Page 20

SKYE

I hated the fact that I had become so comfortable with bi-weekly heart biopsies, but it was routine by now, and I had no choice in the matter anyway.

At least they weren’t daily anymore. Being extra careful of the fresh bandages on the right side of my neck from where they inserted the probe to my heart, I shrugged my blouse onto my shoulders and began fastening the buttons, starting at the bottom.

Catching sight of my reflection in the bathroom’s full length mirror, I paused.

I couldn’t look away from my ugly pink scar that seemed to divide my body lengthwise.

On the surface, I was lucky. I was blessed with a new, strong heart, and the doctors were telling me that the scar was healing beautifully.

That was true. There was no puckering, or dog-earing, or raised flesh.

Just a single, almost ruler-straight line with little insect-like footprints where the staples had been tacked in.

The bug-prints were already practically white.

And yet.

I would never have said I had the perfect body, I was as self-conscious and critical as anyone else, but now I felt… damaged, somehow. Second-hand. Like my warranty had been used up and I was past my prime.

Fingers flicking as quick as they could, I did up the blouse and tied the scarf around my neck. I made sure it was loose so it wouldn’t irritate the bandage, yet hide it all the same.

On the bathroom wall was a corkboard with all sorts of fliers and business cards tacked to it.

I browsed the collection just for something to distract me from my melancholy.

I paused when I saw a small poster for an Omega Support Group at the local library.

I pulled my phone from my purse and snapped a photo.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to talk to someone else.

Maybe I’d even make a friend or two. At the very least it would get me out of the house and into the city I had so looked forward to living in.

I left the bathroom, parts of my body still a little numb from the localized anesthesia. Phone still in hand, I texted the group chat.

All done.

Halo

I’ll pick you up in an hour. Love you.

OK. I’ll get lunch in the cafeteria. See you soon.

After two months, I knew Caduceus Hospital like the back of my hand, and even knew some staff, doctors, and nurses by first names. Navigating to the hospital restaurant was second nature at this point. And it was Friday, which meant it was chicken strips day.

Was I in the mood for chicken strips? Not really.

I walked into the restaurant, debating what I should buy. Maybe a nice sandwich on a bagel bun. Or some french fries. I should do the smart, healthy thing and get a salad. With a sigh, I pulled my phone out again.

If I order a chicken Caesar salad, what will I get for being a good girl?

Crux

Whatever you want, bluebird.

Halo

Quality time. You. Me. That warming massage oil you like.

Dots from Severen. Then they disappeared.

My shoulders sagged.

“My heart is brand new, but you sure are trying your best to break it,” I murmured under my breath.

“Small world.”

With a gasp of surprise my head shot up. I fumbled, losing hold of my phone, but my companion managed to catch it. Standing next to me was Rowan, a coffee in one hand, and my phone in the other.

“Thanks,” I said, taking my phone. “What are you doing here?”

“Donating blood,” Rowan answered. “Platelets, actually. It’s something I do every few weeks. What are you doing here?”

“Oh. I’m just here for a checkup.” Nervously I ran my hand through my hair. I hoped it didn’t look too bi-weekly-heart-biopsy-bed-head. “Your reasons are far more noble than mine.”

“What are you ordering?”

“I hadn’t decided. I was considering the chicken Caesar but…” I wrinkled my nose. The time with Halo and the body lotion was far more tempting than the actual salad. “I’m not even really hungry. I just should eat, because it’s important.”

“Were you here with a dietician?” Rowan asked.

“No, I was here for a heart biopsy. Making sure my transplant was strong and thriving.” The truth came so easily to me, for him, and I didn’t understand why.

I could barely stomach it, hated looking at it.

My pack lead practically shut himself off from me, and here I was telling this stranger my deepest truth.

“You had a heart transplant?” Rowan’s voice wavered. “When?”

I eyed him. Maybe my admission creeped him out. I wouldn’t be surprised. “Just over two months ago,” I answered, slowly.

The coffee cup slipped from his hand, and a burst of the hot, dark liquid splashed onto his shoes but he didn’t seem to notice. A look of shock shrouded his face. His blue eyes widened and glittered like pools of water.

His spicy clove scent flared, taking me up in an embrace that felt comforting and precious. And familiar.

“You…” Rowan began. “You have my heart.”

“What… are you saying?”

My heart gave one urgent, yearning leap. It hammered against my ribs like a convict claiming innocence. That was why I felt such an immediate connection to him. Somehow… Rowan knew my heart.

Rowan spoke in a dazed, broken rhythm, like it was the most difficult thing in the world to explain. “My mate. My omega. There was an–. Sh-she died. Two months ago…”

I grabbed his hand, and pulled him out of the restaurant. I didn’t know where I was taking him, only that it had to be somewhere we could be alone.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was dragging him into a family room adjacent to the cafeteria. I shut and locked the door. I took a cleansing breath, my eyes stung with tears. I turned to face him and undid my blouse.

“What are yo–” Rowan didn’t have time to finish the question. I took his hand and placed his palm against my heart.

His hand was warm, the skin on his palm just a little rough. I took a deep breath, then another. It was all I was able to do, just tremble and breathe, expose myself to this alpha who wasn’t mine, yet was. Or rather, could be.

“What happened?” My voice was as intangible as air.

Rowan blinked away the wet shimmer in his eyes. “Car accident.” His voice was ash and dust. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.

“You’re so alone…” I cupped his cheek with my other hand. His jaw tensed under my palm. “I can’t imagine what it must be like.”

I could sense it now, and it was stunning to me that I didn’t feel it before. Cracks in his aura. Damage. Pain radiating out even though I couldn’t see it, I felt it. Draining, devouring, so completely isolating and exhausting.

To know Rowan’s pain made me sick inside. I yearned to take away his agony. I felt responsible for it, like his happiness depended on me. I was the keeper of his mate’s heart and that meant, well, I wasn’t sure exactly, only that his damage made my heart, his omega’s heart, ache.

My hand floated from his cheek to the back of his neck which was slightly tacky with perspiration. I drew him a little closer, or maybe he leaned in. His breath drifted across my face and cooled tear tracks on my cheeks that I hadn’t realized had fallen. I took another deep lungful of air.

I had never been this close, this vulnerable to an alpha who wasn’t mine. But I didn’t feel guilty, or a sense of treachery. Being with Rowan like this felt… natural.

His face was inches from my own, his hand never moved away from my hammering, humming heart.

“We have to tell my pack.”