I shake my head. “Nothing. My health is my business and no one else’s.” There’s a thud from the other side of the door, loud enough to make me jump.
“Interesting.” Now she leans forward, a predator going in for the kill, and I know… I just know what she’s going to say. “Don’t you think it’s the business of the Ashbourne pack too?”
“No.” My heart thunders in my chest, so loud I can barely hear her.
“Don’t you think they deserve to know-”
“Please don’t.” My chest goes tight, my shirt feeling suddenly restrictive.
“-that you’re their fated mate-”
“Stop.” I push to my feet intending to leave, but instead I sway and stumble, barely catching myself on the arm of the chair.
“-and that their public rejection of you-”
“I said stop!” My voice cracks on the last word, a sob breaking through.
“-left you with Rejected Mate Disorder?”
And there it is. Out there for the whole world to see, to know.
For the Ashbourne pack to know.
She stares up at me, willing me to answer. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Just a harsh panting breath. My vision blurs again.
Another loud thud. The sound of wood breaking.
I take one shaky step away from her, away from the cameras. Black swells at the corners of my eyes, and then I’m falling.
Episode 10: Into the Woods
Courtland
We’re moving as soon as the interview takes a turn. As soon as Heather fucking Howle turns her predatory smile on our girl and we just know that whatever comes next we aren’t going to like. That Pixie is going to like it even less.
The interview continues playing on my phone as Forsythe calls for our private jet, barking at them to be ready to be in the air in thirty minutes.
“What the bloody fuck?” I mutter, watching as Florence pushes to her feet, the panic on her face is clear, her words pleading as Heather speaks over her.
“Don’t you think they deserve to know that you’re their fated mate and that their public rejection of you left you with Rejected Mate Disorder?”
Fuck.
There it is out there for the world to know.
Our personal business. Pixie’s medical information.
Ren sways, her eyes roll, and then she drops. Right there on the screen, she faints dead away and my entire body goes cold. No one even tries to stop her descent. They just let her fall. And I vow right then and there to rip apart the entire production crew, to ruin every PA, camera operator, producer and Heather Howle. None of them will work again.
The cameras keep rolling as a huge alpha with dark skin wearing an impeccable suit, stalks into frame and scoops my omega into his arms, snarling at everyone in the room as he does. My own alpha snarls in my chest.
Who the fuck is that, and why is he picking up Ren like he has a right to? Why is he cradling her like she’s precious as he carries her out of the room, the camera swiveling to follow them. Why is his head dipping toward hers as they move out of frame?
My mobile cracks in my grip, and I want to crawl through that fracture and into the screen to demand answers. No… not demand, tobeatthe answers out of him.
But, alas, that's not possible at the moment. I’ll just have to wait until we’re face to face.
I stalk into my room, throw clothing into my bags willy-nilly and within moments, have it slung over my shoulder, heading toward the front door. Grieves is already there, glaring at everything in sight, and I can’t blame him. I’m feeling the same.