Page 21 of In Their Arms

“You’d need someone willing to do it off the books.”

I nod once, my hands shaking. “And the risk?”

Wilson’s expression turns grim. “The risk is that if it goes wrong, you don’t walk away from it.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, worn piece of paper, something creased from being folded too many times. He holds it between two fingers, extending it toward me like it’s nothing, like it isn’t the most important fucking thing anyone has ever handed me.

I hesitate before standing up and crossing the room to take it, my fingers brushing against his as I unfold the paper. There’s nothing fancy about it. No name, no address—just a single phone number.

“Call the number,” he says. “Tell them you’re looking for the doctor. Tell him what you need and he’ll give you directions after that.”

I stare down at the number, my stomach twisting, my instincts screaming that this is fucking dangerous. That this is crossing a line I can’t come back from. I look back up at him, frowning. “All of this is really shady.”

Wilson snorts, shaking his head. “Of course, it is.” He tilts his head, watching me carefully. “Sometimes, you have to break the law to fix things.”

I exhale through my nose, gripping the paper a little tighter. This isn’t just breaking the law. This is obliterating it. This is an illegal bite removal, an unapproved, highly dangerous procedure that could leave me permanently damaged, or worse—dead. “Why are you helping me?” I finally ask.

Wilson exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw before settling back against the chair. “Because I’ve seen that look in your eyes before. I’ve watched Omegas break and fall apart under the guise that it’s justice, or protection, or whatever bullshit Hearthstone is stuffing down our throats these days. This place,” he says, motioning around the room. “Hearthstone does a lot of good. There are people here who need it. People who would be dead or worse without it. But for all the good it does, there’s still a lot of evil.”

I glance back down at the number, my fingers tracing the ink, memorizing the numbers without even thinking about it. Wilson nods at it. “Memorize it. Then shred that piece of paper.”

I press the paper against my palm, forcing myself to focus. “And if I call him? What then?”

Wilson sighs. “He’ll ask something of you.”

I glance back up, eyes narrowing. “Like what?”

Wilson shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s never free. But if you want this enough, it won’t matter what it is.”

I wet my lips, forcing myself to ask the next question, the one that’s been eating at me since he handed me the number. “How am I even supposed to get there?” I shake my head, gesturing vaguely around the room. “There are bars on the windows. All the doors are guarded.”

Wilson stands, stretching like this conversation hasn’t just completely changed my life. He walks toward the door, resting a hand on the knob before glancing over his shoulder. “The doctor’s office isn’t.” Then he opens the door and walks out. Leaving me with nothing but the number in my palm and the knowledge that I just agreed to do something I can never undo.

13

Blake

I wake up aching, my body too warm, the heat curling low in my stomach refusing to settle. It isn’t as bad as last night, but it’s still there, humming beneath my skin, twisting through my muscles, until laying here feels like both the best and worst thing right now.

I shift slightly, adjusting against the weight wrapped around me, trying to find relief, trying to get comfortable, but it doesn’t help. My body wants something, someone, more than what I have right now. I already know what’s missing.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the feeling away, curling further into Maceo’s chest, trying to pretend like it’s enough. Grayson’s arm is draped across my waist, his face buried into the back of my head, Maceo holding us together, anchoring us, shielding us from the rest of the world. And yet, it’s still not enough.

A groan falls from my lips as I shift again, trying to find a spot comfortable enough for sleep but the pressure in my bladder quickly forces me to move. I wriggle carefully, trying not to wake my mates, trying not to think about how much I hate leaving the small spot between them. Because for the first time in years, I didn’t hate the prospect of a heat. I’m still fucking terrified and I don’t like losing myself like I did but it’s not as horrid as a thought.

Unfortunately, all that changes when I slip into the bathroom, the emptiness of the apartment overwhelming my senses. Their scents are still lingering—a mixture of leather and the ocean, sweet and rough all wrapped up in a fading aura. A few deep breaths isn’t enough to gorge on what’s left of their presence as if them leaving this house has stolen our connection too.

I could have buried myself in Luca’s nest—he wouldn’t have minded—but it feels wrong to be in that space when he’s not here, when he’s been taken from me. Trying to bury all those thoughts and just focus on the here and now, I go through the motions, finish what I need to do, wash my hands, and then I stare at myself in the mirror.

I look like shit. My eyes are bloodshot, my skin pale, the flush from the heat spike still clinging to my cheeks, making me look too warm, too fevered, too needy. I drag a hand through my hair, pushing it back, trying to collect myself before stepping back into my room and immediately searching for the two people I won’t find. My instincts are riding me high, even if the spike is over. I want to burrow myself between Maceo and Grayson and at the same time, whine for what I want, that neediness creeping back up now that I’m awake.

Grayson slowly sits up, throwing me a sloppy grin before opening his arms to me. I stumble into his embrace, nearly tripping over Maceo. He lets out a displeased grunt as I soak up the comfort these two provide, my Alpha placing a soft kiss to my forehead. “How are you feeling, babe?”

I let them pull me back in, even though it isn’t enough.

“Physically, I’m fine right now,” I say, my voice scratchy, my throat tight. “Nothing hurts. I can breathe.” I exhale slowly, staring at the ceiling, trying to focus on something else. “I don’t feel like going anywhere until they come home. Is that wrong? Is that bad? I wanted to work a little, focus on something else…” My attention flits to the door and then I curse myself for it. The tangible fear from when Luca kept leaving me, even just to go to the bathroom is gone but my gaze is still wandering, still searching.

Maceo moves to sit up as well, placing a hand to my back and I settle further between them. “We’ll bring them back, Blake. I promise you that.” I notice he doesn’t say when but I trust his words anyway, staying curled up between them, up until a wave of cold air runs across my skin.

I hesitated, knowing that they’re both going to protest but the need for a distraction is even greater today. Because I can feel Luca even less than I did yesterday and I don’t want to believe that he’s slipping through my fingers,ourfingers. “I have some stuff to catch up with at work. Just some emails and things to stay busy. Check in on Bryant maybe.” The words all feel like lead coming out of my mouth, rehearsed words I’ve said a billion times but it feels different now. I’m not excited about it like I was a few weeks ago.

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