Chapter 45 Raven
RAVEN
As soon as we get back to the hotel, I know what I need to do. I was able to push all of the drama and fear out of my mind while I was out with Orion, but now I need to face it.
A sense of foreboding permeates each movement as I walk down the hall to the bathroom where I keep my pills.
I can’t decide which outcome would be worse.
I don’t want to believe someone tampered with my heat suppressants, but if they didn’t that means someone probably drugged me, and maybe that’s worse.
Although, someone drugging me in a club might not have been personal, and someone messing with my pills definitely would be.
This is so messed up.
I dig around in my toiletries bag and pull out the little bottle of pills.
Unscrewing the lid, I tip it over, letting a small handful spill into my palm.
I search for the marking the doctor showed me, but don’t see it right away.
Panic grips me as I frantically flip pills over to see both sides, leaning in close to be sure I can see them clearly.
Nothing. They’re all blank. Every single one.
The pills fall from my hand, scattering along the counter and beyond.
What should be the light tapping of the meds as they hit the floor sounds more like a snare drum with how quiet this bathroom is.
My ears ring, and I clutch the bathroom counter to stop myself from collapsing, my stomach roiling.
Who could have done this? Why would they have done this?
Warmth blooms along my skin as a steadying hand lands on my back. Foster. I didn’t even hear him come in.
“What’d you find?” he asks softly.
“They’re fake. Placebos. All of them,” I whisper, still shocked and confused.
My normally pale reflection looks slightly green in the mirror.
What would have happened if I’d had that heat spike and Orion hadn’t been there?
Pack West was horrible to me in high school, but it was all childish pranks and embarrassment.
They aren’t the best. But this could have been so much worse.
I could have ended up bonded to rapists or criminals.
Someone could have stolen me out of that club and sold me to the highest bidder.
Every omega knows those kinds of horror stories even if there are protections in place to try to prevent those things these days.
This all could have been so much worse. And someone did this to me personally.
I barely have time to make it to the toilet before I lose my dinner. Foster holds my hair up and rubs my back, whispering comfort that I barely hear.
I wipe my mouth and sit back on my heels. “I can’t stay here.”
“I know,” Foster says, not needing me to explain. He kisses my forehead and stands. “I’ll pack a bag.”
Thirty minutes later we’ve filled the new heat suppressant prescription and made it to the guys’ apartment.
I try not to think about what the doctor said about how it might be too late to stop my heat from coming, and instead focus on swallowing down the pill.
Exhausted, I lean heavily against Foster as he knocks on the door. Tanner’s the one who opens it.
I wish it was Orion or Rhodes. They would be easier to deal with right now.
“This means nothing,” I say as I push inside.
As soon as I’m surrounded by their scents, I feel better. It’s like the first sip of coffee in the morning after a rough night or that moment when pain meds kick in. The tension melts out of my shoulders.
“Are you okay?” Tanner asks.
“No. I’m too tired to think. I can’t sleep in my own bed. I need… I just need… I don’t know what I need.” I drop my purse on the counter.
“Whoa, whoa, alright. You can obviously come in, but what happened?” Tanner asks like he’s talking to a scared animal, which isn’t that far off.
“My room isn’t safe anymore. I-I can’t stay there. Someone… my heat…” I trail off and my breathing starts to pick up speed. Strong arms band around me, Foster’s familiar warmth keeping me from spiraling completely out of control.
“What does she mean?” Tanner asks Foster.
“Someone tampered with her heat suppressants,” Foster explains.
“What the hell?!” Tanner yells, fists curling as he takes a step toward Foster.
“Knock it off.” I step between them. “It wasn’t him.
And I don’t want to talk about this right now.
” I stumble to the couch and lie down. It smells like butterscotch.
Mmm, Vann. Yes, this is what I need. Not accusations and speculations, just my pack scents and sleep. I burrow into the cushions and sigh.
From the other side of the room, I can hear Foster and Tanner whispering angrily, but I can’t tell what they’re saying. It doesn’t matter.
Eventually, Tanner walks over to the couch, looming over me. “You can’t sleep here.”
I roll onto my back and scowl up at him. “Are you seriously kicking me out right now?”
“No, sweetheart. I just mean on the couch.” He takes my hand like he’s going to pull me up, but I shake him off and roll to my side. He huffs and crosses his arms. “We’re supposed to be taking care of you.”
“Then leave me the fuck alone so I can sleep.”
Tanner looks over his shoulder at Foster, who’s smiling from ear to ear.
“She gets grumpy when she’s tired,” Foster says as if he knows everything about me. I can’t decide if it’s endearing or irritating.
“Come to bed, sweetheart.” Tanner holds out his hand, this time simply offering.
“We may be pack, by the strictest technical definition, but I’m not sleeping with you.
” I roll over, facing the back of the couch where the scents are strongest. There’s something more subtle mixed with Vann’s sweetness.
The familiar scent of ice and winter cold.
Frost and fresh snow. It’s like all my favorite ice skating memories, like coming home.
“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch,” Tanner grumbles. “Orion and I will sleep out here, and you can have our bed.”
The bed I slept in last night. The bed I bonded Orion in. “Nope. No, thank you.”
Tanner grumbles in frustration, but Foster steps in and tells him to let me be. To my surprise, Tanner agrees, and a few minutes later, a soft blanket falls over me. It smells like cherry and vanilla, spiced by cardamom.
I turn around just in time to see Tanner retreating back down the hall and Foster making himself comfortable with a pillow on the floor. He’s too far away. An omega whine slips out of me before I can stop it.
“What’s wrong, cucciola?” Foster asks, knee walking toward me.
“It’s just… would you…” I’m too embarrassed to ask for what I want, but he told me before that he would help with the bonding sickness, so I grab his hand and tug while scooting as far as I can on the couch.
He understands. Of course, he understands. Foster has always seen what I need better than I have.
He climbs onto the couch, scooping me up in the process and positioning me over him as he lays down.
Unable to control myself, I nuzzle my nose along the scent gland at his neck and lazily stroke his short beard. “I wish I could scent you.”
“You will, principessa” he whispers into my hair. “You will.”