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Walden’s sisters huddled together in a small armchair, all tangled limbs and tentative smiles.

Walden swiveled in his chair and took another fortifying breath. The sound of Tully’s call going through made my heart lodge in my throat. We’d just finished watching a teaser for her new video series,Hartlock, Unfiltered. She looked self-possessed and strong as she interviewed Designated who lived in The Barracks and showed snippets of their lives. There were gritty parts that Tully didn’t shy away from. Her warm heart shined light in a way that demanded to be seen but not judged. Her editor spliced in footage she’d taken from years ago, featuring her parents.

This new series would do more to shed light on the lingering effects of the HLA than Starhaven’s own council ever had.

“How could she ever doubt how perfect she was for this?” Ajax swiped his hand down over his open mouth.

Lloyd couldn’t look away from his phone.

“Right? She has this energy that invites you in and makes you want to listen.” Beatrice clapped her hands together. Trying to distract us from the very smug, very male voice that had answered Tully’s phone.

“Who was that on the phone? Her editor?” Walden rasped.

My alpha’s perfect poker face faltered like cracks through clay. He scrubbed at his stubbled chin. His sisters hadn’t been able to hide their double take when they walked in and found Walden in stained sweats.

“No, she has an all-women team. She asked us for advice from a PR perspective, and I’ve been wanting to pivot to more marketing-focused projects, so I took it on. Don’t be a douche about this.”

Walden jerked back, “I’m not, it’s just…”

Sybil set her jaw and crossed her arms. “Can you blame us? The worst thing you could do is huff and puff your way down there. I know you expected her to forgive you and come back by now.”

My stomach twisted. It had been over a month since Tully left us and I’d be lying if I said I thought she’d forgive us. Something broke in Tully on the gala night, in all of us, but the ripples she left turned into waves of chaos.

She was finding herself, and it was a scary prospect, to know we might not be a part of that future.

Have you hurt her?

No more than you did.

I knew we were all thinking about the man who answered her phone and who he was.

“He might be a friend.” Ajax scratched at his jaw.

“There are bigger things happening than our pack, I know that,” Walden replied, though he sounded sullen about it. Sybil reached out and rubbed his shoulder.

The triplet omegas thought they were being slick. They worked in shifts, always turning up with errands only Walden could solve. They brushed their fingers over him like he was breakable, and I suppose he was. I’d never seen Walden shatter like he had in the past month. Scruff hoarded his cheeks. My love had a broken heart. We both did.

He was used to being bull-headed with solutions. Forcing outcomes through sheer willpower. But that wouldn’t work with Tully. He rubbed his chest, and I narrowed my eyes, worried about his health.

“Your campaign?” I added.

We were crowded around our comfortable sectional, but I couldn’t stop moving. I hadn’t had a moment of comfort since Tully left. All I could think about was the night of the gala and the look on her face when Chase tossed me the SubduX.

I took my first pill when I was sixteen years old. It was at my debut end-of-year performance at PAMA. I hadn’t slept for almost twenty-four hours and my stomach screamed with vicious cramps.

Try harder.

Practice more.

Impress the agents.

The sound of my parents’ voices followed me everywhere, like a wasp in my ear. Everything hinged on this performance, and I was about to blow it. No matter how many hours I practiced, I kept making mistakes. My right hand trembled and hit the wrong keys.

The audience was full of scouts who had come to watch me specifically. The pressure drove me to the bathroom, where Ithrew up everything in my stomach. My piano mentor held his palm under the bathroom door and urged me to take the innocuous pill. Salvation in a tiny, round form. He promised it would ease my muscles and let my talent shine.

I swallowed it dry, paranoid about the lingering scent of bile that clung to my hunched shoulders.

It hadn’t taken long for my shaking limbs to settle, my watery bowels to still. My cheeks had gotten hot and cold, and a wave of calm settled over me like a blanket. It was the best performance I’d ever done. My body obeyed me.