She relays the information to me and everything freezesaround me. My ears begin to ring, the loud chatter around us starting to blur as that sentence seems to stick in my mind.
Since your pack didn’t want her.
“Wedowant her,” I interrupt and she flinches at my tone. “She is the best thing to ever happen to this pack.”
She gives a humorless laugh. “Could’ve fooled me. I seem to remember picking her up earlier outside of that dirty rink,crying.” My heart pinches. “She needs to find a pack before her heat comes. Did she tell you about her disorder?”
My head shakes violently, refusing to believe her in any way. Opal wouldn’t move on within hours, especially not when she’s still reeling from what she thinks is detrimental heartbreak. “I don’t believe you.”
“Fine, but I dropped her off at the restaurant about an hour ago. Some fancy French place downtown.” She shrugs. “I’d be surprised if she wasn’t already writing up a contract.”
Her blatant disregard for my feelings on the matter throws me off. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Again, she gives me a bored expression. “Just don’t pretend like I didn’t warn you.”
She walks off and my blood runs cold. Opal told me about her dates, how she asked out any alpha she could to see if they were compatible for her heat cycles. She may not move on when it comes to her feelings, but I know her hormones have been dysregulated for the past few weeks. Maybe her heat is coming soon, and she feels like she doesn’t have any options. Maybe she really does think there is no mending what is broken between us.
I march through the house, looking for my pack mates as my mind spirals through the possibilities. When I see them, they are both looking around the room outside of the kitchen, trying to find any sign of our omegathat they can.
I run up to them frantically, my heart continuing to beat wildly in my chest. “Opal is on a date!”
Sam growls. “What?!”
Thatcher gets up, too, suddenly activated. “What do you mean she’s on a date? With who?”
“Some stranger! An alpha,” I spit out like it’s poison on my tongue.
Sam steps over to comfort me. “Kit, breathe. It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not. She’s ours and she thinks we don’t want her. Why did I let her walk out of that damn arena?”
Sam doesn’t look distressed, but Thatcher’s eyes bug out of his head. “Kit?—”
“No, Thatcher. I should have told her more often that this was going to work out. I should have forced you two to come to your senses sooner, but now she’s out there on a date with some dude because she thinks she’s a ticking time bomb and it’s all my fault?—”
“Kit,” Sam’s bark abruptly stops my rant. He moves in front of me, his hands going to my shoulders to help me settle this mini-breakdown that I’m having in the middle of a crowded college party. “This is not your fault. We should have made things clearer to her, told her how we felt.”
“Who told you she was on a date?” Thatcher cuts in, his brow snagged like something doesn’t feel right.
“Her friend, Cindy,” I say, but the moment I say it, something feels wrong in my gut. “I… wow, I think her words really got to me.”
“What did she say?” Sam asks, his demeanor a scary calm that I’ve only ever seen on him.
I take in a few deep breaths. “She said that we didn’t want her, so she had to find someone else, before… you know.”
His jaw clenches with tension. “She knows about Opal’s condition?”
“Condition?” Thatcher asks, but I can only focus on one thing at a time, so I just nod in response.
“Opal has been pulling away from Cindy for a while now,” I tell them. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but we need to find her.”
“Did she say where the date was?”
I nod frantically. “She did! A French restaurant downtown.”
“Étoile,” Thatcher says, and we both turn to blink at him. “What? I like French food.”
“Why the hell didn’t I know that?” I ask.
