Page 112 of Drama Queen

“In my dreams, I see her. Sprawled out before me, a buffet of the best kind. Her honey-caramel scent coated my skin, my tongue, engraved itself in my sinuses,fuck, I could taste her onthe air.” My breathing increases, because the little I do know isn’t going to match well with this version. “The night comes in snippets, us kissing, touching…” His guilty gaze meets ours when he whispers, “knotting.” He closes his eyes tightly, as if the words physically pained him. “Hours passed. She was beautiful.” His hands shake as he combs them through his hair. “It was like being a passenger in my own skin—an out-of-body experience, which is why I was convinced it was all a dream, just like the rest.”

“You figured out she was our mate that night?” Maddock asks, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Without meeting our eyes, he nods. “We share a birthday. Her scent called to me. One second, I was next to Tamera and the bonfire, and the next I’d traced this magnificent scent through the forest. The most mouthwatering aroma I’ve ever come across and it reached in and grabbed hold, leading me subconsciously to her. I remember her eyes being wide, skittish, but happy.” A sad smile tips his lip for a moment before it disappears as he continues. “We ended up in Old Man Randy’s barn. I… I… We had sex. Lots of it. She was sweet, hot, slick, everything we’ve ever dreamed of in an omega. Perfect.” His last word cracks on a whisper as his fingers glide through his hair.

“Then?” I demand harshly.

“Then… I rejected her.” His grip tightens against the strands of his hair, surely tearing them away with self-loathing.

A pregnant pause weighs heavy in the air before all hell breaks loose, and Kato’s battle cry preludes his fist connecting with Hendrix’s face. It’s a melee of insane alpha proportions. We’re each trying to reach Hendrix to gash his throat but also protecting him from each other, as if our sane and insane moments swing on a pendulum of chance. Whatever it is, Hendrix should count his lucky stars because he’s only bloody and bruised, not dead like our alphas demand.

We’re all pacing and growling, but Kato’s eyes are crazed when he turns back and roars, “You rejected our mate. My mate!”

My heart constricts, knowing they don’t have the entire picture—not yet. “There’s something else… or someone else, I should say.”

Maddock’s pupils are blown, overwhelming the ice, and transforming to pitch-black fire. Spittle flies from his mouth when he growls, “Who the fuck is with my mate?”

Shit. Probably should have worded that differently. “Not what I meant,” I correct, shaking my head. There’s no easy way to say it, so ripping off the bandage it is. “She has a baby.” I continue, before they can jump to conclusions, thinking it's not ours. "She’s about the right age and has ice-blue eyes." Hendrix’s gaze snaps to mine, silently asking the question he already knows the answer to. "Yes. She’s yours. Ours." I pause, giving them a moment to let the news sink in before continuing. "She practically climbed me at the library, like she already knew we were kin—could sense it. She called me 'dada.'"

A keening whine erupts from Hendrix as he crumples in on himself, tears flowing freely. "Fuck! I’m so fucking sorry, guys. I don’t know what happened. Seriously. I’ve been losing my fucking mind, thinking about her, questioning whether it was real or not. Wondering if I was the one who drove her away. Now I have my answer. Fuck!" He stands suddenly, panting, before turning back to us with all the sincerity in the world. "I swear to fuck, I have no idea why I behaved like that. Drugged or... something. I would have never turned her away. I wanted her even before I found out we were mates. I hoped we were mates. Now she’s out there alone, raising our child." Suddenly, he bends at the waist. "I think I’m going to be sick."

Kato is quick, snagging a bowl from the counter just in time for Hendrix to hurl. "Easy, brother. We’ll figure this out."

My twin may be the drama queen but is also the most compassionate of us, calming and protecting our brother. I still have the urge to slap some sense into him instead of coddling him. We all know he would never reject our mate, let alone without discussing it with us or letting us know it was Ares. This whole ordeal turns my stomach, even thinking about the upcoming meal.

"This is what we’re going to do," Maddock steps closer, having regained his composure during our brother’s confession. "First, we’re going to find out where our mate lives. Then we’re going to try to explain the situation. I’m sure it’ll be an uphill battle of epic proportions since this whole thing is a clusterfuck. But... we believe you, Drix. We know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt her."

Hearing our eldest brother's understanding completely breaks Hendrix. He sobs, clinging to Kato like the lifeline he clearly is right now. "I’m so sorry," his words garbled, directed more at Ares than at us. "Fuck. I’m so sorry. I’ve just fucked us over. Maybe she’ll let me explain. You three had nothing to do with it. Maybe she’ll accept you if I were to leave, or?—"

"Shut your mouth," I growl, my irritation palpable. Yes, he messed up, but there’s also unclear elements at play. "We’d never leave you behind. Understand?"

He nods, but I can tell he’s not entirely convinced. Stubborn, as always.

"Well, what are we waiting for? We’ve got a baby and an omega to find."

Three

ARES

Days have passedsince the incident. I've had enough time that I don’t expect Knox to appear around every corner anymore. After rationalizing that I’m being ridiculous—they rejected me after all—why would he search for me? Unless he recognized Evie’s eyes, realizing they had a baby together. That could be enough for them to seek me out, if only for her, which is why I continue to be overly cautious. Anytime we leave the house, hats and sunglasses are necessary, making us look like twin divas as we stroll around.

Evie is now zooming all over the house, eager to explore the world at this new level. Her favorite part of walking is being able to push the cart in the store with me, holding my finger with one hand and gripping the shopping cart with the other. She usually tires after the first aisle, and then I’ll plop her in the seat of the cart where she can babble the rest of the trip.

Once we're home and unpacked from our weekly shopping trip, we assemble our cookie ingredients as we wait for our dinner delivery. Instead of cooking dinner on shopping nights, we make dessert and order out.

Evie plays with her juice cup, babbling and occasionally throwing in a 'dada' here and there, gouging my heart with a tiny spoon. I wish things had turned out differently, Moonbeam. Dwelling on my rejection was never an option. Evie made her presence known early on in my pregnancy, not allowing me time to work, since I was constantly sick. Luckily, I’d started a diary. Within those pages was a story waiting to be told. Of course, I rewrote history, creating the happily ever after I’d always dreamed of. Creating stories is where I can fantasize about scenarios of pack life, love, babies, and being a family.

Weakness has tried to cripple me, but being my daughter’s support is where my focus derives. Now, we’re living comfortably and only gaining ground. Evie has all the love I’ll ever need.

The doorbell jerks me back to reality, reminding me that cheesy goodness in the form of pizza is on the other side of my front door, waiting to lift my mood.

Evie complains when I snag the last cracker off her plate, so she’s not eating without me in the room. I promise over my shoulder that I’ll give her a piece of cookie when they’re done instead. She may only be ten months old, but her mouth snaps shut, opting to watch me open the door quietly.

Her reaction causes laughter to vibrate in my chest as I open the door, ready to greet the delivery person with a cheerful "Hi!" But instantly, the good humor and smile slip from my face, replaced quickly with panic.

Maddock.

While my laughter wilts, his chest rumbles with a growl meant to melt panties. The bond snaps like a whip, tearing an unwilling gasp from my lungs. His eyes dilate, homing in like he’s assessing prey.

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