Page 29 of Primal

When I think of hell on earth, I picture the underground networks that buy and sell omegas like cattle, stripping them of their freedom, humanity, and dignity. The very thought of it and its growing prevalence makes my skin crawl and my stomach rollwith nausea. And knowing that Siggy might have lived through that kind of nightmare? It’s nothing short of horrifying.

“Have you been able to…” When Seren’s question trails off, I glance over my shoulder at her with my eyebrows lifted in silent question. “You said you heard her thoughts that first night. Just like you did with you-know-who. Have you picked up on anything else that will help us piece together her story?

Of course, after I’d said good night to our new Nightingale that first night she was here, you can bet your ass I ran straight to Seren to tell her what had happened for the second time that day. If you start hearing voices in your head, common sense says you should tell someone, unless you’re aiming for a one-way ticket to starring in your own psychological thriller. Things like that can spin out of control,fast, and the only thing that stopped me from panicking about the health status of my mind was reminding myself that I am, in fact, riddled with dormant charmer DNA.

Seren, ever the trooper, sat with me for over two hours while I tried to tune into her thoughts. She’s a saint, not just for putting up with my silly late-night experiment, but for believing me even when I couldn’t make it happen again. While I’d continued to set up camp in the land of denial, Seren had waved me off with a scoff.“You are the daughter of one of the most powerful charmers on record. Did you honestly think you’d never manifest gifts of your own, you cute but delusional dingbat?”were her precise words.

The question is, why would I be manifesting gifts of any kindnow?

Neither of us had an answer for that one.

My head shakes. “I haven’t heard anything else. I’ve tried to stay open or whatever, but it’s not like I was purposely eavesdropping on them before. It just…happened. I don’t exactlyhave control over it. Who knows? Maybe it was just a fluke. One of those one-time-only kind of things.”

Seren ponders this for all of three seconds, lips pursed in contemplation, before she comes to a decision. “Nope, not buying it. You’ve got royal charmer blood in your veins, babe. Randomly developing a gift as rare and revered as telepathy isn’t something that just pops in for a day for a casual visit. There’s more to it, and you know it.”

“Yeah…” I sigh, palm rubbing at my chest. “I was worried you were going to say that.”

We fall into a heavy silence, our attentions returning to the omega who is currently debating the placement of a dove-gray faux mink blanket in her bed. All the rooms down here are equipped with beds that are sunken into the floor with a four-poster canopy over them, both of which aid in giving an omega that enclosed atmosphere they crave. Siggy has woven soft fairy lights into the sheer blue fabric she’s hung between the bed posts. There was a minute there when she was struggling to connect the ends, but I made no move to assist her. Until she invites me into her space, I am firmly planted on this side of the doorway. This room is officially her nest now, and you don’t enter an omega’s nest without an explicit invitation. I can count on two hands how many times I’ve stepped foot in Seren’s room in the house, and she’s basically my sister at this point. Respecting an omega’s nest is something that should always be taken seriously.

Siggy finally decides where she wants the blanket. Her gaunt face peeks over her shoulder, that unsure expression from earlier once again grips her.

I don’t need to be able to hear her thoughts to understand her unspoken question. “Siggy, it looks amazing in here. You should be proud of yourself, love.” My big, genuine grin almost hurts my face as I give her a horribly cheesy thumbs-up. I’d prefer to offerher a hug, but I can’t do that from here. “We can look at rugs online later like we talked about.”

“Okay.” She nibbles on her bottom lip, her uncertainty still clear, but she doesn’t offer more insight into where her head’s at and I don’t pry. Siggy will tell me when she’s ready. “Thanks, Noa.”

I wave her off and smile when she gets busy attacking more blankets.

Knowing she’ll be busy for a while longer, Seren and I slip away down the short hallway into the kitchen. Because she knows me better than anyone alive, Seren immediately gets to work on making a fresh pot of coffee. I’d prefer to head upstairs to the manor’s kitchen where our beloved espresso machine lives, but you know what they say about beggars and choosers. If I’m really honest, I think I’d sip caffeine straight out of a dirty puddle if I were desperate enough. We all have our vices, right?

“She’s chosen you,” Seren declares, leaning against the butcher block countertop. She doesn’t have to elaborate further. We both know what she means. Every Nightingale who comes to us receives support from everyone involved in the sanctuary, but, in the end, an omega almost always chooses one person to be, well…their person. For Edie, that someone was Lowri. The pack Alpha took her under her wing almost immediately. “I’m trying to decide if I should be offended since, you know, I was actually the one here when Siggy arrived. But then again, I guess I’m at a bit of a disadvantage these days seeing as I can’t fucking read minds like you can. Hard to compete with a damn mind reader.”

I roll my eyes and mirror her lighthearted teasing, “That’s rich coming from the girl who can not only sense everyone’s emotions but can also soak up all the negative ones like some kind of empathic Dyson. Don’t stand there and try to paint yourself as some basic bitch. It’s beneath you.”

Seren tries her best to pout, but it’s hard to take her seriously when she looks less like a sulking child and more like someone’s fan art for one of those smutty fairy romance books. Minus the pointy ears, of course. No, my girl’s got badass pointy fangs and claws instead. She’s about two inches taller than the typical omega, but she’s got those curves that are synonymous with the fairer designation. Siggy is adamant I’m built like an omega and while there’s no arguing that I’m short as hell, I wouldn’t classify myself as being overly curvy. Like everything else in my life, I can break myself down into all the ways I almost fit and all the ways I never quite do. And honestly? It’s an exhausting game to play.

“Ha!” Seren barks out a laugh. “Touché, pussycat. I am pretty amazing, something you would know if you’d let me help you.” Her fingers waggle at me, her silent offer hanging between us.

“I don’t need you to take any of my hurt for me to know that you’re awesome,” I tell her. “Siggy may have chosen me now, but I chose you as my person a long time ago, Ser. That’s not going to change.”

Wordlessly, she leaves her post beside the gurgling coffeepot and comes around the narrow kitchen island where I’m seated on a barstool and wraps her arms around me from behind. Her grip borders on too tight and her defined chin digs into my shoulder, but I don’t care. I lean into the soundless show of support.

Our quiet moment shatters as two sets of determined footsteps echo from the hallway leading to the cellar entrance. Seren steps back, giving me just enough space to slide off my seat and stand beside her. I don’t need shifter senses to feel her anxiety as it’s a perfect reflection of my own.

Eldrith, our favorite hooch-brewing crone, appears first. Edie, with Ivey settled on her hip, is only a step behind her. The concern and confusion on their faces only make my inner worryincrease. Seren moves first, her mom instincts no doubt on high alert with the sudden shift in the air. She scoops her daughter up from her favorite babysitter and holds the fair-haired infant tight to her chest.

“What’s going on?” I ask, already running through our emergency evacuation procedures in my head. The thought of uprooting Siggy so soon, just as she’s beginning to trust this place, makes my stomach twist. But if it means keeping her safe, then so be it. A nest can be rebuilt. Her safety comes first.

“Amara sent us to get you,” Eldrith explains, her aged and sun-weathered face tight. The way she dresses, you’d never guess she’s pushing seventy. She always looks like she’s one step away from heading to a rock concert, and today’s no exception. Her eighties hair band graphic tee is just another testament to her unapologetically eccentric style. I can only hope I’m as cool as she is when I’m her age. “Someone—multiplesomeones—passed through her wards.”

“Who?”

“Wolves,” Edie says, hands ringing nervously in front of her. “And it’s not the Craddock Pack.”

Chapter 12

Rennick

It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that Thalassa Alderwood fled to a town ruled by witches.

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