Page 55 of Forget

Domh:

Noted. I want updates on her though.

Me:

Got it.

It feelslike a fever dream as I climb out of the truck, locking up behind me as I trudge up to the front door. While someone plowed the driveway, the stairs to the front door are icy and full of snow.

I almost fall on my ass twice going up them, but finally get the door open.

The house is abnormally quiet as I close the door behind me and slip out of my shoes and socks. I don’t want to stomp around while I’m investigating, nor do I want to be heard.

Hiding my shoes behind the coat rack, I begin prowling through the house. No one is on the back patio, the chef is preparing a late lunch, and there’s no sign of Cian.

It’s not until I start walking toward the steps that I hear his voice on the phone, and I hide behind a large door that separates the sunroom from the rest of the house.

“I know, doctor, but she’s crying in her sleep,” Cian says, his voice tortured. “I don’t know what to do, or how to help her. Fuck, well that’s just not helpful!”

His roar makes me wince as he continues his tirade down the hall, allowing me to sneak my large body up the stairs. My shoulders are bunched up at my ears from the tension that I feel, and I race on silent feet to Aisling’s room. It’s clear something is wrong, she’s in pain, yet it could be anything.

Is she sick? Why can’t the doctor fix what’s wrong?

The questions are endless as I ease open the little omega’s door, only to be slammed in the face with her scent.

“Fuck,” I grunt, wincing as I adjust my dick.

All I can smell is slick, need, and my omega. My eyes bounce around the room that she’s made hers, noticing the blackout curtains hung up and blocking out the light, the soft lamps lit, but I can’t find her.

The room is made up of soft blues and teals, and the pillows have pops of purple on her bed. I pay attention to all of it, imagining what it would be like for her to live with the guys and I.

She needs her own room, and the guys need a project. Taking quick photos of it all, I send it to our group chat.

Me:

Keep yourselves busy. Build our girl a nest.

It seems like weird,obsessive behavior, but my inner alpha is puffing out his chest in approval. I won’t ignore my instincts. I can’t. My heart is still pounding in my chest as I walk to her closet and yank the door open.

“What the fuck?” I gasp.

Aisling is laying on the floor on a pallet made of blankets and fluffy pillows. She’s hooked up to an IV, and whatever is in it is slowly dripping into her vein. She’s clearly in pain, her thighsrubbing against each other as she whines, tears rolling down her face.

I drop to my knees next to her, eyes wide as my chest begins to heave. There’s so many questions in my mind, and I can’t focus on any of them when she takes a deep breath and stills.

Her head turns toward me, though she doesn’t open her eyes.

“Alpha,” she whispers, her voice raspy and cracking.

How long has she been like this? Is this how she spent fucking Christmas?

I can’t not touch her. I lean over and cup her cheek.

“Baby girl, what the fuck is going on?” I whisper. Tears well in my eyes as I stare at her.

I should be worried about Cian coming upstairs, but I can’t be fucked to do so. My cock is straining, begging to sink into her pussy, yet I hold back. That would get me killed.

My instincts are both a blessing and a curse. Aisling relaxes as I rub her cheek, and I realize that she can scent me. Fuck. Whatever she’s been using has officially worn off.

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