Page 136 of Wild Omega

“What does she mean?” Callisto asks, a strange timbre in his voice.

“She’s gone,” I reply numbly, leaning both hands on the narrow hall table. “She’s gone to look for someone.”

Only now do I recall the terrible day spent with her throwing up repeatedly as she tested every single alpha scent at the Omega Center. Red’s been searching for someone this entire time, and her heat increased her desperation. We’d gotten so busy with lessons and table reads; I overlooked her search. But Red never forgot.

The apartment feels cold and empty in her absence. It’s hard to believe she walked out of here on her own two feet after enduring such a chaotic and grueling heat. Where could she go, and how long since she left?

I massage my stiff neck, thoughts muddled with fatigue. “She said her heats only ever last for three days, but we slept through the ending.” I count the days out on my fingers, starting early Friday morning, when I found her trying to burn the nest down. Down to the hour, if I assume she left here around dawn a few hours ago. Damn. How could I fall asleep when she was so close to the end?

“We have to find her,” I tell myself. She might be weak or drowsy after her marathon fever.

A lump forms in my throat and I spin away, searching for my phone. Nothing’s in place: clothes, shoes, half-eaten food, and water bottles fight with towels, crumpled wet wipes, our kicked off bedding, and melting Hydrolyte wrappers all across the floor. Swearing under my breath, I finally find my phone in the pockets of jeans I kicked off the first day when Red got herself off on my fingers.

It was so fucking sexy, with that deep roasted-nut scent pouring off her like an avalanche; even the mere memory gives me a hard on. Plus, some of her scent still clings to my fingers, despite washing my hands. I lift my fingers to my nose, just to reassure myself.

She said she’d come back, but why does she think she needs to be better? Is it because she lost control and almost burned down the apartment? “She thinks she’s done something bad,” I murmur as I clench the phone tight. But she hasn’t. Being vulnerable and traumatized isn’t a crime.

I love her just the way she is, and we’ll be able to work through this, but she might not believe so. Red and I still have so much to learn about each other. I pound one fist on the breakfast bar as I slide onto a stool and dial her number. My heartbeat stutters as the line rings. And rings.

It clicks on and I tense with excitement, but the minor pause tells me it’s the answering service.

“You’ve reached Red’s Pizza Parlor. Press one for ‘I don’t give a fuck’ Hawaiian, two for meat lovers’ sex-a-thon text service, or three for ‘never call back’ Margherita.”

I chuckle and then hiccup as tears flow down my cheeks. I laughed so hard when she recorded that silly message in front of me. The line beeps.

“I’m calling to leave a review on the meat-lovers’. It was amazing, and we’ll have you back. Every time. Always. Forever.” I rest my heated hand against my chest, trying to press the pain away. “Please give me a call, Red. We’re worried sick. Love you.”

After ending my message, I groan and drop my head on the bench. I know she’s capable, but can she really manage on her own when she’s dehydrated and exhausted? And does she really think more alphas will help? Maybe I’m simply not enough alpha for her. An alpha without a strong presence might be fun to hang out with, but when it comes to sustaining her through a heat, I’m just not what she needs.

The heavy thump of a big man collapsing rings out from the entry hall. “Callisto?” I call as I fling myself off the stool, sending it tumbling over the floor. I slip on the floorboards as I run.

Callisto huddles on the floor, gasping for air.

Chapter fifty-seven

Callisto

The writing on the wall squirms like it’s a living thing. In a moment it’ll peel right off and attack me. Fear like I’ve never felt before bursts through my soul.See a man about an alpha.It’s my fault. I hurt her so she can’t trust me; now she’s turning to another alpha.

But what if she never returns? So many abused omegas disappear back into bad situations and never see the light of day again.

My throat closes up, like the possibility lodges there, choking my airways. I claw at my neck. I thought I could live with my separation from Red, so long as she was close by. Within reach—in Rickon’s arms, at least. Sweat tickles down my back, and the room closes in, inch by inch. I know it’s impossible, but I can feel the space shrinking to crush me. The floor calls me down into its hard embrace.

“Callisto? Oh, shit!” A blurry Rickon fills my vision. “Tell me what you’re feeling. Does your chest hurt?”

I stare at him, gaping. When did the scrawny little abandoned kid who arrived on my doorstep with just a backpack become so capable? And handsome?

“C-can’t b-breathe,” I gasp out, clinging to his forearm.

My chest flutters strangely. Yeah, my heart’s under attack, but not the sort Rickon’s thinking of. It’s my fault Red’s gone, and I can’t fix it. Maybe because of my selfishness I ruined his one chance at happiness. And for years I didn’t know he was hurting.

But I should have. I should’ve known, after the terrible life he’s had, that he’d cling to anyone who showed him affection, no matter the cost.

My chest clamps. I’ll die here, never able to draw another complete breath, never telling him how much he means to me. Never holding my omega and being her everything. My body spasms, but I curl in tighter as the walls close in. It’s too bright. I want to bury myself in a dark hole to hide from this squeezing.

Strong hands grip my face. “Look at me, Calli. You’re having a panic attack. You’ll be okay, you just need to breathe through it. I promise this will pass.”

Panic attack? He’s speaking a foreign language. The only thing I know is I’ll never be able to breathe again.

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