But I can’t think about that right now.
At this moment, all that matters is getting Tansy somewhere she feels safe.
We reach the nesting room, and Warren barely gets the door open before Tansy is wriggling out of his arms. Shedoesn’t wait for help. She scrambles inside, hands shaking as she burrows straight into the mess of blankets and pillows like a wounded animal. She pulls the scent-soaked fabric over her head, trying to disappear.
It guts me to see her like this.
My grip tightens on the head of my cane, the carved wood digging into my palm, as I watch her disappear into the nest. She’s a small, trembling lump surrounded by our things, and the rage in my chest cools into something heavier, more painful.
She's hiding.
From us.
"Easy, Gray," Warren murmurs, his voice a low, steady counterpoint to the frantic energy rolling off Grason. “Don’t get too close. Give her a minute.”
"A minute?" Grason's voice is a strained whisper, his hands raking through his hair. "Warren, she's breaking. I can smell it. It's...wrong." He's right. Her scent is filled with fear, and something deeper, almost broken.
I ignore them both, my focus locked on the trembling mound in the center of the nest.
I take a slow step forward, the weight on my bad knee a grounding ache. I can't rush to her. I can't scoop her up and crush her to my chest like I want to. I'm a fucking alpha with a bum leg, and my omega is dying in front of me.
"Tansy," I say, keeping my voice low, a deep rumble, almost a purr. "Baby. We're here. You're safe."
She doesn’t answer.
Every instinct I have screams at me to go to her. To climb into her nest, pull her against my chest, and hold her until the shaking stops. The urge is visceral, almost painful, but I can’t do that.
Crawling into her nest without some kind of permissionwould destroy the sanctity of it. She’d never feel safe here ever again, and I could never do that to her.
The only response is a muffled whimper from under the blankets. The scent of her distress spikes again, a fresh wave of that acrid, burnt-sugar terror, and it's like a punch to the gut.
Words aren't working. She's lost somewhere in her head, and we can't reach her.
My cock grows thick and long, my body recognizing exactly what my sweet omega needs to pull through this.
It isn't really arousal, but a deep, biological pull to bury myself inside her, to heal the wounds I can't see by claiming her body and resetting her mind.
The bedroom door opens quietly behind me.
I don’t turn, but I know who it is the second I feel the shift in the room. Beck steps inside and closes the door behind him, the soft click seals us in the cozy space.
“I kicked everyone out of the kitchen,” Beck says quietly. He sounds scared. “The house is clear and locked up. It’s just us.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Beck moves silently, his slim frame practically vibrating with nerves as he lingers near the door. His bright blue eyes are fixed on Tansy with a heartbreaking sort of helplessness.
My gaze drifts back to the lump of blankets hiding our omega.
The whimpering has stopped, replaced by a terrifying silence. The scent of her distress is still thick, cloying, but it’s changing. It’s starting to curdle, turning inward. She’s shutting down. And that’s a thousand times worse than the screaming.
I reach through the bond, searching for anything else—anger, pain, relief—but all I find is more fear, endless and cold, pressing back at me from every direction.
Fuck.
I make a decision and let my cane slip from my hand. It hits the carpet with a dull thud, then I start stripping out of my clothes. The jacket comes off first, sliding off my shoulders. I fling it to one side, then loosen my tie and pull it free.
“Cass?” Warren whispers. “What are you doing?”
