Page 59 of Altius
My alpha snarled at the thought.
She regarded me with an expression so neutral it verged on dissociation. “Sorry for wasting your time.”
And then she was gone—leaving me in a pool of floral-tinged acid and rust.
“Wait, Morgan!” Alijah dashed out of the elevator, holding his phone. Cal trailed a step behind.
But it was too late. She’d already disappeared through the door leading into the player areas.
Cal looked winded, almost panting as he collided with her pheromones. He leaned forward, one hand digging intohis hip while the other pulled at his hair. “Honestly, Owen. Unbelievable.”
Alijah turned on me with cold black eyes and entered my space.
“What didyoudo?” he bit out, jabbing his finger into my tie.
If he wasn’t a packmate, I would have eased my control—and dropped him to the floor.
“Excuse me for not reading her latest missive.”
“Oh—oh no.” Alijah reared back, trying to unlock his phone with shaking fingers.
Cal groaned, head angled toward the ceiling, hands clenched as if resisting the urge to deck me, voice quiet but threatening. “I can’t—not right now.”
He exhaled and started for the exit.
Holding his phone to his ear, arms pressed tight against his slim torso, Alijah hurried after him, leaving me no choice but to follow suit.
“Babe? Hold on a sec,” Alijah said as we stepped out into the blistering cold. Shielding the microphone, he called after Cal’s retreating bulk. “What should we do?”
Cal paused long enough to bark out orders—an actual bark. “No one talks to her. Let me handle it. Be at your place by seven.”
A furious gaze landed on me, overflowing with censure, but we were in public, and he couldn’t unload on me here. Cal stalked off in the direction of his truck.
“What is so important about one clinical observation report?” I asked, but Alijah was focused on talking to his mate in a hushed tone.
“No—yeah. Yeah, he fucked it. Told her he didn’t have time… Don’t know if he said thatexactly… You mean it might just be a misunderstanding? I don’t know, babe. Her pheromones smelled like—like rejection. And a little bit of heartbreak… Wait,you what? Oh, okay.” He shoved the phone at me without warning. “Talk to Joaquin.”
“Listen up, you prick,” Joaquin’s voice came blaring out of the phone. Impressive, considering it wasn’t on speaker. “Did you tell Morgan that you didn’t have time to readanemail—or that you don’t have time to assist with herheat?”
Cold assaulted me from all directions. “Her—her—what?”
“Wyatt got an offer to join Morgan’s heat. She told him we should have one, too, but they sent it to your personal email.”
Vulnerability. That was the unfamiliar element to her demeanor just now.
She dropped her guard in my presence for the first time because she wanted my pack—wanted me—to assist with her heat.
And I ruined it.
It was an honest mistake. An oversight on my part.
Yet again, I’d let my professional ambitions trample on the feelings of my desired pack.
I thought rushing to this gymnastics meeting was the right thing to do—for PheroPass, for us—and that fleeting sense of belonging she inspired when standing between Cal and me.
“Fucking Redmonds and your fucking communication allergy.” Joaquin huffed into the receiver. “Okay, listen up. You’re going to get in your car, find the message, and forward it to Alijah and me. Do not get distracted with work shit. Put your pack first for two minutes, okay?”
“Yes. I can do that.” Thinking back on Cal’s words, I asked, “Can you be home by seven?”
