Page 20 of Primal (The Prey Drive #1)
Chapter 19
Noa
“ I know what you’re thinking!”
She jumps out of the cream boucle chair, hand rising in silent surrender. Rhosyn, the mate of Rennick’s most loyal man, is in my bedroom looking entirely too at home in pink striped pajamas. Her riot of curls is up in two space buns, giving her a sleepover vibe that doesn’t match the reality of our situation. The one where she’s a long fucking way from where she should be. Which is, you know, back with him , in their territory.
“You probably think I’ve been sent here to spy on you and then report back to Lord Stubborn McDickface, but I swear I’m not. Honestly, it’s probably in his best interest that I stay out of the same zip code—hell, state?—as him for a while longer. I’m still mentally workshopping what he’d look like with his wiener cut off and stapled to his forehead like some sad, pitiful little unicorn. My wolf is fully on board with that plan, by the way. Just give me the word, and I’m sure I can make it happen.”
After my brain, still not firing on all cylinders, finally processes her rapid-fire words and threats, I come to the realization that I believe her. I believe if I waved a little checkered flag, Rhosyn would do exactly what she’s described. Probably with embellished flair, too.
But it’s more than just believing her threats. There’s a pull, a little flicker in my gut, the same one I felt the day Seren showed up on our doorstep with sad eyes and an even sadder heart. It’s not loud, not flashy, but it’s there. A quiet understanding that settles in my bones.
Rhosyn and I were meant to cross paths. Fated, not in the mate-bond way, but in thefound-my-peoplekind of way. And just like that, I know we’re going to be friends. The fiercely loyal, mildly feral, help-you-bury-a-body kind of friends.
And there’s a sense of peace that settles over my aching being with this knowledge. The kind that quietly whispers that life can’t be all loss, that something good has to come from this pain, and maybe that something is her.
Maybe this kind of steadfast belief makes me insane, but even if it does, I don’t give a shit.
I wonder what Seren will think about our duo becoming a trio? Hold up, Noa, you dumbass. You’re getting ahead of yourself. What if Rhosyn doesn’t want to be part of your little unofficial lady gang? Wait, why wouldn’t she want to be friends with us, we’re awesome. You know, when we’re not having our souls ripped ? —
“Noa?” Rhosyn’s worried voice brings me out of my internal and one-sided ramblings. Her green eyes are full of the same concern when I look into them.
I find myself shaking my head and answering her earlier question, “I didn’t think that.”
Her fawn brows lift in silent question.
“I didn’t think you were here to spy on me,” I clarify.
Her face lights up with relief, a tentative smile pulling on her lips. For the first time, I note the little gap she has between her two front teeth. It’s endearing as hell. “I’m really glad to hear that. I know trust probably feels impossible right now. Especially when it’s coming from someone tied to…him. But I mean it, Noa. We wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t on your side.”
My question asking what she means by “we” is overtaken by the violent shiver that erupts down my spine and then down my limbs, making my already sore muscles convulse.
As if suddenly horrified by her own obliviousness, Rhosyn’s hand slaps over her mouth, concealing some of the embarrassment now reddening her cheeks.
“What the hell, Noa!” she exclaims through her fingers, bulging eyes taking in the way I’m still standing in nothing but a bath towel, my clothes still clutched to my chest, and the water dripping from my hair making a small puddle at my feet. “You’re literally standing there half naked, and I’ve been ranting about limp-dick unicorns. Why didn’t you say something?” Without another word, she spins on her slipper-covered feet—she really is dressed like she’s here for a slumber party—and moves toward my open en suite’s door. “Get dressed, I’m going to grab your blow-dryer. I’ll help you dry that mane you call hair. It looks like a two-person job.”
My refusal is like a gut reaction despite the way my body and mind protest the very thought of putting the energy into doing something as trivial as styling my hair. Before I found Rhosyn in here, my plan had been to just throw it up into a wet bun and then crawl back into bed as soon as possible. The energy expelled to make it through my shower has left me feeling exhausted.
“You don’t?—”
She won’t hear it.
“But I’m going to anyway!” Hand on the doorframe, Rhosyn looks over her shoulder at me. “Look, I have an aunt—on my mom’s side. Her fated mate broke his side of their bond. I was little, but I still remember how hard it was. How unbearable it looked. She tried to go it alone, kept telling everyone she didn’t need help, that she was fine. She wasn’t.” Her voice softens. “But, Noa, wanting to be strong doesn’t mean you have to do this by yourself. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in being here these past three days, it’s that you’ve got people in your corner. More than you probably realize. And letting us help you through this? That’s not weakness, it’s the bravest thing you can do.”
Her kind words, too kind for someone who really is a stranger to me despite my budding inherent connection to her, are what start the ache in my throat, the squeeze around my heart. But it’s the small detail she said so innocently, almost offhandedly, that nearly steals the breath from my lungs.
“It’s been three days?” I rasp.
I spent three days drowning in the agony he left me with when he decided I wasn’t worth it. That the Goddess got it wrong when she chose me for him. That he and his pack were better off with Talis.
“Yeah…” She nods. “It’s been three days since Rennick did what he did—since he severed his side of the bond.”
The steady ache in my chest spikes the moment Rhosyn says it, like she spoke life into the emptiness, and it’s now demanding that I give it my full attention.
It gets its wish.
The whimper, which sounds awfully like an omega whine to my ringing ears, escapes my burning throat and bounces off the walls. And I’m helpless as my body caves in on itself and my legs collapse under me. Rhosyn is at my side before I can fully comprehend the pain radiating in my kneecaps.
It takes the entire duration of Rhosyn blowing out my waist-length hair for the sharp, excruciating pain to settle back into something duller. Manageable, if only barely. The steady ache I’d first woken up to, the one that allows my lungs to take in air without it burning and I can think without wanting the darkness to consume me, returns like some twisted prize.
She didn’t ask me anything, didn’t try to fill the space with mindless chatter or try to drag words out of me that I wasn’t ready to give. Bless her. Still, I didn’t miss the flickers of curiosity, the thoughts she was clearly keeping back when our eyes met in the vanity mirror. She kept them to herself, something I was thankful for because I wasn’t ready for another emotional collapse.
She had said they—whoever they are—have been here since we left the clearing. Three days ago. Between Potion soft, too quiet to make out, but urgent. My spine straightens, every nerve in my body flaring to sluggish awareness. The floor creaks under a set of approaching footsteps. No, two sets. Quick. Deliberate.
It takes my scrambled senses a second too long to realize the sound is coming from around the corner.
From the hallway that leads to the cellar stairs.
As far as I know, the only people down there right now are Edie and Siggy. And as far as I know, Siggy hasn’t wanted to leave the solitude or safety of the basement dwelling since she arrived. I’d offered to sit outside on our covered patio the day before my world turned upside down, but she had refused me. Still too raw, too on edge. If she’s come up here…something’s wrong.
The whispers grow louder, the footsteps more determined.
I push away from the table and stand.
The motion is too fast.
The room tilts sideways, the edges of my vision darken, and my poor legs scream in protest as they shake beneath my weight. They’re stiff, sore, still weak from the events of the past few days. But I lock my knees and force myself to stay upright, gripping the back of the nearest chair for balance.
Instinct tells me my Nightingale won’t be in any danger with Rhosyn and Canaan, but instinct only gets a partial vote. The rest is ruled by years of lessons drilled into me by Mom. Lessons that taught me to be ready, always.To step between danger and the people you’re meant to protect, no matter what condition you’re in. So, yeah, my body might be shot to hell, but I’ll still throw myself in front of Siggy without a second thought.
The footsteps are getting closer now, steady but rushed. Still muffled by the hallway, still out of sight.
I turn to face the arched entrance of the kitchen, faintly aware that the Fallamhain Pack members and Seren have also stood from the table. Canaan’s presence is a quiet weight at my back. Heavy. Watchful. My anxiety spikes on Siggy’s behalf, not knowing how she’s going to react when forced to confront strangers. One of them being an alpha male.
“I don’t believe you anymore.” Siggy’s voice carries down the hallway, disembodied but growing clearer with every step. There’s strength in it, sure, but each word is laced with worry she’s not quite able to hide. “You and Seren told me days ago she was just sick or something, but that she was getting better. If that were true, Noa would’ve come to see me. Even just for a minute. She would’ve checked in. But she hasn’t.”
Oh, Siggy. I’m so sorry.
The fact that she’s left the safety of the basement—her nest—to come looking for me makes my heart hurt with guilt. That space is her newfound sanctuary, the one place she’s felt secure enough to exist without all-consuming fear, and yet here she is, braving the open space above ground because she’s worried about me. That shouldn’t be her job. She’s the one who needs protecting right now. Time to heal. It’s supposed to be me who checks in to make sure she feels safe. Me who shows up for her. Not the other way around.
“We’re not lying to you,” Edie says gently, her voice carrying the kind of exhaustion that only comes from repeating the same truth over and over. It’s the sound of someone who’s been trying to reassure a frightened omega for hours—maybe days—and is running out of ways to say the same thing. “Noa just hasn’t been strong enough to make it down to see you yet.”
“Whatever,” Siggy huffs, skepticism woven into the sound. I can’t fault Siggy for the intense level of distrust she’s displaying. If I had to live through what she’s endured, I wouldn’t easily trust another damn soul, either. “But I’m still going to find her so I can see with my own two eyes that you haven’t been trying to feed me a bunch of bullshit?—”
Right as she’s passing the kitchen entrance, the Nightingale stumbles to such an abrupt stop when she catches sight of me out of the corner of her eye that poor Edie, looking frazzled as hell, slams straight into her back.
Siggy barely flinches, her posture rigid, attention fixed on me and only me.
Big, sharp dark blue eyes rake over me from head to toe, quietly assessing. She doesn’t say a word, but the furrow between her wheat-colored brows is enough. I can practically see her mentally cataloging every visible sign of damage, and from the way her expression tightens, I know it’s taken her less than five seconds to clock how bad it really is.
“Noa,” she breathes my name, relief twining with her obvious concern. “What happened to you? You look…”
The weight of her unfinished sentence lingers in the air, thick with emotion, but it doesn’t get a chance to settle because a sharp gasp cuts through the silence like a whip.
“ Sigrid ?”
The girl’s gaze darts past me, locking on to someone over my shoulder. I see the shift in her expression instantly. Recognition and disbelief sparking in her wide eyes.
“Rhosyn? Canaan?”