Page 242 of Awakened

I’m so busy trying not to jump-scare myself by accident as I search for the garment in question that I almost miss the piece of paper lying face up and open on top of her nightstand.

In all honesty, I do miss it the first two times. Thankfully, on the third sweep of the room, the bright red and purple glittery gel ink that spells out ‘BASTARDS’ in meticulously penned three-inch block letters grabs my attention.

“Damn… normally I’d say the blinking neon sign to get my attention is unnecessary, but in all fairness…”

I pick up the thick sheath of paper—the rest of which is written in normal, black ink—and read through it. My heart stalls, then kicks back into gear and starts racing as I read through it one more time.

All the blood drains from my face.

Shit.

To whoever went nosing around my stuff first (my coin is on Vae. You really are a nosey sod)—

Idril and I have been called away. No, I don’t know how long we will be gone. We’ll be back when we’re back. Don’t bother charging after us. You already tried that, and the fire told you ‘no.’ It won’t go away until you accept the fact that you can’t follow. Please be a dear and accept it quickly. I’m sure Shade would like to leave the forest at some point.

I wouldn’t give you more information even if I had any. This isn’t that kind of letter. Some doors only open to those they choose. Try not to take it personally.

I’m sure Idril sends her love to her Mates.

Do try to be productive while we’re gone. If she returns only to discover you all burnt down the castle or worse—wasted everyone’s time sitting around stewing in your own misery and bemoaning all the ways life is unfair, well…

I shouldn’t have to tell you how bad that would look, but for the sake of full disclosure (and because you’re all, well, you), here’s some advice.

Go. Do things. Take initiative. I can’t begin to tell you how disappointing and totally not-hot it would be if Idril came back from doing Very Important Things to find a sulking group of incompetent, whinging twats.

-Branwen

By the fourth re-read, reality finally sinks in. Prize in hand, I leave and hurry back to my Pack. I’m not sure how they’re going to take the news—especially the fact that Branwen apparently knew something was going to happen and kept it to herself—but at least we know Idril’s alright.

When I open the door to the sitting room, four pairs of eyes snap to me, full of worry and hope. Wordlessly, I cross the room and extend my hand with the note to Caelan.

He snatches it, eyes skimming over the words so fast I’m concerned he’s not actually taking anything in. When he finishes, his shoulders slump, and he presses the paper into Soren’s waiting hands with a snarl.

“That’s it?” Soren snaps once he’s finished. “They were ‘called away?’ Called away to what? And by whom?”

“What does it say?” Riven asks, calmly sipping his drink. He’s the only one of us not on edge, and right now I envy his uncomplicated love-less existence.

Knowing he won’t get an answer from Broody McBrooderson and his asshole sidekick, I do my best to explain.

“Essentially, it says she and Idril have something they have to do. They don’t know how long it will take, and they’ll be back when they’re back.”

I pause, then add, “Oh, and apparently I’m a nosey sod, and she suggests that while they’re gone we don’t, and I quote, ‘sit around on our lazy asses sulking like a bunch of…’”

I frown, struggling to remember the exact wording.

“Pathetic, whinging twats,” Caelan finishes for me, tone flat and unamused.

Riven, having just taken another sip of whiskey, swallows before choking out a bark of surprised laughter.

“That Omega,” he smirks, shaking his head ruefully. “She’s definitely something else.”

Daxen tosses the note on top of the coffee table and stands, running a hand down his tired face. “She’s a fucking menace is what she is.” Then, almost absently, he murmurs, “Thank the Fates Idril didn’t have the same attitude when she first arrived.”

I suck in a sharp breath and freeze. Less than a second later, Dax registers his own words and goes completely still.

My eyes flick toward Caelan, and any hope I may have had that he didn’t hear that is crushed when I note the look of pure, unadulterated fury on his face.

No one speaks. No one has to. It feels like the world itself has stopped and is waiting to see how this plays out.