Page 9

Fate Made Us Do it

Beau: Nothing.

Finally.

Also, bullshit.

Fate Made Us Do it

Paige: Like you said to me, try again.

Evan: The plane just dropped hard.

My stomach drops just as hard.

What the hell?

My fingers are trembling, and I struggle to type.

Paige: ???

No answer.

My heart is in my throat. My pulse is roaring in my ears.

I try again.

Paige: What the fuck do you mean dropped?

Why aren’t they answering? Why the hell aren’t they…?

I can’t slow my breathing. I can’t suck in air.

My lungs are burning.

I can’t smell the chemical paint, feel the sunshine on my skin, or even hear the chirping of the cicadas.

I am no longer even overwhelmed by the burning fever as it tears through me, calling for my Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.

Everything in me is hyperfocused on the piece of shit phone clutched in my hand, and the dots that tell me my pack are typing.

Yet they are stuck up in the air, thousands of miles above me, while something is going wrong.

Fate Made Us Do it

Evan: They’re telling everyone to stay seated.

Beau: It’s probably turbulence.

It’s not.

I can tell that it’s not by Beau’s frightened emotions through the bond, as I press my hand over my bond mark like I can touch him through it.

Beau doesn’t show fear, but I can sense it now.

He’s staying calm for my sake and Evan’s.

I lick my dry lips.