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We’re sitting on a small bench in my cozy nest by the window. These windows, probably as old as the building itself, aren’t quite floor to ceiling but sit low to the ground. Ashton’s finger traces the seam of the window, and I’m initially unsure what he’s inspecting. Then, it hits me.
This window, which someone painted shut ages ago, has always been a fixed part of my surroundings. In the entire year I’ve lived here, I’ve never managed to open it. I vaguely recall Sawyer’s mates attempting to pry it open when she lived here, but I’m unsure if they succeeded.
“Was this seam always like this?” Ashton asks, a hint of curiosity rather than worry in his voice. Given that this is a second-floor apartment overlooking an alley on the west side, it’s not a pressing concern.
Fully turning to the window, I notice what he’s pointing out. There’s a tear in the paint that sealed the window shut.Intrigued, I run my finger along the groove, the dried paint peeling back under my touch.
“That’s odd,” I whisper, my finger trailing up to the lock at the top.
The lock is open.
“Was it always unlocked?” Ashton asks, his tone neutral.
I shake my head, more perplexed than alarmed. “I never managed to open this window,” I admit. “So I really have no idea if I ever locked it.”
“Locked,” Avery chimes in, joining us. He leans over me, inspecting the lock closely. “I made sure they were all secure,” he asserts, his brows furrowing as he points. “I locked it myself. I remember distinctly because it wouldn’t open afterward.”
“What are you implying?” I turn to face the twins. Their words echo in the back of my mind, but it’s as if I can’t fully grasp them. Whenever I try to think it through, the thought slips through my fingers.
Ashton gently tilts my chin toward him, steering my attention away from his fuming brother. “Does Violet have a key to your apartment?”
“I never used to lock it,” I admit, looking back and forth between them. The unspoken words hang in the air—I didn’t feel the need to lock it until you came into my life.
Ashton gives me a patient look, his chin dipping slightly in understanding.
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “No, she doesn’t have a key. Lex is the only one who does, and I’m pretty sure the idea of my heat freaked him out.”
“Alright, alright.” Avery paces, his forefinger tapping a rhythmic beat on his thigh. “The angry alpha this morning. Did you know him?”
I wince, giving away my answer.
Avery pauses, catching the expression on my face. “Explain now, Seraphina.”
I swallow, my eyes darting back to the lock and then to the twins. “When Violet and I went dress shopping, we had a run-in with him.”
“What does ‘had a run-in’ mean, munchkin?” Ashton taps my chin with two fingers, turning my face back to his.
“He didn’t seem awful at first,” I start, sounding nonchalant. “We got out of the car, and there he was with two of his goons. You have to understand that some alphas just aren’t kind to omegas. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.”
“Except he tracked you down to the bakery,” Avery interjects from my right. Ashton’s firm grip keeps me from turning to face him.
I chew on my cheek, pondering, “The dress shop isn’t far, just a few miles away.”
Avery starts pacing again, his frustration palpable. “And that omega found in the park just down the street, miles from the castle.”
“She was jogging. A lot of omegas jog to manage their hormones. I’m not one of them, but it’s a common thing,” I snap, his irritation seeping into my aura, setting me on edge.
“I don’t believe in coincidences, sugar.” Avery stops pacing and turns in a complete circle. “Take a closer look around your apartment. Tell me if anything seems off, no matter how small it may seem.”
I nod, exhaling deeply with puffed cheeks, and stand up. The apartment is small, so the task shouldn’t be too daunting. Starting with the seating area, I look around. Everything appears normal except for the window.
I grab the tote of blankets and pillows, leaving the pillows out, and head to the closet. The top shelf where I usually store it is still empty. Shoving the tote up there, I search through thecloset for a few minutes. It’s not overly full, making my task straightforward. Nothing seems out of place.
When I turn around, I find Avery lifting the couch cushions and then Ashton actually lifting the couch. They exchange glances and then shake their heads at me in unison, indicating nothing suspicious.
“Bathroom?” I suggest, already halfway there. On opening the door, everything is as I left it, from the shower curtain to the line of products on the ledge. Even my little flask of peppermint schnapps beside the tub is untouched.
I peek under the toilet lid and check under the sink. My beauty regimen isn’t extravagant, and all four of my products are in their usual spots.
