Page 133 of Cost of Courting

They said they wouldn’t.

But where are they?

I pull my phone out and call the number before I can stop and think about it.

Before it even rings, I catch sight of someone walking across the front lawn.

“What the actual fuck?” I toss the phone down and stalk to my front door and yank it open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” My voice sounds cold like my dads.

Octavia looks up at me with old eyes like she’s seen war. She’s half her size like she’s not eating. There are bruises under her makeup and scars on the inside of her wrists. I don’t know how I feel knowing she tried to kill herself.

“Hello, Selene. Can we talk?” Her voice is weak and nothing like I remember.

I don’t even know what to say, so I stumble back, leaving the door open. She follows me into the house and stops on the other side of the kitchen table.

“You can’t have them!”

She smiles slightly and shakes her head. “I don’t want them. I don’t want any of them.”

I pause, hearing the absolute sincerity in her voice. “What are you here for, then?”

“I’m here to tell you, not to apologise.”

I glare at her. “Why now?”

“To be frank, it’s the first time I’ve been able to. I’m sorry for taking your alphas, for tricking them and hurting you.”

Who is this alien omega in front of me, and why can’t I catch her scent?

She glances around the house and looks back down at her hands. “I sold them out, but I didn’t know what he’d do. Honestly. He’s a monster.”

“I am aware.”

“I brought you something,” Octavia says as if I haven’t even spoken. It’s like she’s a ghost. Dead already.

My kettle clicks off, the water boiled, but neither of us move.

The hairs on my arms lift.

“I promise it will help you.”

I raise a brow. It’s only then that I notice the beaten and bloody person standing in my doorway.

“LUNA!” I race across the kitchen, ignoring my unwelcome guest, and catch my sister before she falls. I lower us both to the ground. She grips my shirt with a deadly grip and stares up at me.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Luna gasps out.

She says it over and over and over. Tears streaming down her cheeks. I check her injuries. Some of them need medical attention, and she’s got a bruise in the shape of the tread of a boot on her back and what looks like a brand on her upper chest.

“Who did this? What happened?”

It takes a long time for her to calm down long enough to be able to answer me. By that time, I’ve washed the worst of her wounds, got her onto our ratty couch, gotten some water into her, and left several calls with Dot.

“Where is she?” I grumble and send her a text message telling her to call me urgently.

I look at Luna and find that she’s passed out.

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