I just pray my body will hold up and allow me to go. I’ve reached the point where my skin itself is starting to ache in the same fashion as my joints and muscles. A single touch other than Rennick’s has me cringing inwardly.
A few stools down, a young omega with a messy, bright orange pixie cut looks up from her crocheting. Socks, I believe.
“Can I come too?” She blurts, then flushes pink when both Siggy and I look her way. “If…if that’s okay? I’ve always wanted to learn about this kind of thing but…” she lowers her voice to a whisper. “Zora kinda scares me.”
Rhosyn’s bark of laughter cuts through the air. “Fiona, the scariest thing about Zora is her wardrobe and interior decorating skills.”
I’ve been deliberate about not looking too closely at the cabin, never giving my surroundings more than a cursory glance when I move through the space. Eyes down, I made a conscious effort to focus on my task only because I knew if I let them wander, I’d be hurting my own heart by discovering the walls that raised me now wear someone else’s aesthetic. But at Rhosyn’s sarcastic quip, my restraint slips. My gaze lands on a painting so chaotic it looks like the aftermath of a bad trip. And I almost laugh. Almost.
Rhosyn keeps going. “Zora would probably jump at the chance to mentor you, but full disclosure, learning from her is going to be a full-contact sport.She teaches like she decorates: colorful and a little unhinged. And there’s a fifty-fifty chance you’ll end up talking to toads from accidental magic mushroom ingestion halfway through your first lesson. I mean, if that’s your speed, then all the power to you and enjoy the ride, but if you want to avoid communing with forest animals, Noa is probably your better choice for a teacher. Plus, she runs her own apothecary, so she comes with solid credentials.” She winks and goes back to tying a green velvet bow around a bright pink vibrator.
I shake my head, fighting a smile, before flicking my attention back to the orange-haired omega. “I’d be happy to teach you, Fiona,” I say, adding a few drops of wintergreen essential oil to my glass mixing bowl. “And of course you’re welcome to join us anytime.”
My attention slides to Siggy, silently urging her to show her acceptance of Fiona joining us, knowing that my Nightingale is still struggling with being around people in general. Even if these people are her pack members.
She clears her throat before lifting her head and nodding. “Yeah, sure. It’ll be fun. We can make it like a girls’ day or something.”
Bless her heart, she’s trying and I’m proud of her for it.
Fiona’s round face brightens like someone flipped on her internal light switch. “Do you think I can ask a few others to come too? I know they’d love the chance to learn from you.”
“Of course,” I say easily, though her words hit somewhere deep. Acceptance from these pack members is something I never expected to experience again—let alone want—and it stirs up something fragile. “Anyone’s welcome.”
Fiona makes a delighted sound and darts off toward her friends by the hearth. I can’t help watching her go, a small smile tugging at my mouth. But Rhosyn’s staring at me with a knowing expression when I turn back that immediately sets me on edge.
“What?”
She lifts her shoulders in a light, easy shrug that doesn’t fool me for a second. “Nothing.” She twiddles a piece of ribbon between her fingers. “It’s just good, that’s all. Seeing you here. Watching you slip back into place with everyone. They needed this—the chance to reconnect with you. To know you as more than a name they toss around over their morning coffee while they gossip about the Alpha’sdisastrous love life.”
Suspicion prickles up my spine. I turn to Siggy, and the conspiratorial glint in her eye confirms it. They’re up to something.
“Well, it’s not like Noa’s hard to like,” my Nightingale offers with a smirk.
“Right? It’s actually a little terrifying how easy it is to like her.” Rhosyn waves her fingers my way as if sprinkling invisible glitter.“She’s got to be using some witchy shit on us. Hexed us when we weren’t looking because no one’s this effortlessly lovable without magic.”
I blink at her, deadpan. “Well, damn, you’ve found me out. I’m actually harvesting souls for the coven. Friendship’s just step one into luring you into my trap.”
“I knew it!” Siggy crows, leaning forward, eyes alight with that bright, unguarded humor that still feels new and a little breakable. She’s still healing, still stitching herself together one laugh at a time, maybe not into who she was, but into whoever she’s meant to be now. “You even got my mom to like you, and she doesn’t really like anyone.”
Rhosyn snorts, flicking the ribbon toward Siggy.“She’s got a point. I really do adore Yrsa, but no offense, Sig, your mama always looks like she’s been sucking on lemons.”
The corner of my lips tug. It’s moments like these when a hint of that southern drawl slips through her words that I remember my favorite beta female hails from a pack deep in the swamps of Mississippi. And damn if it isn’t endearing as hell.
I open my mouth to defend Yrsa, because someone should—even if her brand of affection usually comes wrapped in barbed wire—but I never get the chance.
Fiona bounces back toward where we sit, a wide grin splitting her freckled face. “Okay!” she starts, her excitement bleeding into the single word. “There’s three more of us who want to come! We were thinking we could go early next week? If that works for you, Noa? I wish we could go this weekend, but with the Alpha’s betrothal party happening, I don’t think we’ll have enough time to slip away.”
The information slides between my ribs like a blade made of ice.
Everything inside me freezes. The laughter and busy chatter around the cabin dulls into something muffled and far away. My hands still, the wooden spoon slipping from my fingers and clanging against the glass side of my mixing bowl.
It’s like frost spreading beneath my skin. Cold, hard, ruthless. I stare at Fiona but can’t quiteseeher. My breath catches, trapping itself somewhere between my chest and throat. I can feel Siggy’s gaze on me from across the wooden tabletop. Rhosyn’s, too. But I can’t bring myself to look at either of them. Can’t bring myself to so much as move.
Fiona’s bright expression falters, confusion creasing her brow before realization drains the color from her face.
“Oh, Goddess,” she whispers, hands wringing together in front of her chest. “I’m so sorry, that was so inconsiderate of me to bring up. I know—well,everyoneknows—how rough your history is with our Alpha.” Her eyes, wide with worry and regret, dart around my face, cataloging whatever horrified expression must reside there now. “I can’t image how hard this must be for you. I don’t think I could attend a celebration for my ex-mate’s engagement to someone else, either…”
The wordengagementlands heavier than the rest.
