Chapter 22
ANITA
The day has been absolute torture.
Every minute feels like an hour. Every hour feels like a lifetime. And I keep replaying yesterday over and over in my mind until I want to scream.
The confession. The tears. The way they all looked at me with varying degrees of hurt and confusion and disappointment.
And then last night. Slater calling in to my show. That voice. That offer of help.
If you want us to help… then you know where we live.
I’ve spent the entire day trying to come to terms with everything, with how much these men have made me feel, how deeply they’ve burrowed under my skin, and how desperately I want to run to their house right now and throw myself at their feet and beg for another chance.
But I’ve held myself back.
Because what if they only want to help with the Reed investigation? What if they can help me but still never want anything romantic again?
My chest constricts painfully.
Every time I think about what I’ve lost, I have a mini anxiety attack. My breathing shallows. Sometimes I have to sit down and put my head between my knees just to keep from hyperventilating.
Because I want them so desperately in every possible way, and I feel like I’m balanced on a knife-edge, unsure whether I should get my hopes up or prepare for more heartbreak.
They might help with Reed. But they might not want more than that.
And I don’t know which would hurt worse. Losing them completely, or having them close but untouchable.
So when Nina called me this afternoon, her voice bright and cheerful and insistent, suggesting an evening out to somewhere relaxing that would help me calm down, I couldn’t say no.
Especially after I’d already blurted out everything to her over the phone.
The whole story in excruciating detail. Every painful moment of yesterday’s confession.
And then I proceeded to ugly-cry on the phone for twenty minutes while she made soothing sounds and promised everything would be okay even though neither of us actually knew if that was true.
I do feel slightly better after talking to her. Slightly.
But that heaviness deep in my chest remains, as if someone’s sitting on my sternum.
Now we’re pulling up to a building I’ve never noticed before, tucked back from the main street down a winding drive lined with snow-covered trees. The branches are heavy with fresh powder, creating this winter wonderland effect that I would find beautiful if I weren’t so emotionally devastated.
“You’re going to feel amazing after this,” Nina says as she parks her cherry-red Beetle in the small lot. “Trust me. This place is incredible.”
I stare at the building through the windshield, wiping condensation from the glass.
It’s all natural wood and stone, designed to blend seamlessly into the forest surroundings.
Warm golden lights glow in the windows, making it look inviting and peaceful.
A discreet wooden sign near the entrance reads Mistberry Sanctuary Spa in elegant carved letters.
“You hire a whole private section and enjoy it for however long you book it,” Nina continues, already unbuckling her seat belt.
“You can get massages if you want, or just relax in the sauna and hot tub, which is what I normally do when I need to decompress. They bring you drinks, snacks, anything you need. It’s absolute heaven. Complete privacy.”
She’s bundled up in a cream-colored puffer coat that makes her look like a fashionable marshmallow, her blonde hair tucked under a fuzzy knit beanie with a pom-pom on top.
Matching fuzzy boots complete the look. I’m wearing my long black wool coat, a scarf wrapped around my neck, and my most comfortable boots because I couldn’t be bothered to dress up today.
“Oh, wow, sounds divine,” I say, grabbing my bag from the back seat and following her toward the entrance.
The air is cold against my skin. “I can’t tell you how much I need this right now.
I feel like absolute shit on the inside, Nina, as if everything’s crumbling and I can’t stop it.
But I also have to find a way to just go see the guys soon without completely falling apart, you know?
Without having a full-blown panic attack in front of them. ”
I’m rambling now, the words spilling out faster as we crunch through the fresh snow toward the door.
“But I feel like when I do finally see them, they’re going to look at me with these judging eyes.
Maybe they’re all thinking ‘sorry only goes so far’ and ‘actions have consequences,’ and I don’t know if I can handle seeing disappointment on their faces again. ”
“Anita, breathe,” Nina says, stopping on the steps to grab both my hands in hers. Her blue eyes are warm and genuinely concerned. “Trust me on this. This spa will calm you down, and you desperately need it because your anxiety is through the roof. Let’s go in.”
She takes me by the hand like I’m a child who needs leading, and honestly, right now I kind of do.
The moment we step through the heavy wooden front doors, I almost stumble over my own feet.
This place is absolutely stunning.
The entry area is like stepping into some kind of zen paradise I didn’t know existed in Mistberry Cove.
The floors are polished wooden planks, a gorgeous, warm honey color that gleams in the soft lighting.
Thick wooden support pillars reach up to the high ceiling, and each one is wrapped with living green vines that climb upward in elegant spirals, dotted with tiny white flowers.
To our left is a small pond, maybe six feet across, with real candles floating on the surface in glass holders. The flames flicker and dance, casting moving shadows on the water and the surrounding stone. The whole space smells incredible, this intoxicating mix of sandalwood and lavender.
More candles line the walls and windowsills, creating a soft, golden glow that makes the place seem more intimate and peaceful and far away from the real world.
“Oh,” I breathe, actually stopping in my tracks to take it all in.
Nina grins at my reaction and practically bounces over to the reception counter, where a young brunette woman in a crisp white uniform is smiling at us.
Behind her is a large ceramic vase, easily three feet tall, overflowing with fresh white roses and yellow lilies.
The arrangement is beautiful and elaborate.
I glance around while Nina handles the check-in, still trying to process that this place exists in this small town.
There are several arched doorways leading off the main reception space, each one draped with sheer white curtains that billow slightly from some unseen ventilation.
One archway is open, the curtain pulled back, and I spy what looks like a massage room inside.
A cushioned treatment bed draped in soft cream linens.
Lush green plants everywhere, ferns and palms creating a jungle effect.
The lights dimmed so low it’s almost dark.
Just being in the welcome area already has my shoulders dropping, my jaw unclenching for the first time today.
Another woman emerges from a back hallway, also in a white uniform, carrying fresh, folded towels. Nina is practically bouncing on her toes with excitement beside me.
“You’re going to die when you see the room,” she whispers, grabbing my arm. “This is so nice. Like, criminally nice.”
We’re guided by the first woman through the hallway, our footsteps silent on the wooden floors.
We pass numerous closed doors with little brass nameplates, each one presumably leading to a private spa suite.
I realize the building is much larger than it appears from the outside.
The hallway seems to go on forever, turning corners, passing alcoves with more plants and candles and trickling water features.
There’s even a staircase leading up to a second floor that the woman gestures toward. “Our couples’ suites and overnight accommodations are upstairs, if you’re ever interested in booking those.”
Nina wiggles her eyebrows at me suggestively, and I roll my eyes.
Finally, we reach the very back of the building and stop in front of large arched wooden doors that appear as if they belong in a medieval castle. They’re heavy and ornate, with iron hinges and handles.
The woman opens them to reveal a small changing area with wooden lockers lining the walls, each one numbered. There are hooks for coats, a bench for sitting, and baskets of supplies.
“You’ll need to remove all your clothes and wrap yourselves in the towels provided,” she says with a warm, professional smile.
“The changing stalls are through there. Take your time. When you’re ready, the main spa suite is through that door.
” She points to another entry at the far end.
“I’ll be back in a moment to show you everything. ”
She leaves, and I turn to Nina with wide eyes. “We’re going completely naked?”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” Nina says, already shrugging out of her puffy coat and hanging it on a hook. “You get total privacy. No one will see us, and honestly, after you’ve been sweating your ass off in a sauna for twenty minutes, you stop caring about modesty real quick. It’s too hot to give a shit.”
We each take a changing stall. Mine is small but beautifully appointed, with smooth wooden walls, a padded bench, and hooks mounted at different heights.
I strip down quickly, folding my clothes and setting them on the bench.
For a moment, I just stand here naked, looking at my reflection in the small mirror mounted on the wall.
I look tired. Dark circles show under my eyes from not sleeping well. My skin is paler than usual from winter and stress, and my hair needs a trim badly.
But underneath all that, I stare at the woman whom four Alphas apparently wanted. Whom they called their scent match. I shake away those thoughts.