Page 28

It’s been over twelve hours, and we’re no closer to finding Elliott than we were last night. It’s not like the island is overly large, but the woman seems to have simply vanished without a trace. The concierge would only tell us that she was safe; he refused to disclose her location no matter what we threatened him with. It was his threat to call security that had Sy herding us out the door. We combed every goddamn inch of this godforsaken island, and nothing .

The mood and scents in the villa are sour, with none of us having slept or eaten. We’ve been trying to come to terms with what we witnessed last night. In a rapid shift none of us could’ve predicted, our girl broke down right in front of our eyes, and there wasn’t a damn thing any of us could do to stop it. For all the progress we made this week, knowing we’re right back to where we started is a hard pill to swallow. Hell, we might be even worse off than that because now we know what it’s like to have her.

Sy shuffles into the lounge, his hair in disarray and glasses askew, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a wrinkled shirt. He looks like shit, but I’m sure we all do. He’s carrying something I can’t make out in his hands. He stops a few feet away, almost blankly staring at a small navy case.

“What’s that?” Flint runs a hand through his hair, yawning widely.

“Her Heat Curative.”

The guys and I share a surprised look.

“Where was it?” I murmur.

Not that it matters now. She’s gone.

“Under the bathroom vanity, tucked all the way up against the wall. Even if we could find her, it’s too late. It has to be taken shortly after the onset of symptoms.”

“Fuck!” Raff leans forward, throwing his head into his hands.

“What’s the matter with you ?” I bark, too tired and irritable to deal with one of his tantrums.

Normally, I’d work to figure out the cause then start to talk him through the problem at hand, but considering both of those things are impossible because I’ve already tried to figure them out for myself and failed , why bother?

“She knocked the bag off the counter yesterday when we were in there. It must’ve fallen out, and we missed it when we picked all the shit up.”

The room is quiet. What’s there to say? Elliott left, and we have no way of getting in touch with her. It’s too late, even if we could. Our girl is in heat, suffering alone, while we’re forced to sit back and do nothing. My gut pitches. We have one day left on our reservation, and we’ve already been told there's no way to extend it. They’re fully booked for the next two weeks, which leaves us with little choice. If we can’t find her soon, we’ll be forced to leave the island without her, and my instincts are rioting against the idea.

Glancing out the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sun is shining across the pool despite the dark clouds gathering inside the villa. I need to do something, rather than just sit here on my ass and feel like a fool. I’m the one that fixes things. The one that won’t stop until a problem is solved. Doing nothing is like nails on a chalkboard inside my brain.

I stand, stretching my tired muscles. “I’m going to head back down to the Hacienda.”

“What the fuck for? They won’t tell you where she is,” Raff mutters.

“I’m going down there to call West. If anyone knows what’s going on, it would be her. There’s no way Elliott didn’t get a message to her. ”

“Want me to come with you?” Flint asks.

“Nah, man. I’m good. You all try to get some rest. We can go back out this afternoon and see if we catch a hint of her anywhere.”

He nods, then Sy walks over and offers his hand. “Come on, Alpha. Let’s try to get some sleep.”

Flint reluctantly accepts the help, getting to his feet and following Sy down the hall to his bedroom. The door softly closes behind them, and I stand there for a second in the silence.

“At least they have each other,” Raff whispers.

I’d almost forgotten he was still in here. Running both my hands down my face, a heavy sigh escapes. “Yeah. At least now we know that the current situation with Elliott won’t affect whatever’s happening between them. That’s something at least.”

“It’s my fault, bro.” His voice is so small, I almost don’t even hear him.

“Raff—”

“No. It is. If I hadn’t fucked around with her before the beach, she wouldn’t have lost her medication and she’d still be here with us.”

He looks so dejected and sad. Fuck. Not that I’m much better, but my friend is usually the happy-go-lucky, quick-to-anger type. Seeing him so soft and quiet is fucking with my head.

“It’s not your fault, Raff. She warned us from the beginning that being with her would require patience. Now we know that we should’ve taken that warning more seriously. Moving forward, we can better prepare ourselves on how to counteract this type of thing in the future.”

His eyes flash up to mine. “You think there’s still a future? After everything she said last night?”

For the first time in hours, his scent sweetens a fraction, and if I can give him just a smidge of hope, why wouldn’t I?

“I’m not giving up. Are you?”

“Hell no. I just…” He shakes his head. “I need her, Nix. There’s this big empty hole in my soul without her, and I’m worried we’ll never see her again.”

“Look. The way I see it, I’ve already waited five years to make a move. What’s a few more, or, hell, even another decade? She’s all any of us have ever wanted, and that hasn’t changed. Think about what she said, Raff. Her issue isn’t with us . It’s that she doesn’t deem herself worthy. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t have shit to apologize for. She was up front with us, and we promised that we accepted her exactly as she is. We just need to help her learn to be more kind and patient and accepting of herself , then the rest will follow. So we wait. We do whatever we can to let her know we’re still here, that we’re thinking about her, and that nothing has changed for us. Maybe once the dust settles, she’ll remember just how good things were and she’ll reach out.”

I sound a little overly optimistic even to my own ears, but it’s either that or break down crying, and I refuse to make this any harder on my brothers.

His ragged exhale tugs at our bond. We’ve been through a lot since that first time we raced at the rink, and he’s one of the closest people in my life. It physically hurts me to see him like this.

“She said she loves us.” He looks up at me, blue eyes shining with hope. “That has to mean something, right?”

“It does, and I’m holding on to that with my whole heart, Raff.”

He nods. “Me too, brother. Me too.”

“I’m heading out. I’ll be back soon.”

Making my way through the villa and out the front door, most of it passes in a blur. My thoughts are on the panic and devastation plastered across Elle’s beautiful face, the way she talked about herself like she’s nothing and said we should just let her go. How do we prove to her that couldn’t be further from the truth? If she’s even willing to see us again, of course.

When I walk into the Hacienda, a different concierge is manning the desk, so I decide to try my luck at getting information.

“Hey, I’m staying in the Platinum Villa, and I’m trying to get a message to our Omega, Elliott Mitchell. She’s been out for a while, and I wanted to see if she had stopped in with updates on where she was headed?”

“Oh. Let me see if I have any notes in our system.” His fingers type away while his eyes scan across the screen. His eyes dart up to me nervously, then back down to the computer, then back up at me. His slight eucalyptus scent has gone harsh, and I know whatever he’s reading, it won’t be good. “I’m sorry, sir. It looks like I’m unable to divulge the location of Ms. Mitchell. All I can tell you is that she’s been given other accommodations on the island and is completely safe.”

“Other accommodations…”

“Yes, sir.”

An exhausted growl rumbles my chest, but I know it’s pointless. They won’t help us. Elliott cloistered herself away, purposely making sure we couldn’t find her and help her. My Alpha side is damn near feral with his need to make things right. He isn’t happy his Omega doesn’t want anything to do with him right now, but, like the rest of me, he agrees that this isn’t her fault. Our Omega’s got some shit to work out, and if anyone’s to blame, maybe it’s us for not giving her space last night. Maybe then she would’ve at least stayed at the villa where we’d know she was okay.

“Fine.” I turn away, stalking over to a small seating area tucked away in the corner of the building that offers me just a hint of privacy, and dial West’s number.

It barely rings once, except it isn’t West that answers. It’s Barrett. Why am I not surprised?

“Nixon, what the hell is going on there?”

“I was hoping one of you could tell me.”

“Shhh, West. I can’t hear him over your goddamn growling,” he mutters. “Ziggy, can you calm her down, please? We have a crisis on our hands.”

There’s some muffled voices in the background, gentle soothing—probably from Ziggy—then Porter and Huxley’s low murmurs suddenly reach through the line along with Maxim’s concerned tone.

Oh, goodie. I’m apparently on speaker, and the gang’s all here. Not awkward at all.

Fuck’s sake. What kind of Alpha loses his fucking Omega?

“B, I really don’t have the energy or the patience for this right now. I need to know if you’ve heard from Elliott.”

“All we got was a stupid message from the concierge telling us that she went into heat, and she’d call when she could. Where the hell is she, Nix?” West demands.

“I don’t know. Some shit went down, and she left. We haven’t been able to find her, and the concierge is being less than helpful.”

“Argh!” West’s snarl blares through the speaker, drawing a couple guests' attention. I ignore them. “What happened?”

I relay how close we’d all gotten over the last few days, what little I know about the onslaught of her heat, the nullifiers, and her panic attack. Reliving last night makes me feel even worse now than it did then.

“I should’ve done something.”

“Nix, I’m one of her closest friends, and I didn’t know about any of this. I knew shit was bad with her mom when she was little, but this tells me she’s been harboring a lot more trauma than either Cadence or I were ever aware of.” Her tone is distressed, and I’ll be damned if there’s not a sudden lump in my throat, thinking of how long my girl has suffered with this on her own. “This isn’t on you. Do you understand?”

“Logically, yes, but my instincts aren’t in agreement.”

“Brother,” Barrett chimes in, “no matter what happens, we’re here. As soon as we have more information, we’ll get in touch. If you hear from her before we do, you do the same. We’ll get this all sorted out, I promise.”

“If we don’t find her soon, we’ll be forced to catch our flights tomorrow. But I’m not sure I can just leave her here, guys. What do I do?” My voice breaks, and I take a deep breath in to get my emotions under control.

There’s more low conversation while my heart pounds damn near out of my chest at the thought of getting on that plane.

“Listen, Nixon,” Cadence says, her tone gentle but matter of fact, which I appreciate right now. “Elliott is a big girl, and I know that we all love her—yes, I’m including you and your pack in that too—but she’s going to have to handle the fallout of this on her own. That’s not to say we won’t be here to support her, because we one hundred percent will be, but I know that she wouldn’t want you to suffer the consequences of her actions. If anything, that will make it worse. So if nothing changes, head home tomorrow. We’ll be here waiting for you so we can figure things out together.”

We talk for a few more minutes, and when I finally hang up, I’ve pretty much resigned myself to the fact that tomorrow, we’ll leave this island and the woman we love behind. It’s not the end of our game, I tell myself, just a brief intermission while we figure our shit out. That’s all. We’ll come back out to play stronger and smarter, and we’ll win in the end. I have to be confident and manifest that shit.

Now to convince the others when I’m not even sure I believe it myself.