Page 60 of Into the Fire: Before

“Breathe easy, omega,” I whispered so softly I could barely hear it. “You’re safe.”

Brea

Nightfelloverusin the bed, Taryn wrapped firmly in my arms, her face resting on my arm and nestled against my neck. Caine on her other side, still awake like me.

Taryn had been exhausted on the couch, but hadn’t wanted to let go of either of us. I’d eventually convinced her to stand so we could go to bed, but as Brooks had led us to the guest room, she’d refused to even enter. Instead, one hand wrapped tightly around each mine and Caine’s wrists, she’d pulled us to the room at the end of the hall. The room covered in Brooks and Lin’s scents. Without so much as a glance at either of them, Taryn had pulled me and Caine inside and promptly curled into the center of the bed.

The four of us had exchanged awkward glances before Lin assured us we were all more than welcome to commandeer their room, then pulled his beta into what was supposed to have been our temporary room.

Which had left just me and Caine, standing in the doorway. Maybe Taryn had sensed the hesitance, because she’d looked at both of us then, uttering her first word in hours.

“Please.”

There’d been no denying her, not from either of us. So I’d settled in front of her, pulled her face against my chest and stroked her hair as Caine had slowly, stiffly arranged himself behind her. On his back, inches away from her.

“Caine,” I’d whispered. “She needs the touch.”

In any other circumstance, I’d have laughed at the stricken, determined furrow of his brow. In what universe did an alpha need coaxing to settle in close with a willing omega? But as he’d slid closer, turning on his side to slot nicely around her curled-up form, laughter was far from my mind. The moment he haltingly laid his arm overtop Taryn, resting his palm on my elbow, Taryn had melted with a little sigh, dropping almost immediately into sleep.

Neither Caine nor I had yet, though. I didn’t know how long we lay there in silence, glancing between my omega and each other.

“I couldn’t feel her,” I whispered, barely loudly enough to be speech at all.

Caine looked to me, eyebrows drawing down in question.

I swallowed. “Usually as I’m coming home, the closer I get, the more I feel her in the bond. But even as we pulled into the parking lot, and climbed the stairs, and opened the door…I couldn’t feel her. I still can’t.” I couldn’t have prevented the tear trailing down my cheek if I’d tried. Which I didn’t. I was too exhausted, too wrung out to. “It’s scaring the shit out of me.”

His hand, still resting on my arm just above my elbow, gave a small squeeze. A tiny gesture of comfort.

“Thank you,” I said again.

Not for saving her. Not for thwarting a would-be murderer or worse. But for being the safe space she needed after. I knew just how thick his protective wall was, and he’d let her through it when it really mattered.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and I knew he heard the words I couldn’t actually say.

Brooks

Theguestroomwasclean but stale. Lin lay curled behind me, both of us breathing softly. His scent was muted, damp smelling almost, a sure sign of his mental state. Luckily beta scents were generally less potent, because otherwise myeucalyptus and woody smoke would have had us both choking by now.

“It’s okay to feel upset right now,” Lin murmured behind me.

I turned to face him in bed. The oblique glare of an outside streetlight made his dark hair and eyes glow. “Oh really?” I said with more bitterness than he deserved. “It’s okay to feel upset that someone broke into our building and attacked one of our tenants? An omega we…we…”

His hand smoothed over my neck as he sighed. “It’s okay to be upset,” he said with a patient tone, “that we’re in here and they’re in there.”

Blood rushed to my face. Maybe some small part of me was the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous that in her moment of need, she’d hadn’t wanted me. I tried to tell myself her omega was steering, and that her omega deserved whatever she needed to cope right now.

Still, it stung.

But that wasn’t what made my mouth taste like ash.

Lin didn’t speak again. His hand remained a warm, comforting weight at my neck, his thumb caressing my throat with tenderness I didn’t deserve.

“I…” I swallowed under his grip. “I had a really bad thought earlier.”

“You can tell me,” Lin whispered.

I nodded. I knew I could tell him. And I knew he’d tell me it was okay and I’d done nothing wrong. But the molten lump in my stomach wouldn’t be so easily assuaged.

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