I feel the others' attention shift to Kai.
Our pack leader stands at the front of our group, positioned as always between us and potential danger. His posture is rigid, controlled, but I can see the amusement flickering in his dark gold eyes—appreciation for the performance, for the chaos, for the sheeraudacityof this tiny Omega who's managed to capture, cage, and display the men who wronged her like trophies.
He's about to respond.
I can see the words forming, can feel the calculation happening behind his carefully neutral expression.
Then his eyes widen.
Concern.
Pure, undisguised concern—an emotion I've seen from Kai maybe twice in the years I've known him.
I follow his gaze back to the stage.
And my heart stops.
Blood.
Dark red droplets falling from Seraphine's nose, splashing onto the costume that's already stained with violence. She blinks, raises one hand to touch her face, and looks at the crimson coating her fingers with an expression of mild annoyance.
"Damn," she says, and her voice is steady but wrong somehow—too light, too casual. "I guess my time is up."
She giggles.
The sound is off—weak, fractured, nothing like the manic brightness I've come to associate with her particular brand of chaos.
More blood drips from her nostrils.
Too much blood.
More than a simple nosebleed.
More than?—
The letter.
The words crash through my skull like a physical blow.
"This will probably be the last letter from me."
"Maybe I'm tired of the disappointment all around."
"Thank you for keeping me going, despite my insanity."
She wasn't just saying goodbye because she was giving up.
She was saying goodbye because sheknew.
Deep in my gut, I knew she might not survive long enough to send another letter.
Yet I didn’t think I’d be worthy enough to meet the owner of these wondrous letters…
I'm moving before any of them can react.
Sprinting down the aisle toward the stage like my life depends on it—and maybe it does, because the bond is screaming at me now, flooding my system with fear and pain and the desperate, agonizing awareness that something is very, very wrong.
Our eyes lock.
