Ever since I lost Faith one month ago life had loss so much of its meaning. All my life have been reduced to protecting my sister, saving my sister, and I have failed her.
But at least…
I don’t give voice to the thought. It terrifies me, the sharpness of my longing for Faith feels like a knife to the heart when I think about it.
She was always gentler with the soft yet firm soul of our mother. How could I ever measure up to her? She would know what to say. She would find the right way to say it too, but all I would do is disturb the delicate balance that we have found with each other if I said the truth.
I’m such a fucking hypocrite. I’m such a piece of shit. How long have I berated Raphael, Nakoa, and Leo for lying to me only to turn around and shield the biggest law of all?
But how much longer can I hide from the truth?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
NAKOA
Gracehasn’tbeenfeelingwell since we set out to secure the weapons stash and vehicles needed to storm North Shore. She doesn’t have her usual sassy comebacks to Raphi’s taunts or Leo’s endless intrusive questions. Doesn’t comment on how we should still focus on finding Faith, who’s she’s deluded herself isn’t dead in the wreckage.
As her alpha, I can no longer ignore her strange symptoms. I’m getting enough shit for supporting her in her revenge. Emilio is especially put off, the only other apex on South Shore.
I don’t fear a rebellion. What I fear is losing this fragile peace we’ve build betweenallof us by ignoring what seems so obvious.
Raphael bit her nape, mated Grace. But this scent, this isn’t a new heat thankfully. And maybe the fairytales are real. But my fear is primal as we reach the mountain where we’ll find deliverance.
It started with a slight fever that she brushed off as too many nights trekking to the wet, cold crumbling streets of Providence’s main road. But I wasn’t buying it and neither wereRaphael and Leo who’s intense gazes wavered with fear in time with the flickering campfire as we got situated off the main road and settled in for the night.
We still had about a week to go before we reached this so-called boat that was big enough and strong enough to brave the waves and get us close to the north sector.
But all our plans fell to the wayside at the terrifying thought that Grace was sick and getting worse.
She threw up most of the white fish, looking more feverish than she had during the height of her magnificent heat.
Then she guided my trembling fingertips to her…
Wait? When was our too thin omega so round and soft?
My eyebrows furrowed, remembering that she wouldn’t let us touch her for this last week either. And then I gasped as if I was just slapped in the face because I also realized something more important.
Blood.
Leo and Raphael. have first picked up on the center of an omega in heat. But the first smell that sent me off the day Grace crash landed into our life was blood.
The blood of the dead pilots. The blood of dying alpha fighting to claim. But most importantly, the sickly sweet and then strangely musky scent of period blood. It was something Rapahel had to explain to me, that female omegas went through every month they were unclaimed and not bred.
It was also something that I hadn’t smelled since Grace came.
“You’re—”
“Pregnant,” she cut me off and then she hung her head in shame.
“Calling off the mission isn’t possible, Raphi. And you know that.”
He’s spiraling.
“Prey for me. Hunt with me. Don’t even thing about leaving me before we get our revenge.”
I give in, drown in the combined floral and forest complimentary pehermones in the air, wondering if this will be my mate’s last heat, my last rut, and our pack’s last chance to unite our bodies and hearts as one.
And then I see it, the fear and self loathing.