I didn't stand up for her. I didn't push back when Ragon started pulling away from her. I didn't question the nest violation beyond the minimal. I didn't insist hard enough that we check on her during Marie's heat. I didn't challenge Ragon when he barked at me to stay in that room.
I should have done it.
I should have made the case for Vee. I'm smarter than Ragon and he knows it. He listens when I push. I could have pushed. I could have told him what his obsession with Marie was costing all of us.
But I didn't.
Because I was just as consumed. Just as lost in the scent match pull. Just as useless.
Worse than Drake, maybe. Because Drake wears his heart on his sleeve. Drake's guilt is honest and raw.
Mine is calculated. Intellectual. I can see exactly where I failed and why and that makes it so much worse.
I hope her scent matches take better care of her than we did.
I hope they deserve her.
Because we sure as hell don't.
The drive home is twenty minutes I don't remember making. I pull into the driveway and sit in the car with the engine off, not ready to go in.
The house is dark, Ragon is still at work. He's been doing that a lot lately. Working well into the night with floodlights to see by. I know he's avoiding the house because I've been doing the same. The silence here is too loud with both of them gone.
I let myself in through the front door. The emptiness hits immediately.
No Vee in the kitchen. No smell of whatever she's been baking. No Drake on the couch making too much noise at the TV.
Just silence.
I haven't heard from Drake in days. I've texted him a few times. No response. He hasn't been back at work. I've been covering for him. Told them he was out with the flu.
I rub the raw spot in my chest that's been hollow since Drake broke his bond. It throbs harder when I think about him.
I'm worried. The bond break was brutal. He's out there somewhere, probably sick and alone, and I can't reach him. He's a nurse. He knows he needs help after a break like that. I can only hope he got it.
I drop my bag by the door and head toward the kitchen. Maybe I'll eat something. Maybe I'll just go to bed.
Then I hear a voice.
Jasper.
He's in the kitchen. He's visible through the doorway, slumped over the island with his back to me.
He's on the phone. Speaker. The voice coming through is male, professional.
"The video footage you sent is working wonders," the voice says. "It corroborates the timeline Arden's building."
I freeze in the hallway.
"Good," Jasper says. "What else do you need from me?"
"Just keep documenting. Anything Ragon says about her. Any attempts to contact her or locate her. Deflect them if you can."
"He's been calling lawyers," Jasper says. "Trying to find a way to challenge the scent match claim when he takes it to the registry. How's she doing?"
"According to Arden, she's going through the grieving process. It's rough but she's safe. The cabin is isolated enough that Ragon won't find her and it's not connected to Alex or his pack in any way."
The cabin. Arden. Alex.
