“Ren?” Tic says, peering down at me. Haven is right next to him, hand shaking as she brushes hair back from my face, before Hale gently pulls her back and away. Ignoring her protests witha quiet, “I know you’re worried, mouse. I am too. But we don’t know what’s wrong with her. And you know she’d never forgive herself if you got sick and something happened to the baby.”
I nod. That’s true. I hate that idea.
“We need to get her to a hospital,” My mother says, her tone a combination of concern and strength.
“I’m fine,” I try to say, but my mouth doesn’t seem to want to work very well, so it comes out slurred. “Just air sickness.” That’s not any better.
“Hospital,” Tic agrees, sounding grim as hell. And then we’re moving. My eyes flutter closed. Exhaustion presses in. My body feels three times heavier than normal. My head and muscles ache.
“Sleep, Ren,” Tic murmurs. “We’ve got you. You’re okay.”
My lids flutter closed and I give in to his command, knowing that I can trust him, that I am safe in the arms of my family.
Episode 32: The Price of Magic
I shouldn’t be here.
I know I shouldn’t. Technically, I should still be back at the villa, ‘celebrating,’ pretending to be in love with a woman I loathe.
But I couldn’t stay away.
Lulu’s words are ringing in my ears, muttered under her breath to the red headed PA who used to follow Ren around.
“Production just sent word, Ren’s failure to give a confessional after she was cut was a breach of contract. She won’t be seeing a dime.”
And then the male’s pitying reply. “We warned her what would happen if she didn’t. She made her choice.”
She made her choice to go home empty handed rather than to have them broadcast her heartbreak.
I’d had to sit through the final ceremony, the one where no one was surprised that we sent home Petal and picked Isadora. She cried fake happy tears and we all kissed some part of her that wasn’t her mouth, and then we had to smile for the camera, and finally I was able to corner that same red head and make him tell me where Ren was, right down to her room number.
A hundred slipped to the front desk clerk who is a fan of the show and was apparently ‘shipping’ us with Ren and a few minutes later I have a key to her room burning a hole in my pocket as I stand outside her door.
The key is a precaution. Just in case she doesn’t want to speak to me and I have to force the issue. I intend to give her the option first though.
Heart thundering like I’ve just run a marathon, palms sweaty and throat tight, I knock on the door and wait. Nothing.
Clearing my throat and glancing up and down the hall like someone might be watching, I knock a second time, this time also calling out, “Ren, bubbles, it’s me. Please let me in.”
Still no sound. I press my ear to the door, listening for any indication that she’s coming to answer me, but there’s only silence.
“Florence?”
Panic grips me at the continued silence. She should be here. Marshall told me they’re sending the remaining omegas home tomorrow.
Something must have happened to her. Something bad. Visions of my omega slipping in the shower and cracking her head hit hard and fast. I have to get in there and make sure she’s okay. The light on the lock turns green and I’m pushing into the room, before I can think better of it.
The first thing that hits me is the smell. Citrus and hibiscus almost take me to my knees. I breathe deep, settling Florence’s scent into my lungs, into my veins, into my marrow. Even tinged with sadness and heartbreak, it's the best thing I’ve ever smelled.
Mine.
My omega.
My mate.
“Bubbles?” I choke out, forcing my knees not to buckle so I can step farther into the room, seek out the body the scent belongs to.
It's only after I’ve checked the entire room and the attached bathroom that I realize her scent is going stale, an hour or more old. Not to mention her belongings are gone. No suitcase. No products in the bathroom. No silky dresses in the wardrobe. The only thing that's out of place is the plastic keycard on the top of the dresser that doubles as the television stand. And the neatly folded pajama set that matches the ones she made for us.
