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“Archer has her,” Ronan murmurs, waving us on again. “He took her home. It’s too dangerous for her to be here with her heat perfume in full effect.”
Declan shouts, panicked. “I thought we had more time! It wasn’t supposed to start until later this week!”
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
FUCK.
Desperation spears me. “I just want Meg. Where is she?”
I expect Declan to rip a chunk off one of us, but he simply nods, somber. His voice is hoarse. “I need to see her.”
Ronan picks up his pace. “Let’s go.”
chapter
sixty-five
“Megera?”
My poor sweet girl whines, tucking her sweaty face into my chest. I tighten my arms around her and wait for the driver to open my door. It took some doing to find a female beta on the ride-haling app, but we’re finally home.
I carry Meg into the house, every instinct on high alert. I watch to make sure the hired car leaves and double-check that the property’s gate locks behind her. My senses are sharper than usual—I can tell that Mrs. Fleming is gone from just a cursory sniff of the air.
We instructed her to take leave, starting today. It seemed prudent given how shy our omega is about her heat. Mrs. Fleming spent the better half of the week deep cleaning everything and stocking our kitchen with pre-made meals.
I’m glad she won’t see us like this. My Alpha is half-feral from the smell of Meg. God knows what Ronan will be like when he gets here. Or Declan.
I force down my fury at the thought and focus. If I get Meg into a cool bath, it should keep her lucid enough to talk to me. I want her to know she’s safe at home before she loses sight of where she is and what’s happening.
I also need to know if she wants us all to bond during this heat.
It would make sense if she declined, given the circumstances. But honestly, I am praying she says yes. Today was hell. If we were bonded, I would have heard her distress. She could have shown me where she was, and we would have found her much sooner.
I’m not sure how much longer any of us will last without that tie to her. Not just for safety, either.
I truly can’t describe the way I need her.
Every day, our relationship runs deeper and deeper, like a river carving a canyon. I’m walking around with a chasm inside me. A place made just for her.
I think we all are.
In her bathroom, I strip both of us and climb into the tub with her, cupping handfuls of cool water over her limp limbs. Her lashes flutter three times before they finally fall open. Dazed blue peers up at me.
She blinks, the movement sluggish. A tremble moves through her as she stutters in a whisper, “A-Archer?”
Emotion blocks my throat. Guilt, worry, and love thick enough to strangle.
“I’m here, sweetheart,” I murmur. “You’re safe at home now.”
She shudders in my arms, her head lolling against my bare chest. “I-I’m sorry about the game,” she slurs. “I tried to hold it off, but I think I’m in heat now.”
I don’t know if I’m closer to laughing or crying at the absurdity of her apologizing to us. For this. “You did nothing wrong, my love. You were perfect. The rest of your alphas will be here any minute and we’ll take care of you, okay? You can relax.”
I know she won’t. Her biology won’t allow her to until we’re all together. Still, I massage her arms and hands, hoping to at least put her at ease.
The tension in her back slowly releases. She tries to look up at me, her eyes searching in the dim, unlit bathroom. “Alpha?”
