But for the first time, the silence feels deliberate.
Weighted with secrets.
"I'm going to shower," Plague announces, already heading for the stairs. "I'm not spending another minute covered in post-practice filth. And don't snoop. The last thing I want to find is whatever's between your ears splattered all over the wall because you set Wraith off."
"Yeah, sure," I mutter, but my mind is already spinning.
While Plague disappears upstairs, I move through the first floor, checking rooms, listening for any unusual sounds. Nothing in the kitchen, living room, gym, or media room. I wasn't really expecting to find anything. If Wraith brought the omega here, he'd keep her close. Protected. And he doesn't spend time in the common areas.
Which means she's upstairs. In his private loft.
I wait until I hear Plague's shower running before making my move. Taking the stairs two at a time, I reach the top floor where our personal suites are located. Mine and Plague's are on one end of the hall, Thane's in the middle, and Wraith's isolated at the far end.
Wraith's door is closed, as always. A plain black door with no decorations, no nameplates, nothing to suggest someone lives there. That's because he doesn't. We use the room for storage. But I push the door open anyway, checking inside with a quick wary glance. Plague's grotesque warning echoes in my head.
Nope. Nothing's here but bins and boxes.
I close the door, wincing when it shuts louder than I intended it to. For a few moments, I stand perfectly still, listening. Trying not to fucking breathe. I half expect Wraith to appear at the end of the hall like the killer in a slasher movie. But it sounds like he isn't home.
Letting out a relieved breath, I head down the hall toward the entrance to his actual room. There's a discrete trapdoor in the ceiling at the far end of the hall, with a ladder that can be pulled down. It leads directly into Wraith's loft.
Found it by accident one night when I was new to the team, exploring the digs after one too many drinks. Thane had to split up the brawl that ensued when Wraith heard me picking the lock.
And I'm gonna do it again, too.
I approach it quietly, eyeing the almost invisible seam in the ceiling. If the omega is anywhere, she's up there. If I can just get a peek, confirm she's real and not some shared hallucination...
The sound of water rushing through the pipes in the wall makes me hesitate. Wraith doesn't take showers in the middle of the afternoon. Someone else is in his loft.
Yep. That's all the evidence I need.
Before I can even process what I'm doing, my hand's reaching into my pocket for my keys to pick the lock on the trapdoor.
"Don't."
Plague's voice cuts through the silence, stopping me cold. I turn to find him standing in the hallway, dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist. His long black hair is slicked back, water droplets tracing paths down his bare chest.
Fuck, that was fast. He's never that quick.
"Don't what?" I ask, aiming for innocence.
"You know exactly what." His pale blue eyes are hard as ice, his lip slightly curled. "You're planning to invade Wraith's space.One of the few boundaries Wraith has explicitly set. You need to mind your own business."
"I'm planning to find out if our pack's about to gain a member," I correct him, hearing the defensive edge in my voice. "It's just as much our business as it is his. This ain't a beta, bro."
"Unless he's protecting her," Plague says in a flat tone. "We don't know why he's taking care of an omega, but we do know he avoids them. It's much more likely he's trying to help somebody than anything else."
"We'redreamingabout her. You really think this is a random omega he picked up off the streets?" I say through my teeth. I take a step toward him, frustration bubbling over. "Something's wrong, Plague. You know it.Iknow it. We found evidence of an omega in the arena—an omega that matches our shared dreams. Wraith showed up shirtless, for fuck's sake.Shirtless. When have you ever seen him without fifty shades of gray clothing?"
"That doesn't give you the right to?—"
"And now he's hiding out up there," I continue, jabbing a finger toward the ceiling. "Withsomeone. Someone he's keeping from us. From hispack. And he just went to a fucking omega clinic in broad daylight, Plague.Broad daylight. You know how much he hates going out."
Plague doesn't back down. Instead, he steps closer, water still dripping from his hair onto his shoulders. "And if he is hiding her, there's a reason."
"What possible reason could justify keeping this from us?"
"You saw the fire extinguisher. You saw the blood. She knocked a notoriously fearsome alpha unconscious," Plague replies evenly,dropping his voice lower. "An omega who's been resorting to hiding in maintenance tunnels like a wild animal is likely partially feral. It could take weeks to build trust."
