Page 62 of Patiently Yours
I nod firmly. He doesn’t go back to the fruit platter, his expression now serious and concerned. “We should have all gone.”
“There’s no need to do that, At.” Ciro speaks up, looking solemn. “They’re here now, and there’s nothing we could have done. We would have done more than fucked him up if it was all of us.”
I point at him, agreeing. “Anyway, that’s not the only problem.”
“Yeah,” Atlas sighs. “I noticed. Do you know what she’s on?”
Our beta looks confused, his gaze darting between us. “What she’son? She’s on something right now?” A sense of urgency sparks in the air, and his body suddenly can’t stand still as his gaze keeps going to the doorway like he wants to run to her.
“I’m not sure. She’s euphoric. She almost screamed when Kendall pulled her to him, but then she wouldn’t let go after. She wasn’t responding to our questions a whole lot, either. She wassweating bullets, but to be honest, it was extremely hot in that house.”
Atlas is deep in thought, his brows scrunching between his eyes. “We’ll have to talk to her about it candidly. Not tonight.” He adds the last words sternly, looking between the two of us. “We’ll let her enjoy whatever she’s on in a safe environment, here, with us. Tomorrow, we’ll talk to her. Try to get her to understand that we want to be there for her if and when she decides to do it again.”
I agree wholeheartedly. She’s ours, unconditionally. If this is something she enjoys and partakes in, we want her to at least be safe. That’s the prerogative.
“She must do it from time to time, because she was on something when we met,” Ciro adds. “She was trying to get home so she could trip in her room, that’s what I remember.”
“What if it’s something more, though?” Atlas adds.
I have that instinctual feeling, too. I can’t speak it out loud, though. Something is keeping me from saying the words.
“Tomorrow,” I repeat, wanting to get back to our omega. “We’ll reconvene. And it’ll include her.”
We all nod in understanding. Atlas goes back to making the most elaborate fruit board I’ve ever seen while Ciro and I head back to the living room. Kendall is helping her drag blankets over the makeshift canopy of cushions when we walk back in. The nest she’s built is amazing considering how little time it took.
It makes me think about the empty room we have down the hall, and how much it could use her finishing touch. The last piece of home.
She’s right in front of us, but sometimes she feels so far away.
I push that thought aside as we all cuddle up in the blankets and turn on one of her favorite animated movies. Atlas finallyjoins us after a few minutes and the grin she wears is stunning. Her scent is relaxed, happy, and it soothes me.
One day, this will be a normal night for us. One day, we’ll be doing this and there won’t be anything to solve. I can feel it in my gut that she’s meant to be here with us, meant to complete us.
I just really hope that shewantsto.
THIRTY-THREE
Playing: Tell Me It’s Real by Seafret
The morningafter our sleepover in the couch fort is bittersweet. We all detached from the situation in order to have fun with our omega in her heightened state. She was jolly as she rambled on about fan theories of her favorite fandoms and asked us questions about our favorite shows and movies. And when she finally fell asleep in the crook of my arm, I felt like I was on the top of the world.
I really don’t want to fall off of it today.
I’m making everyone pancakes when Kendall pops his head into the kitchen. “She’s awake, At.” I acknowledge him with a nod before he disappears the way he came.
I anticipate a very uncomfortable conversation this morning. It’s a delicate situation, one that I’m sure none of us want to be in. My alpha calls for complete certainty when it comes to the pack’s safety, and that now includes Stacia. I’ll bear the weight of it this morning. I don’t mind being responsible for the tough decisions, as long as everyone ends up being more than okay in the end.
I finish up the last pancake and set it on the tray with a pitcher of orange juice. There’s also coffee if she wants some, but considering what I think she was on last night, she probably won’t touch it.
The tray is heavy in my arms as I walk into the living room and set it on the coffee table. Ciro is holding Stacia close to his side. Her normally sweet lavender and vanilla scent has soured from her anxiety.
When I look at her, the sight saddens me. Her eyes look heavy and difficult to keep open, dark circles lining them. She wipes at them before finally speaking.
“I…” She pauses, trying to force the words out, “I’m sorry about last night.” She gnaws at her bottom lip, avoiding all of our gazes.
Uriah opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “What exactly are you sorry about?”
She looks at me, sadness pouring from her. The shrug she gives me is weak. “For getting myself into that situation. For you guys having to save me.”
