Page 119 of The Forgotten

“That’s true. Let’s go,” Deacon says, sliding out of his seat to follow Róisin.

The three of us become her shadows as she walks quickly through the streets. It’s so dangerous here. I want to scream at her that there have to be better jobs out there that’ll allow her to move in the safety of the day, but I don’t think she cares about that.

Róisin Ó Cléirigh wants anonymity. Club Serene doesn’t want or need much of her information, they keep her safe, and they don’t ask questions. What better way to heal than this way?

No one is on the streets but us as she gazes up at a building finally and smiles. It transforms her entire face, and I nearly trip over my own feet as I see it. She's bundled tightly in a long coat, jeans, and top in deference to the cool Minnesota weather.

I have no idea how she managed to cross the country on her own, but I am grateful to see her beautiful smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.

“This is a sanctuary for displaced omegas,” Deacon says to us. He’s careful to make sure that his voice doesn’t travel, and we’re standing in the shadow of the building across from Róisin. This is the first time we’ve followed her home.

Soon, it’ll be time to reveal ourselves. For now, she’s comfortable, but we’re going to blow all of that up. My lips press together as I hold back my thoughts. She should be with us, she has alphas, she’s not fuckingdisplaced.

“Soon,” Dorian promises softly, watching as Róisin disappears down an alley. “Enjoy your serenity, Tiny Dancer, because it’ll end very soon.”

The promise and threat feels heavy in the air, but I’m done waiting. The kingdom belongs to us, for better or worse, and we need our Queen.