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“I know, I know.” Avery’s voice betrays his panic. “I’m just... trying to think before Seraphina wakes up and realizes we’re gone, with another woman.” Anxiety laces his words. “Make space on the island for Max to lay her down.”
“Hell no, you are out of your fucking mind,” Ashton retorts. “I am not laying a strange woman on the island where our mate’s scent clings to the wood. There’s a folding table in the basement. Grab that and a tarp. Go.”
Avery mumbles something under his breath, and another door slams shut.
Leaning my head against the wall, I breathe as slowly as possible, inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth, trying to calm the storm inside me.
Someone is hurt and needs help.
I almost whimper, closing my eyes against the storm of emotions raging within me. My heart feels like it’s breaking,sending fissures of pain through it. Dizziness overwhelms me, and I nearly collapse to the ground.
Nothing about this situation feels right.
Is someone deliberately sabotaging my heat? Or is this all just a horrible coincidence?
“Get the door!” Max’s muffled shout reaches me, sounding like it’s filtered through cloth, but his words are clear enough.
Footsteps sound in the kitchen, followed by the creak of a door swinging open.
“I got the table and tarp,” Avery says, and I hear something heavy slam onto the floor.
“Get my med kit from the garage,” Max orders, his voice strained, as if he’s exerting himself.
The scent of blood drifts to me.
I can’t let myself smell it, or I’ll lose control.
I press the sheet to my nose, blocking out the scent with our combined fragrances. It helps, if only slightly, clear my mind for the moment, but when my heat surges again, as it inevitably will, I don’t know what will happen. Despite feeling unsafe, my biology will take over, compelling me to seek a mate. My body will crave a knot, and even if I’m angry, even if I no longer feel secure, I know I’ll inevitably succumb to one of them, clinging on until I’m sated.
The sounds of a table banging and a tarp crinkling echo faintly.
“The cold stopped her bleeding,” Max states, his voice clinical and devoid of emotion. He’s in doctor mode now. Not my alpha, not my mate. “Does anyone know Devlin’s progress in the lights and heat? It’s going to get cold fast.”
“The generator will take a moment,” Ashton explains logically. “Is she…”
“Dead? No, she has a slight pulse,” Max answers after a brief pause, his voice tinged with concern. “Very slight.”
“Who is she?” Ashton asks, posing the most crucial question. Even though he can’t sense my gratitude because we aren’t bonded, I mentally thank him.
“My realtor,” Max replies dryly.
A buzzing sound, almost too loud for my ears, fills the air—an electrical hum that reverberates off the walls. The lights flicker back to life, though not fully.
“Generator’s up,” Avery announces, his pace quickening. “How is your realtor all the way out here?”
“I don’t know,” Max mutters, likely preoccupied with saving her life.
“Do you think it’s related to the sugarplum we found?” Avery probes, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
My stomach drops at the mention of sugarplum.
“I don’t know,” Max responds in a monotone.
I wish I could see their faces to gauge their emotions.
“Or the footprints,” Ashton adds. “Someone is sabotaging us. Between the old school building, Thea’s sewing, the attack in the park, our alarms, and now this?”
“Don’t forget the sugarplum,” Avery interjects, his footsteps heavy on the floor.
