Page 63 of Traded

I stare exaggeratedly—a little intoxicated-ly—around my kitchen. No sign of any alphas, scent-matched or otherwise. Slamming the door, I tap my nails against the counter.

They could be at the rink. Completely possible.

But it’s nearly eight.

And there’s no sign of Lauren either.

My fingers creep toward my phone.

***

“Alphas, where art thou?”

I fling my arm toward the ceiling. Which appears to be moving. My drawn in breath is interrupted by a painful hiccup. I close one eye, but the movement only gets worse. I slap a hand over my eyes.

“Methinks—hic—thou art a general offense.” I scowl up at it. “And every alpha should beat thee.”

My arms flop out on either side of me. This is surprisingly comfortable. My hand floats around, searching for my phone, before I remember I dropped it after the phone call.

The third, or the eighth. I squint. I don’t seem to recall.

Where’s my wine?

“Ro?” A face appears over mine. “What are you doing?”

I glare at it. "Quit my sight! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold.”

Silence follows my declaration.

“Is she alright?”

The whisper makes me try to sit up, but the whole room turns upside down. I decide it’s safer to stay where I am.

“She went through a Shakespeare phase,” someone says dryly. It sounds a lot like one of my feckless, abandoning,desertingalphas. My eyes start to prickle. “She likes to quote it sometimes.”

“After too much wine.” Another face appears with eyes like a storm-filled sky. Liam looks annoyed. “What the hell, Rosie?”

I poke him in the eye. “Thou hast no speculation in those eyes, which thou dost glare at your omega with.Asshole."

Lauren clears her throat. “I mean… that’s a pretty impressive skill.”

“Thankyou.” I swing my finger in her general direction. “I’m glad someone in this pack appreciates my talents.”

“Come on, Romeo.” Carter grabs my arms and tugs me upright. He tries to look in my eyes, but I hiccup at him. “I don’t think the wine was the best idea with a head injury. Why are you lying on top of our kitchen island?”

I vaguely recall a dramatic thought about sacrifice and empty tables, but I can’t quite define it now. “Where were you?”

I should have stuck with Shakespeare. That sounded pitiful. “I tried to call you.”

Even smaller. And now there are tears. I try to swallow them back.

“We took Lauren out for dinner,” Liam says shortly.

Swiping my eyes, I try to focus on them. Carter pushes a glass of water into my hands. “Drink this for me.”

I down it in one. It helps a little. I take in Liam’s gunmetal gray shirt collar. The dark overcoat I bought him for Christmas last year. The watch he only wears on special occasions. Jonas shifts closer to Lauren, tugging on the lapel of his camel jacket.

All of them are dressed up, except for Carter. I swing my gaze to Carter. He’s frowning at Liam. “You said you’d told her.”