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It doesn’t matter that Blaise’s beta is out of the picture now, the damage has been done and I don’t know how we’re meant to come back from that.

What Idoknow is that nothing is going to get done until we get somewhere with this omega…I just have no ideawherewe might be heading. I only know there’s a compulsion riding me hard to get to know her better for some reason.

I glance over at Xar. He’s gripping the steering wheel tightly, his jaw set in that determined line of his. I know he’s fighting the urge to break the silence, to talk himself into a plan that’s already starting to feel like a bad idea. But I’m not going to stop him. At least this time, we have a plausible excuse, even if it’s barely a thread.

Blaise is quiet too, his eyes fixed out the window, looking as distracted as I feel. The radio is off. We’re all just waiting.

As the farmhouse looms ahead, I feel that familiar knot in my stomach again. The place looks even more imposing in the rain, the windows dark, the door cracked slightly open. I frown. That isn’t safe.

What if something’s happened to her?

Xar pulls the car up to the drive and cuts the engine. The silence is deafening as we all look out the windscreen at the house. There’s something about it that feels off now, something that makes the air thicker, more oppressive.

I can’t drag my eyes away from the damn door. Why is it open when it’s raining? Why is it open full stop? If she’s not standing right on the porch, the door should be shut. It isn’t safe.

A warning rumble of discontent starts low in my chest and I have to suppress it before the others catch wind of it. I shift in my seat, trying to shake off the nerves. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

Blaise grins, but it’s a half-hearted one. “Sure. Maybe she’ll finally throw that rolling pin. I’ll take bets on it.”

I snort, though it’s not really funny. “Shut up, Blaise.”

“Hey, I can’t help it, the feisty little thing wielding that rolling pin got me harder than I’ve been in months.”

Xar’s hand lingers on the gearstick, his fingers tightening for a second before he exhales, finally breaking the silence. “Right. I’ll do the talking. You two just follow my lead.”

“Not sure the ‘plumbing’ excuse is going to fly,” I mutter, already dreading the awkwardness of it. I know it was my idea but now that we’re here it seems…lame.

I crack my knuckles again. It’s a bad habit I really should break, but in the grand scheme of a rockstar’s vices, I could be addicted to far worse.

“It’ll work.” Xar sounds more sure than he looks, but there’s a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “It has to.”

We get out of the car, and the rain immediately soaks through my jacket. To think, we could have been spending Christmas in the Bahamas or some other paradise if we could get our shit together. Instead we’re in the middle of nowhere in the Devonshire countryside, just outside a tiny little village called Silver. And it’s constantly pissing it down. There’s certainly nosilverlining that I can see. I had hoped we’d at least be able to enjoy a winter walk on the nearby Silver Sands beach, but it feels like it’s never going to stop raining.

I’d even take snow over this constant grey drizzle that soaks you to the bone.

I glance up at the house again, my gaze lingering on the faint glow of light filtering through the window. I swear the whole house was in darkness when we approached.

For some reason, the place doesn’t feel as welcoming this time. It feels more like a barrier, like something we should avoid.

But it’s too late to turn back now.

Xar walks up to the door, knocking sharply, the sound echoing through the quiet even as the door swings open on noisy hinges. I stay a few steps back, glancing at Blaise, who shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets.

Then there she is. Looking exactly the same: the same wary expression, her arms folded tightly across her chest like she’s bracing for impact. I can feel the tension radiating from her, but there’s something else, too. I don’t know if it’s the rain or the way she looks at us, but it almost seems like she’s…waiting for something.

Xar takes a deep breath, a forced smile on his face. “Miss—,” he starts, his voice softer than I expected.

“Eviana,” she replies firmly. I swear I see her stomp her foot under another long, flowing, floral skirt, but I can’t be sure.

“Sorry?” I blink, my brows drawing together in confusion because I didn’t quite catch what she said.

“My name is Eviana. My friends call me Evie.”

A beautiful, perfect name, for a beautiful, perfect omega.

Whoa, where did that thought come from?

“Evie—” I begin, but she cuts me off again with a fierce scowl.