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I love him. I love all of them. I don’t even know when it happened. But they are little gold candles in my heart. Turning my world from dark to light.
I press a hand to my stomach and try to get hold of myself.
I can’t let them see me like this. I can’t let them know.
It takes a few more minutes to get my shit together and find the cold, hard bitch that conquered the world. When I come out, the mask doesn’t seem to fit properly anymore.
I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m not going to leave this pack unchanged.
Taylor pushes off the wall and uncrosses his arms. His eyes run all over me, up and down, as if he’s checking, as if he cares. He comes over to stand in front of me, lifts his hand up.
I remain frozen, locked in place, waiting to see what he’ll do.
He drops his hand, takes a measured step backwards, and spins on his heel and leaves the room.
But he stayed here while I was crying. He knew I was here, and he stayed.
I stare at the spot where he was standing. None of it makes sense. He cares. I know he does. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.
So, why is he trying so hard not to?
Because you have to leave.
“But why?”
I cock my head to the side, feeling a fluttering of hope. Why do I have to leave? What if I stayed? What if we could be pack? What if we could be a family?
I push away the thoughts, but over the day and all the preparations, they won’t be silenced; they bubble up when Bar sidles up to me, licking my neck like I’m his favourite ice-cream. They appear when I remember Jet’s words this morning. They return violently when Gold pins me to the wall, resting his head against mine, trembling as he fights to calm his own panic, fear, and excitement. And they return when Acton brings me a plate of food, drags me outside, and sits me down in between his legs and just lets me have a moment of peace.
Why can’t this be home?
Taylor stares back at me in my mind’s eye, and I wonder if he’s plagued by the same questions.
But why does it have to be in another lifetime, you could have been mine? Why do Taylor’s words give me so much foreboding?
twenty-four
Scarlet
Barren went into his heat twenty-four hours ago. We were sitting on the island in the kitchen when his orange turned to orange liqueur, sweet, deep, rich, and irresistible. I’d inhaled and felt nothing like it.
It was only the intense, richer scents of the Alphas around me that knocked me out of the haze enough to silently withdraw.
I don’t think anyone noticed.
But the house is…unlivable. His scent has penetrated every corner. There’s no escape, and it’s torture. And the sounds, it’s like a porn track running 24/7. The moans and groans, his whimpers and screams.
I’ve been in a constant state of painful arousal, but I refuse to touch myself. I stare at my laptop screen like I've been doing for the past four hours and close it.
I put my head in my hands and let out a little shriek of frustration. I haven’t slept. I can’t eat. I forget what I’m doing, distracted by a sound or a wave of scent, my clothes feel awful, and I keep soaking through whatever I’m wearing. This is hell. I’m sure I did something in a past life to hurt someone.
I hear footsteps and get up, disappearing out another door before they enter the room. I don’t even know why I’m hiding from them. I just am.
“Scarlet?”
I back even further into the other room, retreating from Jet with slow, sure steps.
He sighs heavily. “Scarlet, come out.”
