Chapter 7
seven
Xenia
My head whips around on a pivot, examining the space.
Searching desperately for a man I won’t recognize.
I never saw him during our encounter, but on the very last day, when he left me in my nest, his scent crept through.
It had hit me in the dome, a thousand volts of electricity. The crisp lime and spicy spearmint.
My toes curl in my boots as I continue perusing the space. We are in a large living area that is filled with couches that are begging me to fall into them. Every area appears to be designed for an omega. The soft colors, the plush rug, the abundance of pillows.
Except I don’t smell one.
“Sit.” There is a slight bark to the word, but not enough to concern me.
This alpha is concerned; it is in his nature. He is simply attempting to provide. Even if it is not his job to do so.
Settling down on the closest couch, I find it even more comfortable than I imagined and I melt back into the cushions, my frayed emotions knotting up just a bit at the sensation.
Once a few beats have passed, he clears his throat, taking up the seat across from me. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Where is your pack? And why are you here?” He gets right to the point.
Attempting to gain as much confidence as I can, I stare pointedly at the alpha, jutting my chin out. “I do not have a pack. And I’m here looking for someone.”
“Sure.” He draws the word out. He leans forward, steepling his hands as he levels me with the intensity of his gaze. A piece of blond hair falls forward, and it causes another wash of his scent to waft towards me.
I bury myself further into the couch and attempt to discretely cover my nose.
I thought the heat-blockers would help with this. Or do they need more time?
The alpha’s lips curl upward in amusement, but his attention is hyper-focused on my neck. On the mark Tony left.
“Who are you looking for?” The alpha cocks his head with the question.
His intensity has left me uneasy. I’m not sure that I want to answer. My fingers creep towards my stomach on their own. Landing on the overalls and digging into the material.
I made it this far. I have to find my alpha. Tell him I’m pregnant. Get this over with.
My gaze flicks around the room. To the lack of family pictures, the absence of a TV, the obvious rustic lifestyle. Out the window it is completely dark now, but I can hear that it is still raining. The sound is harsh with a muted underbite as it lands. It doesn’t exactly sound like rain.
I hope it’s not hailing.
Returning my attention forward, the alpha’s lips flatten into a line, and I realize I haven’t answered his question.
The name Serena gave me washes around my mind before finally slipping off my tongue.
The father of my unborn child. The alpha who helped me through my darkest hours.
Who worked through my grief with me. Who held me as I cried in his arms. As I begged for his knot.
As I pled for forgiveness from my dead mate.
“Charles Bentley.”
It is the wrong thing to say. The alpha’s scent turns acrid, and his anger hits me directly in the face. It is hot, painful, terrifying, and it causes me to cower back further into the couch.
This was a mistake. I should have grabbed the mace. I should have brought Serena.
The alpha jerks out, snatching my forearm, his hold tight and bruising. “What is your name?” he barks at me.
I have very little choice other than to answer, but I would have either way.
“Xenia Rossi.”
The alpha snarls in response, his grip tightening as he drags me up out of the couch. “He doesn’t live here.”
Tears are forming in my eyes now, and I can’t help but to whimper.
The sound causes the alpha to pause, but then he shakes his head. “An omega? They sent a fucking omega?!”
His words don’t make any sense.
“I smell… I smell him here,” I sob softly as he physically drags me towards the front door.
He hesitates, but only for a singular instance before he rips the front door open and shoves me through it. “He’s dead. Don’t come back here or it will end up worse than this.”
And then he is pushing me as far as he can and slamming the door in my face.
I don’t think he exactly means for the force he uses to literally take me off the porch, but I land in mud just off the edge. Water is hitting me from above, except it isn’t rain.
It’s snow.
Snowing in Florida.
That is my last coherent thought before the realization hits me.
He’s dead. Charles is dead. My unborn child’s father is dead.
That—coupled with the grief of Tony’s loss, multiplied by this alpha’s cruelty—induces the breakdown.
Huddling for warmth, I cry hysterically on the ground as my entire world drops out from underneath me.
And it is in that moment I truly realize how attached I grew to Charles in the short time we knew each other.
“I’m a farmer.”
My lips curl up on their own at the words. “A farmer? Of what?”
“Milk mostly. It is a family farm and while we don’t need it really, I wanted to carry on their legacy. It was my sister’s favorite place growing up. Where her son was born. And the cows are all sweethearts. Except Ruth—she’s an angry young heifer.”
Her son.
I want to ask him what happened to her son. But I don’t. There are some questions that can cause the other person agony. And I don’t want to hurt this alpha.
My own pain subsides, but it is now overwhelmingly replaced with an aching desire.
“We don’t have much time,” I warn him. Getting to my feet haphazardly, I walk to where the birth control is.
“I’m ready whenever you are. Keep asking me questions until then. And can I ask you some too?”
“Yes,” I answer easily. Opening the bottle, I place the pill on my tongue and swallow it dry.
“If the world were to dissolve into nothingness, would you be happy with where you are in it? With all you have done?”
His questions cause my breath to leave me. I mull his words over, wanting to answer them to my best ability. My eyes scrape across the room I stand in. On all the choices that wound up with me in this room in the middle of a heat clinic. Of the happiness I shared with Tony. Of our hardships.
Of his choices that ultimately led to his death.
Of me pleading with him.
Of him not listening to me.
Of the drugs that warped our loving relationship into something nearly unrecognizable.
“Yes and no.” Instead of returning to the wall, I settle back into the couch, needing the extra comfort.
I have never spoken my truth out loud. Not to Serena. Not even to myself.
“I loved my alpha. We were so incredibly happy. But he comes from a bad family and it was only a matter of time before they got their claws back into him. And then he started coming home different. I wish I had seen the signs. Wish I had done more to help him. But by the time I gained the courage, it was too late.”
The alpha on the other side of the wall inhales sharply.
“Sweet Little Omega. I promise you that you cannot fix those who do not see themselves as broken. I figured this out with my sister. I tried everything I could to keep her on this plane. To remind her of her son. To instill in her the importance of her existence. But it didn’t matter.
I couldn’t get through to her. For a while I blamed myself, but ultimately, I have to believe I did the best I could.
It wasn’t my fault. Just like it wasn’t yours. ”
My heart clenches in empathy for this stranger. For his hardships. The evidence of his scars. For his sister’s son who was left behind in the wake of this tragedy. Again, I want to ask about her son, but I don’t.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”
“Listen, there's something I need to tell you.” The alpha’s sultry voice turns urgent.
“What is—” That is all I am able to get out before my vision darkens, my entire body lighting up, my desire shooting out across my nerves from my fingertips to my toes.
I recognize at this moment: we have run out of time.
“Now. I’m going to use the scent-blockers and then I will be in the nest. Five minutes. Please, Luck.” The words come out slurred, broken.
“I understand. I will be there, Nia. You will make it through this. I will be here with you every single step of the way.”
My heart warms at his promise as I bolt to the bathroom. Using the last of my reserves to clean myself and prepare for what is to come.
Following suit with my past self, I gather my wits and force myself out of my meltdown.
I have to leave. I have to get out of here. I can process this when I am somewhere safe.
Pushing myself up, I march to my car.
He’s dead.
I clock the thin layer of snow coating it as I open the door.
He’s dead.
Turning on the windshield wipers, I attempt to clear it off.
He’s dead.
There isn’t too much and it works, but just barely.
I have to get home. I can’t drive in this.
Flicking on my headlights, I grip the steering wheel tightly as I lean forward attempting to see.
Charles is dead.
Putting the car in reverse, I manage to turn around and get back on the road.
Tony is dead.
Returning towards civilization, my nerves ease as the time passes.
I’m alone.
And then I make it to the hill I had gone up before. I freeze at the top, staring down at it.
This isn’t safe.
But at this moment, I don’t care. I start my slow descent.
Less than two beats in, the car slips. I try to correct it, but all it does is swerve me off in the other direction.
Directly towards the edge.
Unable to do anything, I squeeze my eyes shut. I will any powers that be to keep me safe.
If not for my sake, then for my unborn child’s.
Just before the car crashes, a splash of bright light filters through my eyelids.