Page 2 of What We Don't Say: Part Two

Dr. Mercer stands, smoothing one hand down the front of her jacket. She’s a Beta, shorter than all three Alphas in the room, but her voice doesn’t bend for any of them. “Theo’s heat response interrupted abruptly. I was called to assess him.”

Garrett’s gaze moves to Idris. “You called a Bellwether physician without consulting the head Alpha?”

“Theo’s temperature dropped, his pulse spiked, and his heat collapsed while he was calling for Calliope,” Idris says. His voice has no softness in it at all. “I consulted the doctor.”

Garrett steps into the room. I pull the blanket higher without meaning to, and Sloane sees it. His whole body shifts, but Idris’ hand lifts once, a silent hold. Sloane doesn’t move closer to Garrett. He looks like staying still is costing him blood.

“Theo is overwhelmed,” Garrett says. “This household has been under considerable strain today. I’m sure Dr. Mercer understands that heat cycles, especially early ones, can be volatile when an Omega is exposed to inconsistent emotional cues.”

My throat gets tight. “I asked for Callie.”

Garrett’s eyes come to me, and the room seems to narrow. “I know you did. You’ve had a difficult day.”

“I called her,” I say. I have to make myself keep looking at him. My voice softens until I can barely hear it, but the words are still words. “She didn’t answer.”

Sloane’s hand drops to his phone. “I’m calling her again.”

“She asked for time,” Garrett says.

Sloane goes still.

Idris turns his head slowly. “What did you say?”

Garrett’s phone disappears into his coat pocket. “She sent a message. She needs more time, and she asked everyone to focus on Theo. That’s the sensible choice right now, whether or not it’s the emotionally gratifying one.”

Sloane laughs once. It isn’t humor. It’s a broken, dangerous sound that makes Dr. Mercer look sharply at my monitor. “Callie doesn’t send you messages instead of me.”

“She may have assumed you’d react exactly like this,” Garrett says. “And considering Theo’s current condition, she wasn’t wrong to worry.”

Idris takes one step toward him. The room bends around it. He doesn’t raise his voice, but every part of him becomes colder. “Tell me what happened on campus.”

“I handled a developing situation.”

“No.” Idris’ hand leaves the chair. “You went to help Calliope. You came back without Calliope. Now her calls don’t connect, Theo’s heat has crashed, Sloane’s bond is closed, and you’re standing here telling us she chose to disappear through you. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Dr. Mercer reaches for the monitor as the beeping speeds up. I know it’s me making it do that. My heart is trying to climb out of my chest. The Alphas are too much, all of them, even Idris, even Sloane, even the ones I want. Their scents press against the walls until the whole room feels smaller than my lungs.

Sloane hears the monitor and turns toward me. His face changes, grief cutting through the rage so sharply I almost sob. He starts for the nest, but Garrett moves at the same time, too smooth, too certain, like he thinks his body belongs between all of us.

“Don’t,” I whisper.

Garrett stops.

So does everyone else.

Garrett’s eyes settle on me, and the pressure of him touches the room like a hand at the back of my neck.

“Theo,” Garrett says, with that careful warmth that used to make me feel chosen before I understood it could also make me small. “No one is upset with you. You need rest, not more conflict.”

“I d-don’t want you close.” The stutter catches at the start, embarrassing and hot in my throat, but I make myself finish. “Please don’t come closer.”

Sloane moves toward me. He drops to his knees beside the nest like his body has been waiting for permission to fall. His hands hover at first, big and shaking, until I lean forward enough for him to know he can touch me. Then he cups the sides of my face and presses his forehead to mine.

“I’m sorry,” he says. His voice is ruined. “I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart.”

“She didn’t answer me.” I hate how young I sound. I hate that Dr. Mercer is watching, and Idris is holding the room together with his teeth clenched, and Garrett is standing there with his coat still on like he hasn’t brought winter into the sunroom. “I called her and she didn’t answer. Did she leave because of me?”

Sloane makes a sound that breaks something open in my chest. His thumbs stroke once under my eyes, catching tears I didn’t realize had fallen. “No. Callie didn’t leave because of you. I don’t believe that for one second.”