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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

GRACE

“ G race?”

Leo’s voice is tentative which is so unlike him.

Water. I demand, because my esophagus feels like sandpaper lined with broken glass.

He guides the cup to my lips and I drink until my throat aches. How hard and long had I screamed for my sister as she drowned on that cursed ship?

I slap myself and also grab my hand, confusion and fury etched onto his face.

No, I can’t think like this. Faith is alive. She’s that beacon. And she’s trapped on the most dangerous sector of this godforsaken island.

He places the book into my lap but I don’t open it. I don’t want to read. I don’t want to escape. I was to live and breathe any emotion outside of my pain.

“Eyes are the windows into the soul and books are portals to different worlds,” Leo says to my astonishment.

What story does mine tell? I ask.

My eyes.

He looks away and swallows hard, the scars around his neck tightening, constricting like a white snake.

Food? I ask

When you’re ready.

I’m hungry now.

And your throat is a mess. Wash first.

Scrubbing my breasts and butt aren’t as important as filling my belly right now.

He grins pierced ear to pierced ear, licking his lips, his expression soft and searching.

“Yes. But smelling like that will sour your meal the second I light a flame. Trust me.”

“No. Help me up. We have to go.”

“Save Faith.”

He falls silent, pensive, and I get dressed in my grimy shorts and bikini bra. At some point, we have to find some decent clothes.

“Trying to say I stink?”

Leo’s smile softens. “Our sense of smell is stronger than an omegas.”

“What do I smell like?”

“Sadness.”

“What do I usually smell like to you?”

It’s the one quirk of human biology I’ve never understood. Why can’t we smell our own pheromones? When I get sick off my scent, it doesn’t smell like a thing. Just an orderless gas that has the same effect.

No.

I don’t need to be carried.

I don’t need to carry you. I want you… close, Grace.

Using my first name? The hornets nest on my head must be worse than I initially thought. I really do look like a wreck.

“I want us to make a new deal,” I say with as much force as I can muster. “

“Don’t bother,” Nakao says wearily. “Your sister is dead, Grace. Accept it. Blue Fox is more important than recovering a corpse.”

I don’t respond. He grabs me and with

“She’s not dead,” I say.

“And if she isn’t. If she’s really where you say she is, she’s better off dead.” Nakao says and while they don’t say anything, I know they all agree.

I sob. I grieve. For the first time, I accept I may never see my sister again.

“What if she is.” Raphael of all of my pack mates, offers.

“...Then we save her. Simple as that. But we have to get to Blue Fox first. We have to face our past.”

“Where is Blue Fox?”

“Hell,” Leo mumbles, and then dives underwater.

My mind is too fractured and fragile to press it any longer. If they’re willing to try, I’ll piece what’s left of me together. Togther… We’ll fight, together.

Steam rises around me as I’m gently dipped into the hot springs. Large tan legs and arms warp around me as our naked bodies press together.

Leo and Nakoa climb in, flanking us, until their warmth, mixed with the steamy fog, and my heat, are overwhelming.

I feel so loved. I feel so cherished. So perfect even with all my imperfections.

Deep down I know this is all a lie, that there’s no such thing as fated mates. Our feelings are just a chain reaction of chemical reactions mimicking the thing I want to call love.

But, for once in my life, I’m happy to be born an omega.

Because, battle scars and all, I was born to be their omega. I know this deep down in my shattered soul.

My alphas always know exactly what I need, exactly when I need it.

And, right now, all I need is them. Their cruelty, their hatred, their years of isolated that have driven them mad.

I need everything evil and broken and ugly within them to bond with every unworthy piece of me, so we can mend each other, and become something so fierce and vicious we take this island and drive it to the bottom of the sea.

I climb into Nakoa’s lap and without a word, he sinks his fangs into the base.

“Apex!”

We climb out, get dressed, and receive the briefing.

“We face the present by confronting the past,” Nakoa says.