Page 36 of Bonds and Beasts

We try not to react, but our expressions must reveal our interest because she presses on.

"Every alpha in the room started going feral. The omegas hid. Some of the betas tried to calm things down and called the police, but there were too few of them. So many hands grabbed at me, but I managed to get out before they could take hold. I barricaded the doors to the west wing with Mr. Clocks and Lisa and Mrs. Portridge. The police shot off cans of scent neutralizer into the house. Everyone left and thankfully no one died, but there were injuries.

"Mr. Clocks spoke with the police since my scent was out of control. Lisa stayed with me the first few days, but she had community college classes and Mrs. Portridge had her grandson to look after. And Mr. Clocks had Dr. Fray visit me, who said I should be secluded. That there wasn't anything that could be done outside of the ‘medications’ he assigned to mitigate it."

There's a long beat as we all process this.

"To designate exactly on your birthday, that's pretty precise," Dean points out. "How did it happen so perfectly when it can happen anytime between eighteen and twenty-one?"

She cringes a little and I know.

"Mr. Clocks used designation stimulants?" I ask.

She nods and we all tense. It's not unheard of. The elite love their parties, and a family as old and wealthy as Adison's would have been in that class. Still. Designation stimulants can be dangerous. I've even heard of them being lethal. They cause complications. Complications like...

"The fucking bastard!" Easton says out loud, coming to the same conclusion as me in moments.

"No, you don't think..." Dean says, trailing off and glancing at Adison.

She looks between us all, confused. "What?"

I take her hand. "Sweetheart. Designation stimulants can cause a lot of side effects, but one of the documented ones is damage to the scent glands, causing scent overproduction."

Her eyes go wide. "But damaging the scent glands is only a possible side effect, not guaranteed. So he couldn't have done that on purpose, could he?" Her voice is almost pleading, and I understand the impulse. Mr. Clocks was the only person left to help her after her parents passed. She was in a very vulnerable position. To find out that the person she was trusting to care for her was doing everything to sabotage her has to be devastating. I don't want to hurt her more, but she deserves the truth.

"He may not have been trying to damage your scent glands, but a reliable way to do it would be to give you a higher dose than is medically recommended."

Her brow furrows and her mouth turns down as she pieces through what I'm saying. "So, if he wasn't trying to damage my scent glands, what was he trying to do?"

I've had enough. I need her close for this. Knowing someone tried to do anything like this to a person as kind as Adison, and especially to our mate, is riling up my alpha. I scoop her off her chair and place her on my lap.

"He was trying to accomplish what any overdose would accomplish, Beauty,” I tell her. “He was trying to kill you."

Adison

Trying to kill me. The words still ring in my mind as we leave the restaurant. Bello is apologizing, saying he shouldn’t have brought this up on our day out. I understand, but I’m still in shock from discovering that killing me was the plan.

“But why didn’t he finish the job after I’d become so isolated?” I ask in the car as we drive from the restaurant to the Nest Store.

“Well, with you incapacitated and unable to make appearances to take over your parents’ investments, he may have realized he had a better shot at controlling things with you alive, but out of the way. He may have decided that the risk wasn’t worth it now that you didn’t pose a threat. Was he having you sign things?”

I recall the many papers he’d hand me, claiming they were to keep the estate the same. I didn’t understand the legal jargon, and I trusted Mr. Clocks. I signed them.

I feel heat flood my face. “God, I’m so stupid,” I say out loud. I can’t help it. I’ve never felt so small in my life.

“Stop,” Dean barks. My eyes jump to his. “Trusting isn’t stupid, and someone choosing to trick you and steal from you is never your fault. You shouldn’t have to anticipate the moves of thieves and killers.”

That silences the car real quick. We pull up to the Nest Store.

When we walk through the double sliding doors and into the overly bright fluorescent lights of the warehouse, I realize something with absolute jolting clarity.

I can’t do this.

I’d been so excited to look at nest decorations and to start designing the space with my alphas. I hadn’t considered the reality of the situation at all. I’d been out half the day at the shoot, which was okay because I was mostly tucked in a corner by myself. I only had to engage when I wanted to. Then we’d gone to dinner, but instead of some overly loud and packed place, they’d cleared out a secluded place by renting it for the night.

Now it all comes crashing in. I’d spent nearly an entire year completely alone, with the occasional visit from Mr. Clocks and his fraud of a doctor. Here, people are everywhere. Their eyes flicking to us and then flicking back.

The pack's bodyguards are out front, dressed for anonymity. Bello tied up his hair to hide his identity, and we were going to be led through each section by a store representative who promised to keep us to the periphery.