Page 63 of Primal

Rejected mate syndrome, aka the gift that just keeps on giving, am I right?

And then came the next test. The one I swallowed down for Siggy. Because Ipromisedher I’d be here, no matter what. So, I gripped the wheel, stared ahead, and drove us through the iron gates I now associate with the beginning of my descent. It was déjà vu. But instead of my mother’s urn riding shotgun, I had Siggy. Instead of bringing my mom home to her mate, I was here to return a daughter to her mother.

It was beautiful, in theory.

In reality? I wanted to turn around and run. Every second spent on those familiar roads that led back tohishouse made my skin feel too tight. I felt sick. Because being here—nearhim—my already bruised and broken body is bracing for more pain. Every glance, every shift of his posture, every time he so much as parts his lips to speak, my nerves go tight like pulled wire. I keep waiting for him to finish what he started in that clearing.

It never comes, of course.

But that doesn’t make it easier.

Anticipating pain that never lands is its own kind of torment. Exhausting in a way that gnaws through my bones and threatens what little strength I have left.

But watching Yrsa Eklund gather her daughter into her arms like one hug has enough power to repair the damage of the past seven months? Hearing the broken, guttural sob that ripped from the alpha female’s chest when her eyes locked on Siggy? That made it worth it. All of it. Every bit of unease clawing at my lungs. Every twinge of pain that sparked in my chest when I felt his presence. It made being here, in the same room ashim, worth it.

Because I’ve dedicated my life to saving omegas, but more often than not, I’m helping them run from broken homes, from manipulative parents, from their so-called protectors who use their designation against them. I’ve never, not once, had the absolute honor of watching one of my omegas reunite with someone that loved them. The way Yrsa’s arms trembled, the way she cradled Siggy like she might vanish again if she blinked…it brushed against my broken, sharp pieces and smoothed a couple of the edges out. It didn’t heal me, by any means, but for a couple minutes there, it wasn’t such a chore to breathe.

Back in the den I’d woken up in after passing out after our first “incident”, I stayed close. Within arm’s reach. Hand-holding distance, because that’s where Siggy told me she needed me to be while she told her story. She stammered and broke a few times, but who can blame her, but we—Yrsa, Rennick, and I—sat there and gave her the time and grace she needed to get the words out.

And when she got to the part where the omega at the club told Carly and Siggy to find me, to get to Ashvale because they’d be safe there, before sacrificing herself for them, I saw it happen.Rennick’s gunmetal gaze shot to mine, heavy and searching, and Yrsa’s brows pulled tight with suspicion. No doubt the seven omegas—including Siggy and Carly—that’ve gone missing from their land making them wary of anyone tied to omegas. Their silent look said,What the hell does she have to do with this?

It was Yrsa who asked. Bold, blunt. “What does she mean, get toyou? Why would someone tell her that?”

I kept my face neutral as best I could, trying not to whine beneath her intense suspicion. “I help omegas in need,” I told her simply. “It’s my job. My purpose.”

“But I thought you owned an apothecary?” she countered, confusion laced with an edge, her protective motherly instincts in overdrive.

I didn’t bother asking how she knew about Potion & Petal. That answer was obvious since I have no doubt I’ve been the topic of discussion around here lately. That just comes with the territory of being the idiot girl who accidentally claimed their Alpha as mine. So, I shrugged, casual even though my insides were twisting.

“I do. That’s just the thing that pays the bills.”

I also help people there in various ways, but we don’t have to get into my other vigilante side quest. I had this sneaking suspicion that if I were to pop off and say something along the lines of,“Yeah, I basically run an Underground Railroad for abused omegas and offer them a safe place to rehabilitate. Oh, and sometimes, for some of them, when starting over isn’t an option, I provide them withremediesthat take care of the problem instead. I also sell really nice tea blends and candles, though, if you ever need stocking stuffer ideas.”

So, I didn’t elaborate further. Sure as hell didn’t mention the witches, or the hidden sanctuary beneath our feet, or the magic-woven protections we’ve built around our girls. That’s not astory for just anyone. Not even for the woman who just got her daughter back.

It had been Siggy’s pleading to stop haranguing me that finally chilled Yrsa out.

The alpha female transferred her intensity back to listening closely to her daughter speak.

While Siggy spilled her heart out, reopening the barely-scabbed wound so her mother and Alpha could finally know what had happened to her during her disappearance, I felt his eyes. Even as his pack’s omega trembled her way through the story of her survival, Rennick’s gaze kept flicking back to me. Intense. Unreadable. Like he was trying to memorize something he’d already broken. Every pass of those gunmetal irises had my skin burning, my pulse stuttering with a concoction of emotion I didn’t have the strength to untangle.

And my wolf? She refused to entertain it. Too tired, too upset herself. She turned her back, her resentment sharp and simmering, not even dignifying his attention with acknowledgment. Not after what he did. Not after the choice he made, the one that shattered us both and left her to deteriorate within her cage. The cage that now floated within the dark abyss where our bond lived.

Rennick’s attention hit a new, almost obsessive level once bits of my involvement with omegas came out. I know it’s something he’s had to be wondering about since he learned from Canaan that one of his missing omegas had ended up at my front door of all places. The irony alone was probably enough to make his emotionally constipated alpha brain glitch out completely.

He was still looking at me, as if waiting for me to willingly spill my own life secrets along with Siggy, when Carly’s mother had appeared in the den’s doorway. She looked like a wraith, pale and drawn into herself, but when her glassy eyes landed on Siggy, there was relief. Not joy. Not happiness. But the kindof desperate, grateful relief that still makes my throat burn just thinking about it.

Siggy had stiffened beside me, her hand reaching for mine and clenching it so tight I thought we might both bruise. But she didn’t run. She didn’t shrink. She held that grieving mother’s gaze like it was an act of self-induced penance. It was Carly’s mom, whose name I never got, who broke first. My Nightingale had crumbled before us, but it was the two mothers who stepped up to console her together.

The moment shared between the three of them was painfully sad and intimate, and as if we’d rehearsed it, Rennick and I both stood to give the three a moment alone. Yrsa had met my eye over her daughter’s shoulder, nodding once, signaling she’ll come find me if Siggy needed me.

“I won’t be far,” I promised, before stepping into the hallway and on autopilot, followed the familiar path to the sliding doors that lead to the back deck.

Returning to the scene of the crime…because I’m a glutton for punishment, apparently.

Now, leaning against the familiar railing, I close my eyes and tip my head up toward the swirling clouds still threatening to blanket the world in snow. My insides, which seem to be in a state of perpetual iciness these days, already ache from the cold. But I don’t move. Don’t flinch. Not even when the slider opens and closes softly a second later.

I don’t need to look. I know who it is.

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