The guy —Jamie? Was that what he’d said his name was?— smiled ruefully. “Yeah, that’s a fair question when you don’t know me from Adam.” He hummed to himself, then straightened up, brightly chirping, “Wait here.”
“Yeah, because I’ve got any other option,” I drawled, but he was a squirrel again before I’d finished speaking, and he raced back into the other cell and up the rough brick wall as quickly as he’d arrived.
My stomach sank. Even if I hadn’t trusted —or even liked— him, he’d been company…and now he was gone again.
Great work, Sage.
I sat down heavily with a sigh and hung my head. A handful of minutes later, though, I heard his little feet scrabbling against the brick again, and I looked up to find him carrying a phoneon some kind of makeshift lanyard, the cord clamped between his teeth. The device swung and clattered against the brick as he scrambled awkwardly down the wall with it, but then he shifted once he reached the ground, picking the phone up and tapping at the screen.
“A little scratched, but it works,” he said, sounding relieved, before bringing it over and holding it through the bars of my cell. I noticed that he was careful not to let his fingers breach the perimeter of the bars, extending the phone through by holding one end of the screen carefully.
“It doesn’t hurt when you’re in human form,” I told him, but I took the phone and let him back up anyway. My eyes watered as I understood that I could call Sergio and Dex —or anyone else I chose to— through this act of kindness. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said, leaning against the smooth concrete wall on the other side of the hallway from my cell. “Go ahead and call whoever you need to. They’re all going out of their minds trying to get you out of here.”
Throat tightening, I dialed Sergio’s number, relieved to see it come up in Jamie’s contacts as ‘Sergio Lightfoot – Shaman’ as though my alpha was a vague acquaintance or professional contact, and not a lover. Serge picked up as soon as the first dial-tone began to bleat in my ear.
“Sage?” he asked and simply hearing him say my name had tears spilling down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” I sniffled. “I’msosorry.”
“What? Why? Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
I shook my head, even though Serge couldn’t see me, and I didn’t bother to fight the tears or hide them from my audience. He’d turned away slightly to give me some semblance of privacy,which I appreciated, but now that I could hear my alpha again —could even talk to him— I didn’t care who saw me breaking down.
“I…I was angry, and I told you to go fuck off and stay away, and I didn’t mean it. I just wanted you to come home.” I’d regretted my angry parting words more and more with every passing hour since I’d been arrested. What if I never got the opportunity to apologize or explain? What if Sergio thought I was still angry with him? What if—
“I deserved it, Sage. I was gone for too long, and then I broke my promise…” There was a deep, mournful sigh down the line. “Iam sorry, beautiful. The Magic might have agreed that we should start passing the knowledge on, but it didn’t feel urgent. I should have come home and made arrangements to help at a later date, or sent someone else over…or something.” Serge sighed again, letting out a short, self-deprecating huff of air as he added, “I might be old, but I am certainly not wise.”
“You’re notthatold,” I argued back through a watery chuckle, reminding him, “you keep up with me and Dex just fine.”
“Or at least you humor me and allow me to believe I do.”
The conversation fell into a lull at that point, despite the fact that I had a million things I wanted to say to him. I just had no idea where or how to start.
Before I could try, though, Serge said, “We’ve told the lawyer to try harder to get you out, and Dex and Brandt are looking for the dealer who did this to you, okay? No plea deals, beautiful. You’re coming home soon.”
I snorted, wishing I had the kind of hope he did. “That gross-smelling waste of space is probably long gone by now,” Isaid. “And the lawyer was right; the evidence against me is way too strong to fight against with just my word.”
“Sage, no. Listen to me, you can’t—"
I tried to steel myself against the newest wave of emotion. I wanted to be strong for my alpha. For both my mates. I didn’t want them to waste time on something so futile. Not when it would really only be a blip in the grand scheme of things. I cleared my throat and spoke over the top of him, my voice wavering while I tried to sound resolved. “You, me, and Dex…we can…we can survive a few years of me being away, right? I mean, with our lifespans—"
“We’re not having a baby with you in jail, Sage. Even if Dex has to break you out of there…”
I…what?
“What…what baby?” I asked slowly, feeling my stomach sink. “Serge, is Dex...was Dex’s heat…”
I couldn’t finish the questions, not sure if I even wanted to hear the answers. Of course I would be happy if Dex was pregnant, but some part of me was already jealous of the idea. He’d never wanted to bear children, while my omega longed desperately for it. But Dex was my mate as much as Serge was, and that still meant that I’d be a dad, even if in a different capacity to the way I’d always dreamed I would be.
“Shit,” Sergio cursed, which sounded funny coming from him. I would have laughed, but obviously he hadn’t wanted to say anything, and that made me want to cry.
“It’s…it’s okay,” I tried to assure him through a throat that felt so tight that it burned. “I-I’m happy that you and Dex…that, uh,that we’re—”
“No, Sage, you misunderstood me.” Serge sounded strained now, tense in a way I couldn’t pinpoint, but I swore I heard him swallow before he continued, “Dexter isn’t pregnant.” I felt so, so guilty for the rush of relief that swept over me at those words that I almost missed the next ones. “Youare.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
