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Waiting outside.
Miss you already, little bear.
Always thought I knew exactly what I wanted, but somewhere, my wants shifted.
Right now, I want a shower, bad.
Then a few answers…
Then maybe a few bites.
I scrub and shave. I’m achy, tender, and bandaged, with stitches around my elbow, so the hot water stings as much as it soothes. But even though I’m sore, I’m light in a way I never could’ve dreamed.
My toes bounce and my chest tingles.
Happiness.
Excitement.
Plus an itchy, scratchy sense of anticipation, and a growing need to be hidden somewhere dark and safe.
I put on leggings and Orion’s apple-heaven hoodie, then grab the binders left on my bedspread and walk them to the nest.
To my nest.
I flick the lights from disco to a low, calming yellow, then dive into a mountain of pillows to see how much they think I’m worth.
It’s a fucking stack of offers, and the bids aren’t just cash.
Properties. Cars. Horses?
I toss that one to the floor.
Offers are stacked alphabetically, so I’m almost at the bottom when I spot Sorensen Pack’s binder.
They’re offering me a building, a multi-zeros payout, and…a boat.
I never need to see another ocean.
With a silent farewell to all those pastries, and the hope that Atlas can follow baking instructions too, I push their binder into the growing pile on the floor.
Just wasn’t meant to be.
I hope they find an omega who’s a better fit for what they’re offering.
Wyvern Pack’s binder is last.
Catherine left sticky notes on most of them—which I ignored—but this one, I peel off, eyebrows lifting.
BAD CHOICE.
Then I crack the binder and see why.
Zero dollars.
No boats or cars or ponies.
Their offer’s just an address. Deadly curious, I pull up the location on my phone.
