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Finley, utterly unfazed by the situation, just purrs happily in my arms, the vibration a comforting hum against my chest. His sleek fur reminds me of the simple joy and unconditional love pets bring, even in the most unexpected moments.
CHAPTER 26
Devlin
“Thoughts?”Ashton asks, pulling his gloves tighter, as if trying to ward off the blizzard’s chill.
“I don’t like it,” I reply, crouching down and pulling off my gloves to examine a singular track before us. It’s as if someone stood here and then vanished, teleported away—which is impossible. “Only mages can teleport, and not without a cost.”
Surveying the endless snow around us, I recall how our alarms had gone off at the edge of our property. We missed it, being otherwise engaged. I don’t regret what transpired between us this morning. It was more than overdue.
Fate, it seems, has its own games. Just as we finally gave in to our desires, someone triggered our alarms at the property’s edge. Worse yet, Ashton and I haven’t discussed what happened between us. We’ve been apart for so long, the twins only getting back a mere week ago, and he left with things between us strained.
I stayed here, apart from the pack.
Ashton came down, reeking of Seraphina, and I just... lost myself. Some might call it a frenzy, others a rut. To me, it was pent-up desire. In that moment, I needed him, and that becamemy sole focus. After our encounter, Ashton went to check the office because something had triggered the security camera. Now, here we are.
“The only explanation I can think of is that they stood here and then walked away, but that doesn’t make sense either,” he grumbles, walking in a circle, leaving a hole in the snow already two feet deep. It’s falling hard and fast. “If it weren’t for the cameras, we wouldn’t even know this track existed.”
That’s the crux of it. Our estate backs up to the mountains. In front of me, the Omega Mountains rise from the ground like looming sentinels. The thick tree trunks obscure the view beyond ten feet, providing a perfect hiding spot for anyone brave enough to approach from that direction. It’s rare, given the treacherous nature of the mountain range, with valleys and dips that seem to emerge from nowhere. Many believe the mountains are alive, shifting and creating new paths to fool unsuspecting hikers during the night. Many have lost their lives here.
Someone approaching our estate from the mountains isn’t impossible, but it’s highly improbable.
“Did you check the security camera?” I ask Ashton.
He scoffs, a hint of frustration in his tone. “Complete whiteout. It’s all white,” he replies, shaking his head with a shudder as the chill of the blizzard seems to seep into his bones. “Saw nothing, but I’ll double-check once we’re back.”
“No scents either,” I note, standing up slowly. The tracks before us are already fading, swiftly being swallowed by the rapidly falling snow. There could have been more at one point, but now, they are long gone. “It’s not unusual for prints not to get covered,” I say, glancing up at the thick pines above us, the only trees still proudly bearing their needles. “Look up at the pine trees. These tracks are directly under their coverage.”
“Don’t hit me with logic, Dev,” Ashton snaps, his eyes ablaze with a piercing blue that tells me just how much this situation isbothering him. “I don’t like this. In all our years here, has that alarm ever gone off without reason?” His intense gaze locks onto mine.
As I exhale, my breath forms a cloud in the cold air. Shaking my head, I have to admit that it’s never happened. These estates, home not only to the heirs but also to their families, are sacred ground. While many of us own condos in the downtown apartment complex, this is where we choose to reside.
Trespassing here is unthinkable, and it’s a known death sentence. Unlike the betas, we don’t have prisons for criminals. We don’t spare those who pose a threat. Unless they are severely mentally impaired, they don’t get to live. Trespassing is particularly heinous because omegas are rare, cherished, and fiercely protected. We can’t risk their lives.
“Yeah, exactly,” Ashton agrees, shaking his head to dislodge snow from his beanie. “What do we do? Seraphina is about to—” He pauses, glancing around warily before lowering his voice. “Go into heat. We’re about to be more vulnerable than ever.”
Breathing deeply, I inhale the crisp winter air as I stand up. Ashton is right, of course. “We need to beef up our security.”
“What?” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air in disbelief. “In the middle of a blizzard? We can’t just rush out for more tech, nor can we summon a mage to set up a ward on the house right now. We’re practically sitting ducks.”
“Ashton, try to think clearly,” I urge, regretting my harsh tone immediately as the cold sharpens my words. “Consider this—anyone out here in this storm won’t survive the night once the temperature plummets. I guarantee when this snow melts, we might find a body buried beneath it.”
“It is freezing,” he mutters, sounding disheartened. His cheeks are flushed bright red, contrasting with his pouty, pink lips. I find myself momentarily distracted, watching as heruns his tongue over his bottom lip. “Damn pheromones,” he mumbles.
I huff slightly, gesturing toward the house. “Let’s head back. We’ll double-check every window and door, make sure everything is locked tight.”
“Yeah, alright,” he agrees, his teeth chattering as he follows me. “It’s beautiful, though, despite the cold.”
As we step through the deepening snow, I reflect on Ashton’s anxious nature. I know his emotions often overwhelm him. It’s not the first time I’ve had to talk him down. He once shared his vulnerabilities with me, expressing fear that his nature as a delta might lead to him losing himself to the frenzy curse. His sensitivity, I believe, comes hand-in-hand with being an artist.
Now, there’s a hint of that vulnerability in his voice. Ashton views the world as a canvas, always ready to paint or observe. Usually, our world is so vibrant that it can be overwhelming for him, but right now, through our bond, I don’t sense the feeling of being overwhelmed. Instead, I feel his desire to add color to this monochrome landscape, even noticing his fingers twitch with the urge as we trudge through the snow.
“I love it here,” I admit to Ashton, my voice carrying a softness that contrasts with the harsh winter around us. “The condos feel cold, impersonal, but here, it’s different. It’s warm. It’s home.” Sharing a bit of my soul with him, I add, “And I’ve missed you three more than words can express.”
The confession feels like a release, a burden lifting as the words escape my lips. The year they were away, our bond stretched thin, leaving a hollow ache in my chest, a constant reminder of their absence.
Ashton stops abruptly, halfway to the house. His gaze, usually so fierce, softens as he turns to me, his eyes a deep, expressive blue. “We missed you too, Dev,” he says, and his voice trembles with a vulnerability that pierces my heart.
