Track 25 Sorry

Guilt is eating me alive.

I never should have said the things I did to Sorrel. Never should have given her an ultimatum or implied that she's only with the Cordova pack because of her childhood dream of being a famous singer.

I know her well enough to know that never even factored into her relationship with them, but when faced with the possibility of losing the love of my life to arguably the most famous pack in the world, I panicked and lashed out.

I have no idea what happened after Sorrel left me in that room, but whatever it was, wasn't good. How could it be when the interview where the Cordovas were going to announce her joining the pack never aired, and instead they took Hollis Grailess to the red carpet event they'd promised to take Sorrel to?

Some part of me thought that meant she'd chosen me, that the reality of facing a life without me in it was enough for her to give them up and choose me. But she never called, never reached out, never even texted a single word. It's been radio silence since then.

And now… this.

This farce of a ‘news' story.

Painting my girl as the villain. A conniving, money hungry wretch who used her body and her looks to get the Cordova pack to trust her, but her only interest in them is what they could do for her.

An anonymous source leaked the conversation between Sorrel and I where she apparently details how she's using them. Only I know for a fucking fact that conversation never happened. I click on the link and listen to the audio of Sorrel's voice, saying things she certainly never did.

Fucking AI bullshit, or statements stitched together from a conversation where the entire point isn't what they're reporting. It was actually the opposite.

I'd wanted to give her the time and space she needed to come to me. No matter what I said, she has to know she can come to me, that I'll always be there for her, be her safe space. But I can't wait. Not with all the hatred spewing toward her from trolls and assholes who have no fucking clue what she's actually like. That she goes out of her way for everyone, twists herself up to make sure no one else is uncomfortable or worries about her.

I don't want her to face this alone. Though I'm sure that Sadie and Sylvie are with her. Fuck. I hope they're with her. I hope she has some support.

But she's about to get more.

She hasn't been returning my check in texts or phone calls, so I'm on my way over to her cabin. I can't think of where else she might be or where she would go. Though I suppose she could be with Sadie or Sylvie at either of their pack houses.

I'll go to the city next if she isn't here, camp outside whichever compound she's in until she'll talk to me.

I have to make this right. I wanted to as soon as she left at that stupid interview. My alpha was roaring at me. I was letting our mate walk away from us. But I'm a stupid, stubborn asshole who had too much pride to call her back. I needed her to pick me. I felt sure that she would, eventually.

Oh, how a few days away from her can whittle my pride down to nothing. I'm ready to beg for her forgiveness, for another chance, for any scrap of her she'll give me.

Please. Please. Please.

The lights are off in her little cabin. Not even the front porch light is lit up, like it usually is, like it has been every time I've driven by her house since I got home. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, even as relief hits.

It has to mean that she's come home. That she's here.

Or it means that the bulb burned out, and she hasn't come home to replace it.

I park my motorcycle and climb off, pausing next to it to recite what I want to say to her, the speech I've been writing in my head since she stormed out of the green room at the interview. I'm not very good with words, so this takes some time. And during that time, I notice a few things.

First, Sorrel's bike isn't leaning against her porch like usual. Second, there's no movement or sign of life from inside the cabin. If she's home, she would have heard the engine of my bike. Under normal circumstances, she would have peeked through the window to verify that it was me. And third—and this really sends a chill down my spine—her door looks like it's cracked open.

I'm moving before I fully process it, storming up the steps, taking in the way the frame of the door is broken right near the lock and handle. "Sorrel!" I roar, slamming the door open and running into the small space. I don't know why I'm calling for her. Part of me already knows she's not here, or if she is, she can't respond to me.

I don't think too hard about why that might be.

I frantically search the small space, already knowing it's empty, but unable to stop myself. My harried gaze picks up pieces of the scene, the knocked over furniture, the broken glass, the back door standing wide open. Upstairs in her bedroom, the bed sheets are ripped from the mattress, her clothes are strewn around the room, and that damn purple unicorn Rafe won for her is split open, the stuffing pulled out and littering the space like some kind of macabre snow.

I take heaving gasps of air, unable to regulate my emotions or my breathing.

When I was running special ops for the army, I was always the calm one, the cool and collected one. I kept my head under fire and could always, always maintain a level head.

This lack of control in a crisis is new for me. Volatile.

But then, everything regarding Sorrel is too volatile for me, too much. Too possessive. Too protective. Too in love with her to see reason. Too selfish with her to share.

This isn't helping. Standing here, losing my goddamn mind, isn't helping.

It takes a while, but I slowly detach myself from my emotions, from this being Sorrel that's missing. I force my mind to think about this as just another operation. This isn't Sorrel's house. Those aren't her clothes. And that isn't her songbook ripped to shreds.

She's safe and sound, and I have a job to do.

Focus, Gage. Fucking Focus. What do you see? What do you smell?

I run my eyes over everything again, this time emotionally detached, the scene playing out in my head with some faceless woman as the victim. Not my Sorrel.

I take a deep breath and note that all the scents in the house are stale. A few hours old. Sorrel's lavender, Sylvie's honeyed nectarines, Sadie's cherry pie and a fourth that's barely detectable. It smells of chemicals. Like an air freshener. Whoever was here must have used scent dampeners and then used an imitation scent, just in case.

I frown when I realize that the three scents I recognize are older. Whoever was here lingered after she was out of the house. I look around the destruction again, seeing it with fresh eyes…

Maybe they did all of this after they took her, maybe…

I cut off the thought, my eyes landing on the stupid purple unicorn. It didn't need to be torn apart. I doubt whoever did this was looking for something. From what I can tell, nothing was stolen. The TV is still on the wall. Her guitar is propped against the bookshelf.

A glance out the window shows her recording studio outback is untouched.

That purple unicorn being disemboweled feels like a message, a warning.

So now I'm gonna go have a conversation with the people who gave it to her.

I storm into the Cordova pack house with my gun in my fucking hand like a lunatic. I know I shouldn't, that Rafe is just as likely to shoot me down as he is to disarm me, but I am beyond giving a fuck.

The three Cordovas blink as I stride right up to Grayson and slam the barrel of the gun against his forehead. I keep my finger off the trigger, but that doesn't mean I won't shoot the asshole if he's hurt Sorrel.

Rafe has his gun out and pointed at me in an instant. I don't even know where he got it from, and I don't fucking care. "Where is she?" I snarl at the alpha in front of me. "I swear to fuck if you fucking hurt her…" I let the threat linger as Liam's cheesecake scent turns acrid with fear. It takes everything in me to not immediately soothe him. My alpha screams at me to make it right, but I can't give in to instincts when Sorrel needs to be my focus.

"How the hell did you get in?" Rafe growls, but I ignore him. He's just the muscle. Grayson is the fucking brains and if they did something to Sorrel as retribution for a perceived slight, the plan came from him. I've done my research. As soon as I realized they were interested in my girl, I looked into every aspect of their lives and what I found was a bunch of shady deals and missing bodies.

Grayson's brother, Luca, might be a criminal and part of the Falcone pack, but Grayson's hands are just as dirty. Rafe's too.

"Where is she?" I repeat. Gray doesn't flinch, but Liam's scent is getting even more bitter, anxiety and fear flooding the space.

"We don't know where she is," the omega says frantically. "We've been trying to reach her. But we can't fucking find her to apologize for how we treated her. We want to make it right, but she's not answering."

His words ring of the truth and I'm inclined to believe him, but he's an actor. He could just be that convincing. I keep my gaze on Grayson, waiting for him to tell me the same. He nods slowly, his forehead pressing harder to the barrel of my gun as he does. "It's true. It became apparent someone manipulated us into believing the worst of her. We need to find her to apologize."

Rafe has lowered his gun, but he still has it in his hands. "Why did you think Sorrel was here?"

My jaw tightens and releases, making my teeth ache before I lower my gun, too. "You have a tendency to eviscerate your enemies," I say without tiptoeing around the matter. "The last woman who got close enough to break your hearts… you ruined her."

Liam stares at me, wide eyed. "Because she drugged Gray and tried to bond him against his fucking will. She pushed him into a rut using illegal omega pheromones and then begged for him to claim her. She deserved whatever they did to her."

I arch a brow at him. "What did Sorrel deserve? Did she deserve for you to abandon her at the first sign that she might not be the shining girl up on the pedestal you thought she was? Did she deserve to have you rub Hollis Grailess in her fucking face?"

Liam's gaze drops, and he gives a quick shake of his head. "No, she didn't deserve any of that."

"Yeah, she fucking didn't." I agree. Then I sigh, rubbing the gun on the side of my head. "Something's wrong," I tell them, because they deserve to know and I'm going to need help to find Sorrel.

All three of them stiffen. "What do you mean?" Rafe asks, his voice a growl, gaze sharp.

Tucking my gun into its holster at the base of my spine, I say, "I went to her house, and it was… torn apart. Glass broken and furniture knocked over." My hands fist at the memory, fear climbing up my throat that I need to shut down quick, because fear is the fastest way for Sorrel to get hurt. If I let it overwhelm me, I'll be fucking useless. "The lock on the door was broken, like someone kicked it in."

Gray's brows climb his forehead. "And you thought we did something to her?"

I shrug. "Wouldn't be the first time, huh?"

His nostrils flare as his eyes narrow on me, but he doesn't deny it. Instead, he looks over at Rafe. "Someone has our girl." My heart clenches at the easy way he claims her.

" My girl, " I snarl back in response.

Liam scowls at me. "She's all of ours! Jesus. Can we please just focus on what's important and work out the pack dynamics later? Sorrel needs us. Right fucking now. " He looks at Rafe. "Has there been any threats against her?"

"Before all this bullshit?" The head of security tucks his gun away as well and shakes his head. "Nothing that seemed out of the ordinary."

"I'm sorry. Out of the ordinary?" I growl.

Gray shrugs, moving to the dining room to grab his laptop and bringing it over to where we're all standing. "It's part of being in our pack. Liam has a lot of fans who are… well, fanatics, and that means they feel they have a right to his time and his affections. If they see someone infringing on those rights-"

"Like a new beta in the pack," Rafe cuts in.

"They tend to be a little overprotective."

"A little overprotective?" I nearly bellow. "How is kidnapping Sorrel a little overprotective?"

Rafe shakes his head as Liam ducks his chin. "I don't think this is because of Liam," Rafe reassures both him and me. "I told you we analyzed the threats against Sorrel and none of them were truly cause for concern. We issued a few restraining orders, but there was nothing that leaned toward violence."

"Was that before or after you publicly shunned her?" I ask through gritted teeth. "Someone leaked what you said to her, Grayson. Someone could be mad enough at her and twisted enough to think they'd be doing you a favor by getting rid of her."

All three of them pale. "Shit," Liam whimpers, swaying on his feet and reaching out to catch himself. "It's our fault." He runs a trembling hand over his face, and it's like with the motion all his fear and guilt washes away, replaced with anger. Anger at his own prime alpha. He rounds on Gray, green eyes narrowed. "I told you she wouldn't do something like this to us. I told you she was legit, that she cared about us. This isn't our fucking fault, it's yours! You're the one who unilaterally decided that she was a lying, manipulative bitch we needed to cut ties with!"

"Liam," Rafe warns. "Don't say something you don't mean, mi amor ."

Liam rounds on him, nostril flaring, scent spiking to show his rage. "And you're just as bad, rushing me out of there without giving me a chance to talk to her, giving her a chance to explain! She should be here with us right fucking now, safe and sound and not out there with some psycho fan who wants to hurt her because of us! Because of me. "

His voice cracks on the last word and his face crumbles. "If she dies or is hurt, I will never forgive either of you."

"Liam," Gray says, his own voice suspiciously tight, his expression full of devastation, reaching for his omega to comfort him. I have the urge to do the same, but Liam isn't my omega, so I keep my hands fisted at my sides.

Liam smacks his hand away with a snarl and does the same when Rafe reaches for him as well. Instead, he darts round both of them and comes to me. Pressing into my side, his face against my chest. I freeze for half a second before alpha instinct takes over and my arms wrap around him, a low purr rumbles out of me. Surprising as hell, but then I've never spent much time with omegas.

The other two alphas watch as I comfort their omega, jaws tight and hurt clear in their gazes. I ignore it. Everything Liam said to them was the truth, but I'm also not innocent.

If I'd reached out to her sooner, figured out where she was, stalked her to make her listen to me, then I would have been with her when she was attacked. I could have prevented it.

I run my hands up and down Liam's back in soothing strokes until he's calmed down. He takes a deep breath, inhaling my scent and then blowing it out in a rush. "I'm sorry," he murmurs before pulling back. At first I think he's apologizing to me for hugging me, but then he glances at Rafe and Gray. "I'm sorry. Losing my temper will not help her. It isn't going to help us find her." He stays close to my side as he looks up at the other two alphas. "What do we do?"

"Fuck," Rafe says, wiping a hand down his face and removing the signs of devastation on his face at the same time. Re-centering himself. Focusing on the problem. "I really fucking wish I'd put some kind of security system in place on her cabin."

My brows arch. "You didn't? I swear I saw pinhole cameras set up around her place. I assumed it was you from before you tossed her aside."

"Watch yourself," Gray growls. "You accused her of only being with us to further her career and for the money. It's essentially the same fucking thing."

My stomach tightens with guilt.

"Can we focus, please?" Liam hisses, moving away from me to slap his hand on the counter. "If the cameras weren't ours, then who the hell do they belong to?"

As if in answer, my phone rings. I frown at the number on the screen, having no clue why the hell he would call me. I'm tempted to let it go to voicemail. Now is really not the time. I have more important things to do—like finding my girl—than to chat with Swift Falcone. But a niggling at the back of my head has me answering.

"Swift," I say, as I wave away the curious looks from the men around me. "Little busy right now."

"Yeah, no shit." The other alpha sounds pissed off and feral. "Ethan got a motion detection ping on the security system at Sorrel's house. We saw what happened."

Rage crawls over my scalp, making my hair prickle. "You saw, and you did nothing about it?"

Rafe waves his hands at me, motioning for me to put it on speaker. Gritting my teeth, I do. "We were a little busy trying to find our own fucking omega."

"What?" Gray growls out.

"Oh, good. The sanctimonious fuckface is listening in."

There's a shuffle on the other side and a new voice comes over the line. "It was a three-pronged attack," Maddox says. "Sadie, Sylvie and Sorrel were all taken."

I almost pass out. That's how quickly my blood drains from my head. All three of them were taken. The omegas of two of the most powerful packs in the state, maybe even the country, and Sorrel, have been kidnapped. Whoever it was must be pretty damn sure that they won't be found or discovered.

Or they're sure they can stand up to the full on war that is heading their way.

A war that Sorrel will be in the middle of. My girl. My mate.

"Look," Maddox says. "We know who it is, and we have a way to find them. Get your asses to our pack house and we can make plans to get our girls back."

Get Sorrel back. Yes. That's what I need to do.

Get her back and never leave her side again.

"On our way."