Page 4

Ambrose

I twist around on the couch, staring at the bathroom door, confusion knitting my brows. Seraphina just bolted in there but I have no idea what the fuck just happened. I swing my gaze back to the guys, sitting up straighter. “What the fuck was that all about? And why does it smell like berries?”

My chest churns, a deep, gnawing need for her clawing at me. It’s not just want, not just the usual pull. It’s like she’s mine, ours, in a way that’s bigger than words. My nostrils flare, soaking up more of that wild scent, a scent that’s wholly Omega. I lock eyes with Callum, who’s slumped across from me on the floor, his face tortured, gray eyes dark with information he’s clearly been holding back from us. “Spill,” I demand, leaning forward. “What’s going on?”

Callum exhales, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “We all know the lavender isn’t her scent. You just caught her real scent, Ambrose. Wild berries. Reminds you of summer? Yeah, that’s her. I think she’s terrified we’re gonna pounce.”

I blink, my lip ring catching between my teeth as I process his words. Lyle shifts beside me, groaning low as he adjusts himself in his jeans, the bulge between his thighs a little more than obvious. “Fix that,” Callum mutters, gesturing at Lyle’s lap with a tired nod.

Lyle’s eyes widen, his voice strained with the same need I’m trying to calm at the moment. “You knew? How could you survive not touching her all the goddamn time? Or holding her? Kissing her? Fuck.” He shifts himself in his jeans again before sitting forward like that’s going to hide the monster between his thighs. Our scents are starting to overtake the descenter, Callum reaching across the coffee table to throw us one of the many bottles Seraphina keeps around the room.

Now that I know she’s ours, the last thing I want to do is spray myself in chemicals, but I also don’t want to scare the shit out of her.

Callum lets out a heavy sigh as he watches us, only relaxing when our scents seem to disappear again. “I knew her growing up. Caught her scent a few times back then. She wasn’t ready for us then, and she definitely isn’t now. I think the evening might be done. I refuse to spook her when we’re the only connection she truly has to the outside world.”

I chew harder on my lip ring, glaring at the bathroom door. It makes sense that Callum would know her real scent since he and Felix were friends first. Lyle and I didn't come around until after Seraphina had already tucked herself away inside.

The first time Felix explained the rules to come into his apartment, I thought he was joking. And then, I saw Seraphina and told myself I would do absolutely anything she needed me to.

We didn't come over often; Felix meeting us at the bar or a restaurant but in the last few months before he died, we spent much of our time at the house. Seraphina naturally gravitated toward us, even as skittish as she was until those sweet smiles and adorable giggles were because of us.

My hands itch to yank it open, to pull her close and erase that fear. But Callum’s right. She’s fragile, teetering on an edge we can’t see. I’ve never wanted more to know what the fuck happened to put that fear in her eyes, though. Who put it there? Because I’m going to track him down and rip out his throat.

The door creaks open and my expression softens as Seraphina slips out, the hair framing her face damp. She kneels at the edge of the coffee table, hands fisted on her knees, terror rushing through her expression in waves. Knowing she’s ours makes me want to drag her into my lap and make it all go away. But that’d terrify her and I’m not an asshole.

She clears her throat, her voice shaky as she speaks. “I’m so happy you came for Callum’s birthday,” she mumbles, eyes darting between us. “But this… this is our last night together.”

My heart stumbles. She’s holding back tears, her body starting to tremble. Lyle shifts, starting to stand, but she whimpers, a small, terrified sound that freezes us all. I almost lean forward but think better of it, fighting against my instincts. “Angel, what’s going on?”

She stares at me, and fuck, her eyes nearly break me. There’s so much pain there that my breath catches. She shifts uncomfortably on her knees, hands fisting a little tighter before she speaks again. “I can do it on my own,” she whispers. “I know I can. You guys need to find families. Omegas of your own. They wouldn’t like you here with me.”

A small growl cuts through the tension before Callum cuts it off. “Sweetheart, is there a reason you’re pushing us away? I thought we were doing all right. Is something wrong?”

Tears spill down her cheeks now, full-on sobs racking her small frame. “It’s just unfair,” she chokes out, hands covering her face.

Callum steps closer, his voice softer. “Life’s unfair, Fi, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to be here. Talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Lyle moves this time, ignoring our silent warnings. He rounds the couch, his big frame looming as he plops down beside her on the floor. Before she can flinch, he drags her into his lap, arms wrapping tightly around her back. She presses her hands against his chest, mumbling something about how ‘she can’t’ but her protests are over just as fast as she collapses against him, sobbing into his shirt.

His purr rattles through his chest, filling the room, Lyle rocking her back and forth as one hand strokes through her hair. My brows shoot up as I mouth “what the fuck” to Callum. He just sighs, leaning against the wall, looking as lost as I feel.

Lyle’s voice is gentle, barely above a whisper. “Baby, talk to me. What happened?”

Silence meets his words, broken only by the occasional hiccup as she buries her face deeper into his chest. She’s torn between need and whatever the fuck she was trying to tell us about finding our own families. Her instincts are pushing through, that wild berry scent meeting my nose again. My guess is her heat’s close, making it harder to deal with whatever is plaguing her.

I resist the urge to groan, my leg bouncing as I fight the need pooling in my gut. I don’t know what’s wrong and it’s driving me up the wall.

She calms slowly, her sobs fading to shaky breaths. “I’m just selfish,” she finally mumbles into Lyle’s chest. “And crazy. Nothing’s wrong. You should go. Maybe the club.” Seraphina pulls back, smacking away at her tears, leaving little red prints on her pale cheeks. “That’s what you’d do, right? Find a nice Omega, have cute little children.” Her voice cracks as she climbs from his lap, her cheeks puffy from crying. “Maybe one day you could bring them over.”

There’s no fucking way she’s serious. We’ve never talked about wanting kids—not that we don’t, it’s just never been a topic and as far as I know, none of us have ever mentioned families. I think we were all secretly hoping Seraphina would be ours in some way, at some point in the future.

She sniffles, smacking away at her cheeks again, trying to smile and failing. “It’s fine. I’ll clean up. You go have fun.”

We’re sitting around the coffee table, confused as fuck, Seraphina leaving us to head for her bedroom. It’s only when she freezes as the door swings open that I realize the gravity of her emotions, of what she’s feeling, of what she thinks she had to tell us. Her scent thickens, a sour acidic edge to it that draws me in like a moth to a flame as she lets out a horrified, broken whimper.

I rush over to her just as she sags back against my chest, the destruction of her nest coming into full view. It’s a fucking disaster. Like someone took a knife to her safe place. My chest caves and for the first time, I feel her— really feel her. Anguish, despair, fear, all crashing through me like a wave. But there’s something else, faint but real. Love. For us. It’s there, buried under the mess, and it nearly takes me to my knees.

“Angel, what happened?”