She crumpled to the floor, and, without coordinating, our Alphas surged forward, kneeling beside her in a guardian circle. Tessa cried uncontrollably, her body heaving and tears streaming down her face. Something fell to the tiled floor, slipping out from some hidden place on her person. All I could see was a sliver of pink and a flash of silver before the silky dress shifted.
"Tessa," I whispered, reaching out but afraid to touch her. "We're here. We've got you."
None of us knew what to do with this broken, beautiful creature who'd just poured her heart out in our kitchen. Her grief was a living, breathing thing; it sucked all the oxygen from the room. We exchangedhelpless glances over her head, each of us feeling the pull to comfort but unsure how to navigate.
It was Mac who finally moved decisively. He slid closer and carefully drew her into his arms, cradling her against his chest while she continued to cry. Her small body shook with the force of her weeping.
"Let it out," he murmured, one hand stroking her hair. "You've been carrying this alone for too long."
"I can't—" she gasped between sobs, her words dissolving into unintelligible sounds. Her hands clutched at her chest as if she could physically hold her breaking heart together.
Dixon's eyes had gone wild again, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "I'll kill whoever pushed her out of her home," he growled, his voice barely human. "Tax evasion? The Fortune Pack was one of the wealthiest in the country."
"Not now," I warned, my voice low enough that Tessa wouldn't hear over her crying.
“Selfish,” she managed to say the word clearly, her nails now digging into her exposed upper chest. The neck of her dress was nearly soaked with tears.
“You’re not selfish,” Mac soothed.
I shifted forward, wrapping my hands around her wrist and pulling them away from her body. Claw marks marred her perfect flesh. “You survived, Tessa. That’s not a sin. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Her scent was chaotic. Her Omega needs had been so long denied, trapped inside a prison of grief and guilt. How long had she tortured herself? Blamed herself? Dixon reached to touch her, palm finding the small of her back. Tray began stroking her hair. I worried we would overwhelm her again, but Tessa’s sobs began to weaken. She must have been so exhausted, even before weeping her heart out. As her tears dried, her lids fluttered with fatigue. Though she probably didn’t want to, she fell asleep in Mac’s arms.
Her tears had soaked through his shirt to his skin. I knew Mac didn’t care. He shifted carefully, trying to repositionmore comfortably. The way he was kneeling had to hurt like hell against the hard floor. When Tessa stirred slightly, her head burrowing into his chest, Mac froze. But she wasn’t going to wake up, not after such an emotional drain. Her breathing was soft. Her lips were parted angelically. God, she was perfect.
“Let’s get her to the couch. Dixon?” Mac didn’t move a muscle, letting Dixon position in front of him, slide his hands beneath Tessa and lift her away. He jostled her in the process, which was unavoidable, but once she was cradled firmly against him, Tessa showed no new signs of waking. Tray helped Mac stand up, his legs were locked up and numb.
My peripheral vision caught a flash of silver below. Glancing down, I found a small pink collar. I bent down, snagging it. It must be what had fallen to the floor when Tessa collapsed. I turned it over in my hands slowly, then checked the circular tag. Josie Fortune. The contract didn’t allow for the matched Omega to bring anything from her previous life, yet this had been important enough for her to smuggle, hiding it God knows where on her body. I wrapped my hand around it tightly before slipping it into my pocket for safekeeping.
Dixon was already striding out of the kitchen. I rushed forward, slipping around him once we were in the living room so I could get to the sectional first. I positioned throw pillows for Tessa’s head and then moved out of the way.
He lowered her down, but seemed reluctant to let her go. I knew how he felt, like she could disappear at any second. I placed a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him that she wasn’t going to vanish into thin air. I don’t know which of us I was actually trying to convince. Slowly, he pulled his arms away. Instantly, Tessa turned on her side and bent her legs, tucking them into her chest. She looked so tiny that way, barely taking up one cushion of the giant sofa. When my gaze caught sight of the sandals, I frowned at the ugly red welts they’d caused on her small feet.
“Get me some scissors, will you?” I looked at Dixon. When he arched an eyebrow, I wordlessly pointed at Tessa’s feet. I probably shouldn’t have. His Alpha nature was quick to anger, and I saw the way his face reddened as he took in the sight of her tortured skin.
But he rallied, nodding quickly. “Be right back.”
Mac and Tray entered, wordlessly moving around the living room to pull the dark shades across the patio doors, flick on the faux fireplace for a nightlight, and fiddle with the sound system to send soft music flowing through the space. A sharp meow startled all of us. The cat. We’d forgotten about her.
Josie padded out of the kitchen, flicking her crooked tail and licking her lips.
As we watched, she searched the room until she discovered Tessa. Tray went to grab her, worried she’d wake up our slumbering Omega, but the feline was too quick. She jumped onto the sectional, beelined for her owner, walked up her legs, and proceeded to curl up against her curved side.
“She’d want it that way,” I said softly. “They’re probably used to sleeping together.”
Dixon came back with petite scissors then. He’d gotten the ones from the sewing kit we carried on tour. We didn’t normally handle wardrobe repairs, but we’d also learned to be prepared. A stylist wasn’t always on hand when a costume malfunction hit. I took them from him, dropping to the carpet and going to work. One by one, I snipped the tiny golden cords. I had to lift her feet a little to fully free them, but when the shoes were finally removed, I handed them over to Dixon—who immediately broke each in half.
I stood up and grabbed a velvety throw from the storage basket near the fireplace. Slipping the blanket over her body, I was struck with how different she looked sleeping. Her face was peaceful, slack. The weight of the worlds didn’t rest on her narrow shoulders.
“We should go somewhere else, so we don’t accidentally wake her,” Mac spoke softly.
He was right. One of us would probably wake her without meaning to, since none of us were used to being cautious in our own home. Despite the good advice, every single one of us found a perch in the living room. I sat on the floor near the fireplace, back against the cabinet. Tray and Dixon sat on the sofa as far away from Tessa as possible. Mac wentinto the foyer to lounge on the padded bench near the front door. He could still see into the living room from there. Bad choice on his part though. That shit was uncomfortable as fuck.
My phone buzzed. I leaned over, fishing it out and bringing the screen to life.
Catalina: How’s it going?
Me: she’s asleep.
