“Something is wrong with June,” Archer says as Torin steps into the room and closes the door behind him.
We’re in the two-bedroom apartment four doors away from Juniper’s. Our new home away from home. We can never stray too far or for too long from our cage, but one of us always stays here. Close enough to help Juniper if our families decide to use her to hurt us.
Except today.
Today, we’re all here because Archer called Torin and told him to forget about watching Veronica at the house. Something was wrong with Juniper, and we needed to talk.Now.
I nudge the stack of paperwork away and get up from the desk I set up in the corner of the living room. Rolling my neck, I wince when it cracks, and I rub the soreness away from sitting hunched over for far too long.
Buying an apartment building was easier than I thought. Keeping track of the problems with it so we can give Juniper the safe, clean, and warm building she deserves is not so easy. It’s downright stressful, even with a general manager doing the physical checks, so Juniper doesn’t bump into the new owner of this building: me.
“She didn’t go to work yesterday,” Torin says with a yawn. He’s usually here at night, watching over Juniper so Wilkes Booth doesn’t make an appearance one night. “I knocked on her door, but she didn’t answer.”
“She’s sick,” Archer says.
“She works a lot. Maybe she’s just tired,” I say. “We’re all tired.”
I never had to work growing up. I had a trust fund set up before I was born, and I inherited even more money from my mom when she passed. There were rules and expectations I rebelled against once I learned what they were. Not because of who my father is, but who my mother was. If I hadn’t had someone like her in my life, I’d have turned out just like the other spoiled heirs who embraced buying and selling omegas like their fathers and grandfathers before them.
“You weren’t paying attention, were you?” Archer asks, frowning at me.
“To?” I prompt, distracted.
“To what they told us after Juniper left us,” Archer says. “The potential for bond sickness.”
My chest tightens, and a wave of panic makes it hard to breathe.
“She doesn’t have bond sickness,” I deny automatically.
“Her heat is coming, and that means her body is going to start missing her mates. Her bed’s unmade, so she’s been sleeping, but it doesn’t look like it. Something is wrong,” Archer says.
“I’m not tired.” Torin says.
“Neither am I, at least not the bone-deep fatigue they warned us about. But we only went through the bond breaking once. Juniper went through it three times,” Archer says.
“Three breaks for three mates,” I mutter.
I hadn’t paid close attention to the warning a woman gave us after the bond-breaking. I was too busy grieving.
What had the woman said?
Bond sickness can be fatal if it’s not treated, and the only known treatment is for mates to reunite.
We’ve mostly been keeping our distance from Juniper. What we did to her—how we treated her—was and is unforgivable. We all know that. She needs time and space to decide when orifshe can forgive.
Juniper nearly died during the bond breaking. Stopped breathing. Unconscious for days.
If this is bond sickness, itwillkill her.
I frown at Archer. “Would she?—”
“No,” Archer cuts in, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall beside the door. “Walking her to work is one thing. Forgiveness is something else. She’s not there yet.” He stares into space, expression bleak. “I always know when she’s remembering something we did.”
We failed Juniper before. We failed her in every way we could, and she could still die because of what we did.
I start pacing as I think.
I barely remember the days after the bond breaking.
