Seven
None of this makes sense. It’s true that I never had a great relationship with Winslow, but as part of the pack, of course I was with her.
Hard to resist somebody that smelled the way she did, even if she was a complete bitch to me.
Oh, she’d smile and bat her eyes in front of the other guys, but I think she knew I saw through her facade and she was always trying to angle me out of the picture.
So now this development is quite interesting to me.
I had my own theories about why I was only drawn to Winslow at certain times, but the guys never really cared to listen because as long as they got their dicks wet, life was good. Maybe I’m not alpha enough for wanting something deeper, but I tend to not give a fuck about what society thinks of me.
My family always drilled into me the importance of matching with a natural omega, because purebreds deserve to have their line extended indefinitely, according to them.
I didn’t give two shits about what my mate was made up of as long as things were good with them, and things were never good with Winslow.
But that picture that Moon sent earlier?
Of the clear as day omega, worn to skin and bones and needing urgent medical care?
Can’t stop staring at it. Her eyes are flashing up at his camera, scolding him for daring to take her picture, and for some reason her attitude is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, even if I’m desperate to wrap her up and spoon feed her broth… or something.
The rest of my pack pulled out of whatever they were doing to get over to Winslow’s house, and I can already tell by the mood of all of them as we try to get in, that they have so many doubts about who this mystery girl is.
I love my pack, but they’re damn big idiots most of the time.
They all want to act like this isn’t the biggest news they’ve ever received, that it’s not a second chance for something we all desperately want but are ashamed to admit to, but not me.
Then there’s the issue of the new alpha, the one Moon claimed was feral; but the way this guy was looking down at the omega in the photo, even if it was zoomed in and a bit too dark to see properly, tells me that’s bullshit.
If Winslow is responsible for turning him and he’s mated to the omega I suspect we’re all biologically inclined for, then he’s already pack.
He’s the one that opens the door to the house, because Moon can’t be bothered. The guy is frantic, eyes dilated and stress pheromones pouring off of him, charred cedar leaf and lavender gone bad, and the other guys push past him like he’s a cardboard cutout instead of the key to our problems.
A whine slips from his throat when all the guys bypass him, but I grab his shoulder and try to center him, emitting my own alpha pheromones to keep him in check. I’m clearly more dominant than he is, so this doesn’t take much work.
“Help me. I don’t know where she went. She was just here, and then…I think I finally snapped.”
He’s darting his eyes around every which way, shaking, until eventually he just sinks down into a deep squat, rocking back and forth while pulling at his hair.
I meet him where he’s at, taking a similar position. Minus the frantic energy. “Where was she when you last saw her? I’ve only been in this house once. Winslow didn’t like us to come over here, and I really hope I’m wrong about why.”
His eyes scrunch up in confusion. “Winslow?”
He’s already forgotten about her, I see. I nod.
“Oh.” He waves me off, standing once more and walking off to a lower level. Split levels are always so strange to navigate the first few times.
The alpha is looking back every few steps to make sure I’m following, and I can already tell the scent I’m so accustomed to being soaked in is stronger here than it almost ever was when Winslow was at our place.
Which would be impossible if she was dead.
Or, is it possible she did something naughty?
I recognize the room immediately upon entering, can imagine exactly where the woman was lying for the picture Moon took, but she’s long gone now. I start a thorough inspection of the room, knocking on studs, moving pictures around, trying to figure out how somebody could vanish into thin air.
Then I see it. She’s good, but she’s not that good.
So small you’d miss it if you sneezed at the wrong moment, there’s a crack in the wallpaper where a panel was not shut properly.
She must have been in a hurry to not cover her tracks like she might have normally.
I even find a long strand of her hair sticking out of the seam, and I wrap that delicate treasure around my finger as proof of existence.
“Uh, I’m Anderson. Not sure if that other guy mentioned that.”
I stand up tall and stick out a hand. “Jos.”
He shakes it, and I hold on a beat longer than I usually would because he’s now pack. “What do you know about her?”
“You’re not going to take her away, are you? You can’t take her away from me, she’s mine.”
“Packs usually share omegas. So no, I’m not going to take her from you. We need to find her first, though. From the picture Moon sent, she needs some medical care.”
He nods quickly. “I fed her and she ate most of a protein bar, but it’s not enough. She’s so small. She’s been hungry for a very long time, I think.”
And my parents told me becoming a doctor was going to waste my potential. Yes, they’re that pretentious.
I put my phone on flashlight and aim it down the hallways hidden within the very walls, immediately getting that there’s no way in hell any of us are fitting down them. I pull back and stand, hands on hips as I brainstorm options.
“Technically, my pack now owns the house. Legally. We could…tear up the walls, I suppose.”
He opens his mouth and shuts it, then goes to look inside the walls himself. I give him my phone so he can see the problem, and even though he’s clearly on edge, he’s able to stand here and think rationally. Definitely not feral. I keep a close eye on him though, just in case.
“I know some guys that could help before we go with the nuclear option,” he says somewhat casually.
“You know guys…small enough to get through those tiny ass hallways?”
He smirks. “My best friends. They’re bee shifters.”
I hear the words, but I don’t understand the words.
Before I can protest or think of legitimate questions he could answer, he’s punching a number into my phone and talking to someone that apparently can in fact shift into a damn bee.
He hangs up the phone and hands it back to me, much calmer now. “They said they could be here in twenty. They live in town.”
“You trust them? I don’t want them here, in our business, if you can’t swear to me on that omega in there that they’re not going to be a risk to her or the pack.”
He weighs this and starts heading back up the stairs. “Well, I’ve known them almost my entire life and they’re married to my sister, so I’m good with vouching for them.”
∞∞∞
Twenty minutes later on the dot and the so-called bee shifters are rumbling down the house’s driveway with a woman between them, and her eyes are so hopeful as she stares down her brother. I’m guessing that maybe they haven’t spent much time together since he was turned.
“Your sister, I presume?”
He nods. “They probably thought having another woman here might help my omega stay calm.”
“Still not an omega!” Moon calls from the stairs inside, where all the guys are waiting.
Of course I had to fill them in on what was going on.
They immediately jumped right to tearing walls apart like I suggested, but we were able to placate them.
Temporarily. I took advantage of the waiting time to run and get some supplies from the car so I can administer some care to the omega if need be.
I give Anderson and his friends a few minutes before I get too impatient to wait any longer, striding towards them, wanting to remain civil because they’re doing us a huge favor. On the other hand, I’m desperate to start looking for the woman.
They introduce themselves as Arbor, Hawthorne, and Dev, the woman is Aster, and that’s about all the pleasantries my pack gives them before they show their cards.
Now that I’ve expressed an interest in finding what I know to be a true omega, my pack is second guessing their initial assessments based on Moon’s bizarre prejudice and want to see her for themselves so they can start putting pieces together and figure out where we go from here.
As promised, Anderson’s guys do in fact shift into tiny-ass bees, and it’s weird as hell, but when they are able to fly through the halls of the house without issue, I know we’ll get it figured out.
The pack is spread out around the house, and after about ten minutes of waiting in silence, Calloway calls out that they found her, and we all convene in a random hallway upstairs, between a guest bathroom and a linen closet.
Looking at where the walls end in those rooms, it’s somewhat obvious there’s a hidden room between them, and the guys waste no time in tearing at the drywall with whatever tools they’ve managed to scrounge up in the house.
Calloway has a meat tenderizer, Edric, true to fashion, is kicking at the wall with his steel-toed boots, and Clement has a small axe. The rest of us are waiting a few feet back because there’s only so much room for alphas to shoulder side by side in the small space.
They’re through in seconds, then we’re all pulling the sheetrock and whatever we can get our hands on down, busting through as our alphas take over.
There’s still hardly enough room for one of us to squeeze through into the small room, and I can’t even stand up in it when the guys let me get in first to assess her.
What I see in that room breaks my cold, dead heart. This is the most miserable nest I’ve ever seen in my life. No, this is the most miserable nest anyone has ever seen.
She’s been sleeping on a pile of old blankets with a pillow that is closer to paper than a head cushion. Shaking in the corner, there’s only about two feet of foot room between her bed and the secret entrance to the guest bathroom.
I could approach her with all my alpha dominance and bark at her, force her to get out of here and come with me, but that’s not at all what she needs. She’s so scared of us that she can’t even look at me, and the putrid scent of berries and flowers gone bad is overwhelming in the enclosed space.
“It’s okay, Omega. I’m not going to hurt you. We want to help you.”
She can’t scramble any further back from me since she’s in a corner, but she sure tries, turning her head to the side and refusing to breathe in my scent.
A purr surprises the hell out of me when it escapes my chest, my biology reacting to the omega in dire need of affection and care.
I watch in awe as my purr slowly stops her tremors and I somehow convince her to block out every single asshole in the hallway calling out questions and making far more noise than is necessary.
I take a spot in front of the bed and pull my knees up, crossing my ankles as I hang my head and let my purr fill the small cavern of her miserable space. The rotten notes of her scent begin to fade a little, but I still wait for her to make the first move towards me.
Maybe I should have kept an eye on her instead of trying to respect her by staring at the floor.