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She needs to be held even more than I do.
I rub my arms, feeling the lack of my alphas even though all I want to do is dick-kick them into a snake pit.
They call it a mission.
I call it running away.
Meanwhile, I’m locked up with nowhere to vent, and all I can do is follow Lilah’s route through city traffic cams, making sure she’s safe.
One glance at the street grid, and it’s clear she’s heading back to the OCC. All I can do is wait for her to reach campus so I can catch one last glimpse of her on the perimeter cams. Once she’s in, I lose access unless I hack the military-grade system.
Or if Hikaru gives me clearance.
Both equally unlikely.
I’m so desperate, I’d call Nathan and suffer through his smug poison to borrow his black hat powers, but guess fucking what?
My brother’s with my mates.
I chug another energy drink.
My hormones are more level after my heat, so I’m only half as crazy as I’ve been the past months, even though my blood is fifty-fifty taurine and caffeine.
I’m finally seeing clearly.
If this were before, I’d be curled up in a whiny-ass ball, pitying myself that my mates left me because I’ll never be the omega they deserve.
Lilah changed everything.
The pressure I thought would crush me? The inadequacy, just knowing I’d never be good enough?
It’s gone.
Lilah can be their everything.
I only need her to be mine.
So I’m not pitying myself.
Now I’m just fucking pissed at my alphas.
Lilah deserves better.
I deserve better.
I wish I'd cracked the whip years ago, but I was so deep in self-loathing, I didn’t know I could.
Always thought they’d drop me the second I complained. They might still drop me, but whatever my instincts cry, the Wyverns aren’t who I’m most afraid of losing.
Motion on screen drags me back to the banks of monitors crowding our mission control living room.
At the OCC, a convoy of bulletproof SUVs pulls around the manicured entry circle.
I zoom forward, ready to drink in the smallest sip of my omega.
The picture isn’t great—CCTV bullshit—but it doesn’t need to be movie quality to show the guards preening like they’re shooting a muscle calendar, angling toward the central car. They puff out their chests when the door opens.
Lilah slides out of the SUV in hospital pajamas. She’s so short she has to hop to reach the ground.
