Chapter Fourteen
Lex
The falcon cannot hear the falconer.
I mutter the familiar words under my breath as I climb the stairs, soup bowls balanced in my hands.
Yeats. Always Yeats when the world tilts sideways and my brain won't stop spinning.
Things fall apart. The center cannot hold.
My fingers want to tap the rhythm against my thigh, but I'm holding soup.
Gardenia and clover, cedar and chamomile, woven together into something that bypasses thought entirely and sinks straight into instinct as I step onto the third-floor landing.
My skin pulls too tight. Every cell in my body screams mate, claim, protect, mine and I have to force myself to keep walking like a civilized person.
Sera walks beside me. Every movement she makes is controlled in a way that prickles my instincts.
Female alpha. The words keep colliding in my head without producing meaning.
I've spent my whole life around male alphas.
Competition or ally, threat or packmate, but always male.
I know the rules with them. I know where I stand.
With Sera, I know nothing.
We reach the top of the stairs. The hallway stretches ahead. The spare room door is closed. Behind it, my omegas.
“Ready?” Sera asks.
No. Not even close.
“Yeah.”
She opens the door. The bed blocks the view.
We step into the room slowly. They're curled around each other in the corner, wrapped in the duvet.
Espie's head tucks against Aubrey's chest. His arm wraps around her, protective, possessive in a way I've never seen from him. Their foreheads almost touch.
Aubrey is speaking. The sound stops me cold. Whispering. Actual words. Broken and rasping, barely audible, but words.
I can't make out what he's saying. The words are too soft to make out. They’re meant only for her. I think it might be the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed.
I want to quote Rumi. The wound is the place where the Light enters you. Right now it's all wound. No light. Just bleeding.
Sera approaches them slowly, voice soft. “Hey there. We brought food.”
Espie's head comes up, her violet eyes going wild when she sees me in the doorway. I try to make myself small, which is impossible at six foot four, but I try. I lean against the doorframe, deliberately casual. The soup bowl is warm in my hands. Grounding.
Then Sera purrs. The sound is lower than I expected. Richer. Not the deep rumble of a male alpha, but something warmer, more textured. It rolls out of her chest, filling the space between her and the omegas like a blanket settling over them and fuck if my cock gets the same memo.
Espie's breath hitches. Her shoulders drop. Slowly. Inch by inch. Her eyes flutter half-closed, some of the wildness draining out of them. Aubrey unclenches. His head tilts toward the sound, toward Sera. Then her gaze slides past Sera. To me. To the doorway and the wariness returns.
Sera glances back at me and I nod. “Lex won’t come in. Not until you want him to.”
I hold myself in check, not moving an inch. “Please. You need to eat something. It will make you feel better.”
The omegas look at each other. Some negotiation passes between them in glances, a language no one else speaks. Then Espie takes the bowl Sera offers.
Her hands are trembling. She wraps both palms around the ceramic like she's trying to steady herself, and lifts the spoon. Broth sloshes. A few drops spill over the edge, onto her wrist, onto the duvet.
“Sorry.” The word comes out strangled. She hunches her shoulders, curls in on herself, makes herself smaller. “I'm s-sorry, I didn't—I'll clean it, I'll—I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry—”
Her whole body is shaking now. Not just her hands. All of her. Eyes wide and fixed on the spilled broth like it's a death sentence.
“Hey.” Sera's voice is soft. “It's okay. It's just soup. Remember, I’ve told you it doesn’t matter if you spill anything.”
“I sp-spilled it. I'm sorry. I'm—” Espie's voice cracks. She's not looking at Sera anymore. She's somewhere else. Somewhere spilling something meant punishment.
Jesus Gods.
This is what that bastard Ethan Wallace did to her. Spill something, brace for the blow. Make a mistake, make yourself small. Apologize before they can hurt you. Apologize while they're hurting you. Apologize after.
I want to put my fist through a wall. I want to find that worm and tear him apart. I want to go back in time and save her before anything happened to her.
“Espie.” Sera's voice stays steady. “Look at me.”
Espie's eyes dart up. Still wide. Still terrified.
“No one is going to hurt you for spilling soup. I didn’t before and I’m not going to now. It's just soup, remember?” Sera reaches out slowly, telegraphing the movement, and wipes the drops off Espie's wrist with her thumb. “See? It’s nothing. It doesn't matter.”
Espie stares at her and Sera increases the volume of her purr.
“You're safe,” Sera says. “You're allowed to spill things. You're allowed to make mistakes. Nothing bad is going to happen.”
Aubrey laces his fingers through hers, and Espie's shoulders drop a fraction. Still wound tight. Still terrified. But a fraction. She swallows hard. Nods once. “O-okay.”
Both of them eat, but it's only a few bites before they’re full.
“I can't.” Her voice is thin. “My stomach—”
A few bites each. That’s all they managed.
“That's enough then. I’ll bring you some more later if you’re hungry.” Sera takes the bowls back and sets them aside. “You did good, Espie. You too, Aubrey.”
Aubrey's breath hitches. Something in him eases. Just a fraction. Sera's voice does something for him. Her presence, her scent, her calm. She reaches him in ways we haven't been able to.
Gods, I'm so relieved I could choke on it. He's here. Present. He's eating. He's responding. He's in his body, but the relief is tangled up with something heavier. The damage runs so deep. Deeper than I understood. Deeper than any of us understood.
“How about we give you a bath and get the hospital smell off you. You’ll be able to rest better,” Sera says. “Would that be okay?”
They look at each other and Aubrey glances back at Sera and nods. “Th…that would be…nice,” Espie says.
They move to stand, slow and shaky, leaning on each other. Espie's eyes track to me in the doorway. Uncertain. Aubrey follows her gaze.
“Lex will make sure we have everything we need. I might need an extra pair of hands, but he'll stay back unless you say otherwise.” Sera pauses. “Would that be okay?”
I make myself stand perfectly still. Hands loose at my sides. Expression neutral. Inside, panic wells up, thick and choking. Please. Please let me help. Please don't be afraid of me.
None of it shows on my face. I hope.
They cling to each other, Espie's arm around Aubrey's waist, his hand fisted in the back of her shirt.
Vulnerable. Adorable. The perfect pair. What they have, whatever it is, is special.
Unheard of. Two Omegas, bonded in a way I've never seen.
They're healing each other just by existing in the same space.
I want them to stay together. I want them both to be happy. And if that means I stay in the doorway forever, watching from a distance, then that's what I'll do.
Sera looks at me. Despite what she told them, she can't do this alone. Two weak Omegas, slippery bath. We both know she’ll need help. I nod, letting her know I understand. “I’ll start the water.”
I head into the private bathroom connected to this bedroom. I run the water, testing it on my wrist. Warm, not hot. My glasses fog in the steam. I take them off, tuck them in my shirt pocket. The world turns blurry.
My phone buzzes. Kev. Back. Left clothes for everyone outside the door.
I text back a thumbs up and pocket the phone. I slip out of the bathroom and catch Sera's eye. “Clothes are outside. I'll grab them when you're ready.”
She nods, then turns back to the omegas. “Come on. Nice warm water waiting for you.”
She leads them toward the bathroom, one on each side of her, and I hover in the bedroom. Useless. Uncertain. Desperate to help and knowing my help isn't wanted.
Aubrey looks over his shoulder at me. Hazel-green and glassy, like he's barely holding on.
“I'm going to stay here,” I say. My voice comes out rough. “I'll turn around. You won't see me.”
He stares at me for a long moment. Then Espie tugs gently on his arm, and he lets her pull him into the bathroom.
I turn around. Face the wall. The bed. The duvet crumpled in the corner.
Behind me, the sounds of undressing. Fabric rustling.
A zipper. Soft murmurs from Sera, too low to make out the words.
Then Aubrey whimpers. My whole body locks up. Every muscle screams at me to turn around, to go to him, to fix whatever's hurting him.
Sera's intake of breath is barely perceptible. A tiny hitch. She's seen something. The scars, maybe. The damage written on their skin.
I stay where I am. Nails digging into my palms. Jaw clenched so tight my teeth ache.
Stay. Stay. They don't want you. You'll make it worse.
“You're okay.” Sera's voice, low and steady. “I've got you. One arm at a time.”
Every instinct I have screams at me to turn around. To help. To do something. My mates are struggling twenty feet behind me and I'm standing here staring at a wall like a useless lump of furniture.
“That's it.” Sera again. “You're doing so well. Almost done.”
Then, finally, the splash of water. One body climbing in, then another. Small sounds of discomfort. A hiss of breath.
“Too hot?” Sera asks.
“N-no.” Espie's voice. Barely a whisper. “It's good. It's—” Her voice breaks. “I like it warm like this.”
Like warm water is a gift and not her normal. I close my eyes. Breathe through my nose. My nails are cutting crescents into my palms.
Sera's voice. “We're in, Lex.”