Page 158 of Pack Frenzy
Jess closes her eyes. “Then he killed her.”
The timer dings, sharp and wrong in the quiet. The smell of sugar fills the room, too sweet against the taste of horror.
I pull Jess against my chest, and Cassian’s hand finds her shoulder while Eli goes perfectly still, his fingers frozen above the keyboard.
We may have found Sabrina. But years too late to save her.
CHAPTER 38
ELI
My shoulder stillrememberswhere Jess bit me.
Almost three days, and the mark’s shifted from red to deep violet, yellow edging in like a bruise learning to fade. It twinges when I move—more memory than pain. Warm. Alive.
I keep catching myself touching it through my shirt, tracing the curve of her teeth.
I shouldn’t like it this much, but I do.
Most people come back from time off looking tan and relaxed. I come back marked, half-feral, pretending the hum of Nexus feels normal again, even though it doesn’t. Not after discovering what this place possibly did to Jess’s sister and letting Blake skate by if what my gut says is true.
And the fact that Jess could’ve been picked by Blake if I hadn’t rushed her file through to come with us for the ninety-day trial. My pulse goes cold, then hot.
For a second, I can taste blood in the back of my throat. If he’d gotten her… I don’t know what I would’ve done, but it wouldn’t have been legal.
The thought leaves a tremor under my skin. I shove it down, layer by layer, until I’m just… numb again. Nexus likes its people calm and efficient. So fine. I can be that. At least on the surface.
The building’s got that same sterile chill—bleach, recycled air, copper undercurrent that tastes like old wires. Fluorescents buzz overhead, a half-step off pitch, and makes my jaw tense. Even my badge smells wrong. Jess’s scent clung to my hoodie so long it rewired what “home” smells like.
I swipe in. The scanner flashes green, the door clicks open, and I step back into the hive. Rows of cubicles hum with quiet desperation and burnt coffee. I drop into mine, wake the monitor, and let the blue light hit my face.
I should be catching up on reports. The heat leave doesn’t count against my PTO since it’s a biological necessity. But I burned through all my actual vacay time at the bay.
But I’m not here for reports, I’m here for Sabrina.
Easier to dig from inside Nexus than from home—the firewalls are thicker, the data quieter. Nobody watches the guy who never breaks the rules.
My shoulder tightens when I lean forward, fabric grazing the bite. The pressure steadies me, a pulse of warmth under my palm.
For a second, I see her again—eyes dark, breath shaky, skin flushed. The world narrowing to scent and pulse and the sharp, sweet pain of being wanted back. Not just tolerated. Not just useful.Wanted.The way she looked at me like I was exactly what she needed, Beta or not.
I drag in a breath, shake it off, and start typing.
Sabrina Mancini. Enter.
Let’s see what’s left of her.
The search window blinks, cursor steady like it’s waiting for me to screw up. Then an error message appears:No Omega found.
My stomach drops. I type Sabrina’s name again, slower this time, like maybe I got it wrong. Sabrina Mancini.
Restricted.
That’s worse. “No Omega found” could mean a clerical error. “Restricted” means someone doesn’t want her found.
So I check around to make sure my other Nexus’s coworkers are busy, and I use my backdoor to get into the servers.
Just a single entry, date-stamped over seven years ago.
