Page 114

After the confrontation at the gala and the hospital, I traveled to the first place I could think of. Where I knew Baylark Pack would never look for me. They hadn’t helped me when I was homeless before, but this time they did. Especially after I was honest about everything I’d been going through. I hadn’t intended to still be here a month later.

But I’d found a strange rhythm in The Barracks, it turned out that heartbreak really got my creative juices going, and I had aburst of inspiration for a film project. I never realized how much I let fear put my life on hold until now.

I ignored the buzz of my phone in my pocket. Knowing it was another message from Baylark Pack, begging me to reconsider. I didn’t want to have the same conversation with them. The one I’d repeated on a loop for the past month. There were more important things to focus on than broken hearts.

I deserved a medal for my growth.

“No, no, and ahh—” Thorn shot me a glare. “No. I’m at capacity for social visits.”

“Last I checked, this was my apartment and we already have guests. You better let her in.” Clay laughed from inside. “She might get you with those nails, Thorn.”

I flashed my impeccable manicure in his direction with a wink. Pastel pink. Thorn swung the door open with a beleaguered expression.

“Thank you.” I pressed my hands together.

I couldn’t do anything about the hook in my soul, apart from pushing it down until it became like a stone in my shoe. Rubbing, rubbing, rubbing at my insides. Baylark Pack and everything that happened flitted at the edges of my vision as Thorn ushered me in.

“You need to get some friends, lamb.”

“Isn’t that what we are?” I said.

There were four people playing cards at Clay’s dining table. A trio of elderly Designated, two men and one woman, pressed in next to Clay. Thorn walked behind Clay and gripped his wiry shoulders. His thumbs slipped under Clay’s tank top and the man’s eyes fluttered closed. I hovered in the doorway until Clay snorted.

“You wanna play a game?”

I wanted a lobotomy so I would stop missing Baylark Pack. But at Clay’s lopsided smile, I put aside the morose train of my thoughts.

It was a spacious room, with rugs overlapping on the floor. There were lights strung on the ceiling and in the corner of the room, a cozy bed. My gaze sharpened on Clay. The way he leaned back into Thorn. Thorn wasn’t a man of many words, but he said a lot with his commanding touch. Clay tossed his cards on the table.

“This is Tully Hartlock.” Thorn introduced me to the trio.

I’d never seen them before, but Clay was a social butterfly who collected people with a flash of his smile.

“An omega for your pack?” The older lady pushed up her crooked glasses. Her white hair was pulled into a bun, she had a bold red lip. The other two men looked between us with a smile.

“Oh, young love, remember when we looked like that?” One man said, laying his cards down with care. He was all limbs like a spindly tree. They had no scent, and it was hard to know what Designation they were because of it.

That wasn’t uncommon in The Barracks, it was safer to hide your scent.

“I know your memory is going if you remember looking like these three,” The other man exclaimed, before thumping his fist over his barrel chest. “Me, on the other hand, that’s some classic good looks for the ages.”

He gave me an indulgent wink and a flush sprang into my cheeks. His forehead had deep grooves, but there was an innate strength in his aging body.

“I don’t need an omega.” Thorn brushed a hard kiss on Clay’s head, as his gaze dropped to the table. “Tully is just… a friend.”

Clay winked as I let out a hum of pleasure.

“I knew I’d win you over.”

“Don’t get a big head. You twisted my arm hard enough.”

The idea that I could bully Thorn into anything was laughable. But the warmth in my chest distracted from the jagged scars on my heart. My phone buzzed again. Clay reached out and tousled my hair.

Clay and Thorn were childhood friends turned lovers, something I’d learned since I moved in down the hall. Thorn used the down payment I gave him on my fake ID and put it toward an apartment. Both he and Clay had been like tattooed guardian angels since I found out Baylark Pack lied to me. I think they wanted to make up for leaving me hanging when Fenella threw me out.

Thorn turned on his heel and wandered back to the cramped kitchenette, pulling down a few mugs. Under the cozy light of Clay’s home, he lost some of his savage edge.

“How is your project going? A little birdie told me you got Lockjaw talking.” Clay collected the cards and arched an eyebrow at the older Designated. “Tully here is a budding filmmaker. Remember her face, she’s going places.”