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Taking a few steps closer to the edge, she peers over and calls out. “You alright?”
Silence.
Soren’s chest vibrates like mad, his eyes flashing bright green every few seconds as his Beast pushes to the surface.
I follow his gaze back toward the sinkhole, and immediately understand what has his Beast so worked up.
Pale, delicate fingers emerge, curling around the grass and dirt and gripping onto the edge. My heart starts to pound against my rib cage, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. My hands curl into fists at my sides, and as her other hand reaches up, mirroring the first, I squeeze so tight my nails bite into the flesh of my palms.
Anxiety rushes over me, a wave of it so intense it threatens to pull me under. I feel almost dizzy with anticipation.
What the hell is happening?
With slow, hesitant movements, Idril uses her grip and pushes up and onto the rocky ledge. The pale skin arms and shoulders gleam in the moonlight, like magic given flesh. She trembles, but not too badly.
That doesn’t stop me from holding myself back from stepping forward, fingers twitching with the need to help.
She kneels on the ground, head bent and her hair falling forward to hide her face. And despite the subservient position, there’s something about her that’s… different. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I can fucking feel it.
It buzzes against my skin, sparking in the air like tiny bolts of lightning, demanding my attention. It makes me want to get closer while simultaneously warning me to stay the fuck away.
With controlled, graceful movements, she gets her feet under her and stands. She’s just as dirty and beat up as Branwen, but I don’t notice it like I did when the other Omega first appeared. Even wearing nothing but a cropped tank top and cotton shorts, there’s something else calling to me—pulling my attention.
With a jolt, I realize part of the reason she seems so different is the way she holds herself. I’m so used to her always bracing herself for the next bad thing. I’ve gotten used to the way she hunches her shoulders, curling them in like she’s trying to hide from the world. Or the way she’s almost always subconsciously fidgeting with something—her hands, the sleeves of her shirt, the fabric of her leggings.
For the first time, that fear is no longer front and center. It’s not gone—innate terror like that doesn’t simply disappear—but even with her head bowed, she doesn’t look like a female anticipating pain.
Her limbs are loose, and her shoulders and back are straight.
And when she finally raises her head…
The world feels like it stops.
Vae gasps. A few feet in front of us, Soren grunts like he’s had the air knocked out of him. And Caelan… our brother’s spine straightens imperceptibly as a torrent of pride explodes through our Pack Bond.
I’m frozen to the spot, unable to move.
Bright blue eyes—eyes always swimming with terror and pain—are now clear and sharp. Focused in a way I’ve never seen and, until this moment, never could have imagined.
She scans the clearing, and I hold my breath, chest tightening as she searches for something. And even though I know–I fucking know–I’m not who she’s looking for, it still feels like I’ve been stabbed in the fucking chest when her eyes skate over Vae and me without so much as a flicker of recognition.
Like we’re a natural part of the forest, hardly enough to signify.
Like we’re nothing.
And fuck… why would I expect any different? To her, we are nothing. I don’t even understand why I’m suddenly feeling like this about her. It’s—it’s—fucking absurd. She’s Caelan’s Mate, not mine.
Not ours.
Idril’s gaze lands on her Mates, and her lips curl into a soft, tender smile.
Like that’s all they’ve been waiting for, Caelan and Soren both lunge—
And stumble to a stop when Idril’s hand snaps up in silent command to stay where they are.
Caelan’s expression falls. Soren’s brows pull together in confusion.
Idril’s gaze softens.
