Page 118 of How to Lose a Pack in 10 Dates

I haven’t asked Cam or Wes, but I don’t think I really need to. The guilt’s already stitched into the silence between us; and still—despite everything—I can’t shake this sick feeling in my chest.

Like maybe we fucked it all up. Like maybe that panic-stricken, scent-drunk omega crying in the middle of the bedroom was never the villain in this story.

And maybe we left her anyway.

*

As to be expected, another day at the gym didn’t help.

I’d pushed myselfhardfor the last two and a half hours, maybe closer to three. Every machine, every weight rack, every bag I could punch without drawing blood; and still, as I step through the front door and toe off my shoes,she’sthe only thing in my head.

I towel the sweat from my neck and head for the kitchen, but a knock at the front door stops me mid-step. It’s Cam who answers it.

“Uh… hi,” an unfamiliar voice says.

I turn around just as she steps inside. She’s a beta; mid-to-late twenties, give or take, with cool-toned hair and a look on her face that says she already regrets showing up. She hugs her arms around herself, hesitant as she steps inside.

“My name’s Zara,” she says. “I’m a friend of Aimee’s.”

I frown deeper, but Cam doesn’t move. “How’d you know where to find us?”

“She’s had her location shared with me for months. I’ve seen this place on the map more times than I can count,” she explains. “Look, I’m not here to make trouble. I just—I’ve been trying to get through to her, and she’s stopped answering. She’s not reallythere.She’s barely eating, probably not sleeping well, either. I spoke to her boss, and she’s been off work for the past few days. I know she’s alive—we’ve seen the lights on, and she texts back sometimes—but it’s turned into nonsense.”

Cam stiffens. “Why are you telling us this?” he asks, cautious.

“Because I don’t know what else to do.” Zara’s voice wavers, but there’s steel under it now. “I know what happened. I know what youthinkhappened. But you’re wrong. She didn’t betray you,and she never meant to hurt anyone. She was scared, and she messed up, but shelovedyou. All of you.”

Wes appears behind us, but he doesn’t come further into the room. Zara meets his stare head-on.

“She confided in me weeks ago about how real it felt. About how scared she was that she was going to screw it up beyond repair. You think this was all some long con? That she played you for a joke?” Zara laughs bitterly. “I watched her cry over her lunch because she was terrified of needing you too much. Terrified she wouldn’t survive it if it went wrong.”

“Get out,” Wes says, voice like stone.

Zara’s brows lift. “Seriously?”

“Isaid,” his voice drops lower, dangerous now “Get. Out.”

She inhales a quick breath through her nostrils before continuing, pushing back against him.

“She wrote both versions of that article because she didn’t know which ending she was allowed. I told her to do it anyway. Told her you were worth the risk. That real packs, real bonds, reallove—they’re messy, but they’re worth fighting for.”

Her voice breaks slightly, but she catches it.

“I told heryouwere worth fighting for.” Her eyes blaze now as she looks between us. “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe you’re not who I thought you were either.”

A long beat of silence passes between us all.

“It’s too late,” Wes says, flat and final.

Cam shifts beside me, guilt twisting across his face. I can feel it rising in my own chest, hot and bitter, but it’s too late to sayanything. Zara sees it—sees all of it—and lets out a breath that’s more heartbreak than anger now.

“Yeah,” she whispers, stepping back. “That’s exactly what she was afraid of.”

She turns and walks out.

Cam sinks onto the couch eventually, but he doesn’t reach for the remote. Wes disappears back into the kitchen, slamming a cupboard open just to slam it closed again.

I don’t even bother showering. I sit in it all—guilt, confusion, ache—until the sound of a phone buzzing cuts through.

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