Page 86 of Ember

My Squishmallows were dead. I sobbed again, my entire body shuddering. I felt hot and cold, and I knew I was supposed to be doing something, but every time I got close to having a thought about what next, my gaze landed on some fresh new horror.

I’d brought some of my Squishmallows to Rian and Ben’s house, but not all of them.

Now I kicked myself for leaving any of them behind, because they were torn to shreds. My chest ached, like someone real had died.

The seal Squishmallow Raina gave me for my seventeenth birthday, ripped in half. The ice cream cone that West bought meon a whim when we had a day out to treat ourselves. Countless others, all shredded.

West’s pillows were ruined. The red velvet one that I told him looked like it belonged on a smutty romance cover, and he proceeded to use it to prop me up as he took me from behind. The forest green pillow with the tassels West liked to play with while we watched TV. All ripped up, with the stuffing spread everywhere.

I whimpered.

It wasn’t enough to be in our nest, but they destroyed everything in it. The fairy lights were ripped off the wall, the only lights West could stand. I’d rather the entire house be destroyed and our nest be pristine than this wreckage.

I shook again, feeling hot and cold and hot again. I looked around me, suddenly paranoid, like I was being watched.

Bile rose in my throat, and it felt like I was on the operating table again, bright lights and sterile uniforms, detached voices telling me to relax.

I was an insect for them to study. I had no control over my body. It was broken and hurting and I wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else.

“Ember?” A voice cut through the static in my brain.

I knew that voice. I smelled him next, warm tropical citrus with a fresh hit of palm leaves, like being on a hot sandy beach with turquoise waters in front of me.

“Alpha,” I wailed.

He was next to me a moment later. My thoughts scrambled. Strong arms wrapped around me. I burrowed for more of his scent and took in a deep lungful of the tropical citrus.

He whispered soft words in Spanish, running his hand through my hair until the thoughts coalesced into something coherent.

“My nest,” I whimpered.

“I know, mi vida. I know,” Alejandro murmured. “Come on.”

I let him lead me away, numbness settling over me.

“I’m going to let West and the other two know you’re okay.”

“West can’t see it,” I said, feeling another jolt of panic. “He can’t know.”

“Of course.” Alejandro carried me outside.

West had never had a safe place until he moved in with me. Not his entire life. Between his deadbeat stepdad and his even worst foster parents, he never had a place to call his own.

Until he moved in with me. It would hurt him deeper to see our nest destroyed. He was basically feral when we got together; I didn’t want to know what this would do to him.

Alejandro set me down in the passenger seat of his car and called the police and then West. He told West to meet us at Ben and Rian’s house. He also talked to Rian, who sounded frantic.

I stared at my cottage. At the cute blue trim. At the shutters, and the window boxes of flowers that Luna made sure stayed fresh and alive. We had a little picket fence. Someone had walked through that fence, opened the door, and destroyed our nest.

My stomach rolled, and I moaned, doubling over.

Alejandro pulled me into the back seat so I could sit in his lap.

“The police are on their way.” He made small circles on my back. “I told everyone else to meet us at Ben and Rian’s. You won’t want to wait around for them to get here just to be able to leave.”

I flinched, wishing they were all here right now. I wanted their scents covering me, washing away the wrong scent of my cottage.

The police arrived in a cruiser, not flashing the lights. A man with an epic mustache and mutton chops approached us. He smelled soft, like a beta.

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