Chapter 7
ELOWEN
I try to study, but all I can think about is Olivia. Not even Lila buying an old copy of Forever Amber in the bookstore in town and promising me that I’ll be a changed woman when I finish it has dragged me out of my funk.
I set the pen down and look out the window.
The greenhouse sits beyond the slope, glass panes catching the last of the dusk light. Warm. Patient. Familiar.
I don't question the pull. I close my notebook, slip on my worn boots, and leave.
The path is empty at this hour. October has brought with it a chill that requires jackets, even when the sun is shining, and carries the scent of damp leaves and woodsmoke from somewhere distant. My footsteps sound louder than usual against the stone.
But inside the greenhouse, summer persists.
Calder is seated at the far bench working on a small wooden tray. His hands move with slow precision as he sands the edge smooth, the compass tattoo on his forearm visible in the amber light. He looks up when I enter and acknowledges me with a quiet nod.
I close the door behind me and sit at the table across from him, close enough that I can hear the rasp of sandpaper and the steady rhythm of his breathing. Close enough to breathe in that cedar and cold air scent. Close enough to give me some respite from my rambling thoughts.
What if Gideon is right? What if I’m one of the last people to see Olivia alive? It’s painting everything in muted shades of gray and I don’t know how to get the color back.
The silence stretches between us, comfortable and unforced. He returns to his work. I watch the wood shavings gather on the bench, fine and pale, catching the light.
"You okay?" His voice is low.
"I couldn’t concentrate."
He nods like that makes perfect sense. He doesn't look at me when he speaks, his attention stays on the tray, hands steady as he smooths a rough edge.
"I went to see Olivia." I chew my bottom lip. “I’m scared, Calder.”
He sets the tray aside and finally looks at me. "I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise."
I believe he means it, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying. "What if it’s beyond your control?"
He walks around the table and folds me into his arms. The feeling of safety engulfs me in a heartbeat with the beating of his heart beneath my ear as I rest my head on his chest. His arms are strong.
His body is warm. And his scent takes my mind off my fears, long enough for me to smile against his sweater.
When he pulls away, he holds my arms and maintains eye contact. “What are you afraid of?”
That some kind of previously unknown illness is attacking omegas in colleges. That Gideon Stockwell’s conspiracy theory is right. That someone killed Iris, Lydia, and Shannon, and now they’re targeting Olivia.
“I’m afraid she’ll die of natural causes like the others, and everyone will believe it.”
He studies me closely. Then, “You don’t believe it?”
I shake my head and take a deep breath. “I don’t know what to believe.”
He doesn’t tell me that my fears are unfounded. He doesn’t say that I’ll be fine because I’m strong and healthy. Instead, he says, “That’s understandable. I’d be scared too.”
I smile. “You would?”
“Sure.” He shrugs. “So, don’t ever be afraid to tell me how you feel. I only wish there was something I could do to take those frown lines away.”
Without warning, he smooths the lines between my eyebrows with his thumb, and I feel the contact spreading through me and tingling between my legs.
“I…” My brain needs a moment to coordinate with my mouth. I can think of plenty of things he could do to take them away, and every single one of them involves physical contact that I’m not sure I’m ready for. “Thank you.”
I avert my eyes before he feels the heat radiating from my face. The tray he's been working on sits between us now, smooth edges, careful joints. I realize it's meant to hold seedling pots, the kind that need drainage and airflow.
"For the propagation table?" I ask.
"If you want it." He releases me, and folds his arms, and I wish I could wrap them back around me so that I feel safe again.
I glance down at the table beside me, where a small jar sits, soil packed too tightly around the basil seedling I planted yesterday, the surface uneven. I must have been distracted; I can’t imagine why.
"I think I compacted this too much," I say, more to myself than him. "The roots won't have room."
I drag my hand across the table and flinch when something sharp lodges inside the tender pad of my thumb. I stare at the splinter, a thin sliver of wood protruding from my skin.
I go to lick it, and Calder takes my hand, turning it palm upward. “Stay still.”
My heart starts to race, but I’ve no intention of moving.
He takes my hand carefully, like the way he holds it matters. The contact is brief. His thumb braces mine gently as he eases the splinter free with his other hand, precise and unhurried, while I study his long eyelashes, the curve of his cheek, his lips. His scent wrapped around me like a cocoon.
When he holds the splinter in the air to examine it, our eyes lock.
"Thank you," I murmur. This is the grand movie moment where the leading characters lean in, lips parted, both wanting more from the connection.
Then the door opens, and Tyler pokes his head in, wearing a gray jacket over his usual comfortable layers.
"Thought I'd find you both here." He smiles, assessing the situation before entering. “I’m starting to think aliens dropped something magnetic through the roof while everyone was looking the other way.
I half-turn away from Calder and smile. “Aliens? That’s where you’re going with this?”
He steps inside, hands tucked into his pockets, and shrugs. "Fine. You got me. I miss it when I’m not here."
"I miss it too." I can still feel Calder’s hand on mine even though he isn’t touching me. “I miss this.”
“Must be my scintillating company,” Calder deadpans, breaking the tension.
“You sand wood. I like the smell.” Tyler shrugs. “I like the way Elowen tugs on her braid when she’s thinking. So, maybe I was a bit out of whack with the alien theory.”
“And I thought you were here to give Juniper treats when we’re not looking.” I smile.
Before Tyler can deny it, the door opens again and Julian is standing there, eyes roaming as if searching for a corner to hide in while observing me and the alphas at the same time.
“It’s growing,” he says. “I suggested different soil to Ms. Hartley, but you obviously don’t need it.
” His pale eyes meet mine and look away again as if he said too much.
“Unless you think the seeds would benefit from specialized soil. Your call. I was reading about it in the library. I thought…” His body moves even when he’s standing still, his thoughts bouncing about inside him.
“It’s fine.” I watch him until he stops fidgeting and looks at me. “But I’m always open to suggestions.”
“I’ll bring a book next time. Or would you rather I brought cuttings?”
I smile. “I’d rather you did whatever felt right.”
“We’re all just doing what we do best,” Tyler adds. “I feed the cat.”
“I dazzle them with witty conversation.” Calder shrugs.
“And I’m potentially an alien.” I stand aside and gesture to the propagating table. “An alien with green fingers.”
Frown lines form between Julian’s eyebrows, and I suppress the urge to smooth them away with my thumb the way Calder did to me.
“Maybe I should—” Julian turns to leave.
“Nah, come in,” Calder says, and it feels like hello.
Campus is quieter than usual.
Omegas move around in small groups as though they can contain their fear in numbers.
I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but there appears to be more security around the building, as though they’re expecting Gideon Stockwell to appear from behind a wall at any moment and start accusing someone of attempted murder.
Even Lila is unnaturally quiet whenever we meet in the corridor.
It is late afternoon, three days after I visited Olivia in the infirmary, when Seraphina finds me. She’s grinning, bouncing with energy. “Did you hear the good news? Olivia has been discharged from the medical unit. She’s fine.”
“She’s fine?” I blink at her, processing the information. “She’s fully recovered?”
“Yep. Turns out she had a virus, probably because her immune system was so low after her heat. She just needed to get it out of her system.”
She had a virus! Olivia isn’t going to die.
I’m beaming so widely, my cheeks are aching already.
“Yeah, I had the same look on my face when I found out.” Seraphina places a hand on my arm. “Feels like we’ve all been living in limbo since she got sick. Maybe it’s time to arrange that trip to the leisure bowl.”
I’m still grinning when she walks away. But when I’m alone in my room again later that same evening, the fears start to creep back in.
Because something is shifting inside me.
I feel it low in my belly, and in the way I’ve been rolling my sleeves up all day trying to cool down a little.
My heat isn’t far away.