Dane was before us before any of us could even process it, his body drenched in sweat, his eyes wild with pain.
It wasn’t the static. This was different.
“Zoe,” Dane managed to grit out, his voice a low, guttural snarl. “Something is wrong.”
We were moving before he finished the sentence, a single, four-man wave of pure, panicked instinct. We didn’t need to discuss it. We all felt it.
She was in agony. And we had to get to her. Now.
And then her call came through, confirming our worst fears.
“Take the next left,” Diego says from the backseat, his voice tight with worry. “It’ll be faster.”
Dane obeys without question, the SUV taking the corner with a squeal of tires. None of us comments on the reckless driving. We’re all thinking the same thing: get to Zoe, whatever it takes.
“I knew we shouldn’t have let her go,” Tristan mutters. “I fucking knew it.”
“Not now,” I snap, though I’ve been thinking the same thing since the moment those elevator doors closed behind her. We should have fought harder. We should have found the words to make her stay.
But we didn’t. We let her walk away, thinking all she was tous was a cure for the noise in our heads. And now she’s suffering, and it’s our fault.
“There,” Diego says suddenly, pointing to an old brick building on the right. “That’s it.”
Dane pulls up to the curb with a screech of brakes, and we’re all out of the car before it’s fully stopped. The static in my head is almost deafening now, a roaring, crushing wave that makes it hard to think, hard to focus on anything but the pain.
But as we approach her building, something strange happens. The closer we get, the more the noise begins to recede. Not completely. It’s still there, still painful. But it’s like walking out of a hurricane into merely heavy rain. The relief is immediate and profound.
“She’s close,” Diego says, confirming what we all feel. “The bond is responding.”
We take the stairs two at a time, the static receding further with each step. By the time we reach her floor, the pain has dulled to a manageable throb, the worst of the noise replaced by an urgent, driving need to find her, to make sure she’s safe.
We reach her door with that peeling Rosie the Riveter sticker. I don’t bother knocking; I just slam my palm against the wood.
“Zoe!” I yell, my voice a raw bark. “Zoe, it’s us! Open the door!”
No answer. Only a dead, terrifying silence from inside.
“Stand back,” Dane growls, already positioning himself to shoulder the door.
He’s just about to strike when a door across the hall creaks open. We all freeze, turning in unison.
Standing in the doorway is Zoe’s neighbor, Mrs. Grant. She’s wearing a floral nightgown, a pink sleeping cap, and a deeply unimpressed expression. Her tiny Pomeranian, Thanos, is yapping furiously at her feet.
“For heaven’s sake,” she says, her voice a sharp whisper. “It is three o’clock in the morning. Some of us have to get up for our water aerobics class. Are you trying to wake the dead?”
“Ma’am,” I say, trying to keep my voice level despite the panic clawing at my throat. “We need to get into this apartment. It’s an emergency.”
She looks from my face to the other three alphas crowded in the narrow hallway, then back to Zoe’s silent door. Her expression shifts from annoyance to a dawning, gossipy concern. “Is she alright? I haven’t heard a peep from her all day.”
“We don’t know,” Diego says, his voice tight with worry. “That’s why we need to get in.”
Dane takes another step toward the door.
“Oh, don’t do that,” Mrs. Grant says, waving a dismissive hand. “You’ll splinter the frame. It’s a rental.” She shuffles back into her apartment for a moment and returns holding a single key on a bright pink, fluffy keychain. “She gave me this a year ago to water her plants when she went on vacation. I just... never got around to returning it.”
She shuffles across the hall and inserts the key into Zoe’s lock. “It’s a good thing I’m a packrat, isn’t it?” she says, giving us a sly, knowing look as she turns the key. The deadbolt clicks open. “Now, try not to make a mess. And I expect a full report in the morning.”
She hands the key to me and then shuffles back to her own apartment, closing the door with a soft click, leaving the four of us standing in stunned silence.
