Page 125 of Glass Omega

Rhodes reached into his jacket, pulling out the burner cell phone that had been in the large duffel bag waiting at the end of the tunnel that day.

I’d fought him the entire way, yelling for Edison until he hushed me when we heard footsteps overhead. Then he’d loaded me up into a car and we’d driven to a private airport to flee the country.

Leaving Edison behind had never been something that sat right with me even long after we’d left the estate.

Apparently, the two had hatched up this stupid plan when we all agreed to be a pack and decided that I didn’t need to know even a little bit about it.

If anything went wrong, Rhodes was to take me and leave and Edison was supposed to meet up with us later by contacting us on the burner phone currently in his hand.

We only ever switched it on in the most bustling parts of the capital of Ireland, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves if the wrong person had a hold of the other phone and could track us.

So every day we ventured into the city from the old stone cottage an hour and a half out and Rhodes switched the phone on to check it.

And every day I held my breath, hoping that Edison would be on the other end, ready to tell us that it was time to come home.

Rhodes pressed his thumb on the power button, waiting for it to switch on as his brows drew together in anticipation.

“Well?” I asked after a few minutes, my patience already thin from the lack of caffeine and my usual nausea courtesy of my unborn progeny who liked to make their presence known just like their father did even if they were currently the size of a plum.

“Nothing,” Rhodes said, sounding more disappointed than I felt.

I shouldn’t have expected anything. It had been three months and there was no news from our third packmate.

Maybe he’s dead, the nasty little voice that always decided to make itself known whenever we did our daily phone switch on whispered.Maybe that chest wound really did him in.

It had been bleeding a lot. More than I’d ever seen anything bleed before.

“I wish you could reach out to your contacts to ask how things are going.” My voice was glum as I slumped down into my chair and stared out the window at the crowded street outside.

It was almost February, but that didn’t seem to slow down the number of tourists that packed the cobblestone streets outside. A few streets over there were patrons filling the Temple Bar pubs, looking for a pint of Guinness even though it was only just after nine in the morning making the same cheesy‘it’s five o’clock’somewhere jokes to a bartender who really couldn’t care less.

“You know that will expose us,” Rhodes said, beginning his usual lecture about keeping me and the baby safe—one of his favorites for when my impatience got the better of me.

I was only half-listening as I continued to watch rain drizzle down the large cafe window.

Then I felt a tug on the bond.

“I’m listening, Rhodes,” I told him absentmindedly. “You don’t have to yank on the bond like you’d yank on my jacket in order to get my attention.”

Rhodes stopped mid-lecture, frowning at me. “What do you mean? I didn’t touch the bond.”

We both paused, staring at each other. I felt another tug, this time stronger.

My chair squealed on the tiled floors of the cafe as I pushed myself into a standing position, my eyes scanning the outside street with a renewed interest.

People still passed by the window in a blur, but I wasn’t looking at them. No. I was looking at the figure across the street standing in a dark coat with an umbrella held low so that it obscured their face.

But I didn’t need to see their face. I’d know that arrogant posture anywhere.

My feet were moving before I could really register what was going on and I heard Rhodes call after me, still confused because he hadn’t felt what I felt.

Three months ago my wayward, injured alpha had cut us off from his end of the bond, probably out of some misguided notion that we shouldn’t feel his pain, or in the worst case scenario, his death.

It felt like I lost a piece of my soul that day.

A piece that was now standing in the rain not ten feet from me as I ran across the road, nearly stumbling on an awkward piece of cobblestone, making the figure drop the umbrella entirely and revealing the face that I already knew would be Edison Keane.

“Damn it, Perrie,” his voice that I hadn’t heard in so long met my ears over the sound of rain and the passing bystandersas I threw myself the rest of the way, expecting and knowing he would catch me. “Why are you running like that? You’re pregnant!”

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