we come to a stop at a traffic light.
“What is?” Max turns up the heat and glances at me from the corner of his eye.
“It just doesn’t feel right,” I admit, my frown deepening. “It’s almost surreal, as though I’m disconnected from that woman you found and her death. I should feel something more. My friend Audrey, she would want to know more. She’s more cautious than Sawyer, but just as curious. I didn’t know her that well, but does it make me a bad person that I don’t want to know more?”
“No,” he says softly as we hit a traffic jam. “You don’t need to push for more, Seraphina. You don’t have to solve anything that happened to Thea or anyone else, and you aren’t obligated to if you don’t want to. It isenoughto know that Thea is safe right now and that the deltas will figure out what happened. In fact, self-preservation is what all omegas and gammas need right now.”
“I just feel like I should be doing something, anything” —I gesture helplessly with my hands— “instead of nothing.”
“You are staying alive, and that’s just as important as finding out who hurt her,” Max assures me, his voice calm and soothing. “Leave it to the deltas in charge and try not to worry.”
I lean back in my seat, rolling my head to look at Max. He’s so easy to talk to, as though I’ve known him all my life. Maybe that’s why, when I first met him, I had this innate desire to push his buttons and drive him insane.
“What is going on?” he asks as he inches forward in his seat.
Turning around, I look out the window. We’re passing the council headquarters, and there are dozens of protestors out front. Delta enforcers are everywhere, redirecting traffic and maintaining order.
Nerves awaken inside me as I stare out of the windshield. “Alphas,” I whisper just as Max locks the doors. Dozens of them are holding signs and taking up space outside the council headquarters. “Are they all?—”
“Yeah,” Max grunts, his thumbs tapping on the steering wheel in frustration. “It looks that way.”
“It looks like they are tailgating,” I remark, my gaze fixed on the scene outside. Some of them have coolers full of drinks, while others have tables lined up with food.
As we get even closer, Max rolls down his window. A delta enforcer takes note of Max and jogs over.
“What is this?” Max asks with a furrowed brow.
The delta shakes his head, his expression grim. “Alphas protesting unbonded omegas outside the castle.” He looks at me and nods, his voice low. “I hate to say this, but you’re going to want to steer clear of public spaces for a while.”
I swallow hard, my gaze locked on the alphas outside who seem to be treating this like some sort of frat party, laughing and joking as though they aren’t protesting my very existence and life. Why do they get to live out their dreams and have their freedom while I’m stuck in this complicated web of politics and expectations?
