36
Zephyr
The third time we went to Dove’s place, I knew it was going to end the same way as the first two.
We’d only been in Atlanta for a few days, but it felt like years.
The air here was thick, suffocating.
I couldn’t breathe properly, and every minute we spent without Phoenix made it worse.
Not just for me—but for all of us.
Kage and Parker were practically vibrating with anger and frustration.
They weren’t handling it well, verging on feral every time Dove slammed the door in our faces.
Kage’s temper was on a hair trigger, his growls constant, while Parker’s normal demeanor had all but vanished, replaced by simmering rage that was dangerous, even for him.
And me? Well, I wasn’t faring much better. Not that I had any right to feel this way.
Dove was a fiery little thing, and I couldn’t blame her for protecting her sister.
The second we stepped foot on her property, she was there, blocking the door with a fierce glare and sharp words.
She had made it clear that Phoenix was off-limits, that we had done enough damage. She wouldn’t let us through.
“Phoenix doesn’t want to see you!”
she yelled the second she saw us approach the house again. “You’re only going to make things worse for her. Can’t you see that?”
Kage and Parker stood beside me, their fists clenched, shoulders tight with barely controlled anger.
They wanted to fight their way inside, drag Phoenix out, and force her to face us.
But they knew as well as I did that it wouldn’t help.
Phoenix was struggling. And pushing her too hard, too fast, would only make things worse.
I stayed quiet, watching Dove as she tore into us again, her words biting but not unfair.
She was right.
We had broken something in Phoenix.
Something fragile that we hadn’t even realized we’d been holding.
After another failed attempt, Dove slammed the door again, leaving us standing there like a bunch of fools.
Kage kicked at the ground, muttering curses under his breath, while Parker paced like a caged animal, his frustration palpable.
As we walked back to the car, I glanced over at my packmates.
They were spiraling.
I could see it in their eyes, in the way their movements had become jerky, erratic.
The bond that had been forming between them and Phoenix was unraveling, and I wasn’t sure how much longer they could hold on without her.
Phoenix had always been strong.
Stronger than any of us gave her credit for.
I had no doubt she could get through this.
She had done it before—clawed her way out of the darkness when her addiction tried to drag her down. But this time, it wasn’t just about her addiction. It was about us, about the bond we shared. And if she thought we were the cause of her pain, if she believed we were the ones pushing her back into that darkness, I didn’t know if she’d fight her way out of it again.
The car ride back to the hotel was quiet.
Kage sat in the driver’s seat, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
Parker was beside me in the back, staring out the window.
Neither of them spoke, and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything either. What was there to say?
I closed my eyes, leaning back against the seat, and let my mind wander.
Phoenix.
I could see her in my head, the way she used to look at us, the fire in her eyes when she’d argue with Kage, the soft smile she’d give Parker when she thought no one was looking.
The way her hand would linger just a little too long on my arm when she passed by.
She was meant to be with us.
I knew that, deep in my bones.
We were supposed to be her pack, her Alphas.
I had to find a way to fix this. Because without her, we were nothing. Just three broken Alphas, lost in a world that didn’t make sense anymore.
When we got back to the hotel, I pulled Parker aside while Kage stormed off to the room. “I’ll call her other sisters,”
I told him, my voice firm, more sure than I felt. “Find a way for Dove to let us through.”
Parker nodded slowly, his eyes heavy with exhaustion and frustration, but there was a glimmer of hope in them. “Okay,”
he said quietly.
I watched Parker disappear into the room, leaving me alone in the hallway. I leaned back against the wall, letting the exhaustion wash over me for a moment. Just a moment. Then I straightened up.
I wasn’t the kind of Alpha to sit back and hope things worked out. I’d never been that guy. And I wasn’t going to start now. If being the bad guy was what it took to save Phoenix—and my pack—then so be it.
I would do whatever it took.
◆◆◆
I’d never thought I’d be the one to do this—breaking into someone’s home, sneaking through dark hallways like a thief. But here I was, my heart pounding, my breath shallow as I moved silently through Dove’s mansion. None of Phoenix’s sisters would take my calls, so I had to resort to desperate measures.
I’d hopped the fence into the backyard, making quick work of it, and then slipped over to the sliding door. Lifting it slightly, I jimmied it just right until I heard the soft click of the lock giving way. I’d learned that trick years ago after locking myself out of the house, and lucky for me, Dove’s door was the same style. Rich people often assumed that living in a gated community was all the security they needed. Too bad for Dove—but perfect for me.
I knew this was wrong. I knew it wasn’t the way to fix things, but I was out of options. We’d tried knocking on the door, tried talking our way in, but Dove was relentless. She wouldn’t let us see Phoenix.
I couldn’t leave Atlanta without her. I wouldn’t.
The house was huge, cold, and sterile. It felt like I was in another world, far removed from the chaos inside my head. But I pushed all that down. I needed to focus. I needed to find her. I’d seen the way Kage and Parker were spiraling, how they were barely holding it together. I wasn’t doing much better, but I hid it behind anger and determination. It was all I had left to keep myself sane.
As I moved further into the house, I let my senses guide me. Phoenix’s scent was faint, barely there, but I caught it—something sour and burnt, nothing like the warm sweetness she carried during her heat. The smell made my stomach turn. She was close, and whatever was happening to her wasn’t good. I needed to get her out, no matter what.
I followed the scent down a hallway, past rooms that screamed wealth and privilege, past all the life Dove had built for herself. But Phoenix wasn’t thriving here. She was deteriorating, and I had to stop it.
The scent led me to a door at the end of the hall. I opened it slowly, wincing at the soft creak of the hinges, and stepped inside. The smell was worse here, sharp and sickening. I swallowed down the rising panic as my eyes adjusted to the low light, scanning the room for any sign of her.
Then I saw her. Curled up on the floor of the shower, drenched, shivering. Why wasn’t her sister with her? She looked so small, so fragile, like a shadow of the Phoenix I knew. Her hair was plastered to her face, her skin pale and clammy. She was muttering something under her breath, her voice slurred and incoherent.
“Phoenix,”
I whispered, stepping closer.
She didn’t respond. She didn’t even seem to register my presence. My chest tightened as I knelt down beside her. She was delirious, completely out of it. Her body trembled violently, and her breathing was shallow. It was like looking at someone who was slipping away, and the thought terrified me.
I gently touched her shoulder, trying to rouse her. “Princess, it’s me. It’s Zeph. I’m going to get you out of here.”
No reaction. Her eyes fluttered open briefly, but they were unfocused, glassy. She was so far gone, I wasn’t sure she even recognized me.
“Shit,”
I muttered under my breath, the reality of the situation sinking in. I had to move fast. I couldn’t leave her like this. Dove would never let us help her, and Phoenix wasn’t going to make it if she stayed here.
Without wasting another second, I reached in and turned off the stream of water. Covering her in a towel, I scooped her up into my arms. She was light, too light. I could feel the bones under her skin, could feel how weak she’d become. My Alpha snarled inside me, the protective instinct surging to the surface. This was my Omega. She wasn’t supposed to be in pain like this.
“Hold on, Princess,”
I murmured, cradling her against my chest as I moved toward the door. “I’ve got you. I’m taking you home.”
Her head lolled against my shoulder, her breathing uneven. I swallowed hard, trying to keep the rising panic at bay. I couldn’t lose her. Not like this.
The house was eerily quiet as I made my way back through the halls, every step calculated, every sound.