Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chloe

I huddle in my suite until hunger drives me to shuffle out in search of food.

My entire body aches from a sleepless night, and when I pass a mirror in the hallway, it reflects back puffy eyes and a messy pair of braids drooping around my shoulders.

I clutch my lucky shamrock necklace, hoping my delay in leaving my room means I won't run into Blake or Dominic staking out the foyer, ready to pounce on me to talk.

My anxiety peaks, my heart pounding hard enough to leave me lightheaded. My legs tremble and I wipe my sweaty palms on the front of my unicorn onesie. I had donned it like armor, but it doesn't bring the usual comfort.

At the foot of the staircase, I peer into the dining room and sway with relief that no one sits at the table. I glance around, searching for any sign of an ambush, but Dominic and Blake either gave up or chose to give me space.

With a quick peek up to the second story to make sure they're not hiding up there, I dart across the base, then past the long table, empty of food. I focus on the swinging door to the kitchen, where the scent of coffee and muffins drift out.

I pause outside to knock, not wanting to surprise Holden and risk a collision.

The door flies open, and Holden stands on the other side.

Red rims his eyes, and his curls stick up in disarray. He appears as tired as I feel, and I wonder if he even went to bed last night. A white apron protects jeans and a sweater with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, while a smudge of flour covers one cheek.

Concern fills his gaze as he takes in my appearance before opening his arms.

I fling myself into his embrace, needing his vanilla cake sweetness to settle my frayed nerves.

Lips press against the top of my head. "You look exhausted. Did you sleep at all?"

I shake my head. I made an attempt, but my thoughts wouldn't be quiet, fixating on any alternative that allowed me to keep Holden, and maybe Blake, depending on his reasons.

But despite hours of spiraling, there seems to be only one choice.

"Listen, Holden…" My voice catches, and I step back from his comforting embrace. As long as he's touching me, I won't want to leave. "I think, for the best of everyone involved, I should cut my stay here short and?—"

A finger on my lips stops me. "Don't decide anything yet. You need to eat and have some caffeine. No good life choices are made on an empty stomach."

Before I can protest, he leads me over to the kitchen island and deposits me onto one of the stools.

He bustles away to open a cupboard and lifts down a mug. "Coffee or tea?"

"Coffee." I peer down the long counter, where dozens of muffins sit on cooling racks.

Holden's been stress-baking, and a pang goes through me, knowing that I'm the cause.

He grabs a carton from the fridge. "Do you take sugar?"

"No, thank you."

He brings me the steaming cup, leaving the creamer beside it.

As I add enough cream to turn the liquid pale brown, he fetches a plate and bustles over to the assortment of muffins. "What would you like? I have blueberry streusel, cinnamon crunch, almond poppyseed, chocolate chocolate-chip, orange cranberry?—"

"That one," I cut in. "Orange cranberry is my favorite."

The admission earns me a relieved smile, and he picks the biggest one from the wire rack, bringing it to me before he hustles back to the mixing bowls on the counter.

I admire the crisp dome on top and inhale what can only be freshly zested fruit. It's probably the most delicious muffin in the world, but I'm not sure I can force it down around the knot in my stomach.

Holden busies himself with wiping up flour, giving me space while the weight of his attention presses down on me.

I pick at my muffin, tearing off small pieces and turning them into crumbs between my fingers. Heavy silence settles over the room. We need to talk, but Holden doesn't want to listen any more than I want to speak.

During the long hours of the morning, I had come to the conclusion that, as much as Blake's actions hurt me, I also kept secrets that would affect a courting. Even before Dominic appeared, I had not been open about my own situation.

Everything just moved so fast, and the excitement of being around Alphas that filled me with the tingles of a bond made me throw caution to the wind. It wasn't fair to either Holden or Blake, and no matter Blake's motivations, I need to clear the air.

Continuing to drag this out will only cause more pain in the end.

Unable to eat, I push my plate away. "Holden, there's something you should know."

Worry flashes across his face, which only adds to my anxiety. He sits next to me, close enough for our knees to brush against each other, and a wave of sad frustration crashes over me. Every instinct pushes me to offer the reassurance he wants, but that's what got us into this pickle to begin with.

Tentatively, he reaches out to cover my hand with his on the countertop. "You can tell me anything."

With a deep breath, I muster my courage. "My publisher offered me a deal to write a trilogy that will continue my current series. The advance is… substantial."

Holden's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his freckled cheeks flushed with confusion. "That's amazing, Chloe." He hesitates, searching for the right words. "But…is this what you want?"

I shake my head, my braids slipping over my shoulders. "No, not really. The plan was to start something new, but the offer is a lot."

Holden nibbles on his bottom lip as he searches my face. "Do you… Are you worried about money?"

"It's complicated." I pull my hand from beneath his to wrap my fingers around my coffee cup, seeking comfort in its warmth. "If I continue living my life as it is now, then I don't need the advance. But if I want to change, if I want to be courted , then I do."

Holden reaches out and brushes a stray strand of pink hair behind my ear, his touch tender. "I don't understand. Why does your income matter for courting? We wouldn't demand a dowery or anything like that. And if you're worried that we can't afford a fifth family member, that's not a problem."

His reassurance only tightens the knot in my stomach. My heart beats faster, the sound echoing in my ears like a drumbeat of dread.

"It's not just an issue for your pack." I draw in a shaky breath. "It's about any pack wanting to court me."

At the suggestion of me being courted by anyone else, Holden's face contorts with rejection.

Before he can make some sort of declaration, I press on. "When we were kicked out of the Sinclair pack, my mother refused to work or change her spending habits. She kept me in the fancy school and continued to show up at social events, dressed to the nines. With no money coming in, the debt quickly grew out of control."

I avoid looking at Holden. "After the credit card companies canceled her cards, she turned to less savory methods to maintain her lifestyle. Creditors were always pounding down the door. It got to the point that she was risking jail, or worse."

I shudder as I remember arriving home to find my mom being threatened by a loan shark. He had smacked her around, and the bruises hadn't faded for almost a month.

"Then she found a benefactor who agreed to pay off her debts, but it came with stipulations." Tears sting my eyes despite all the crying I've already done. "My first book advance went toward paying down the loan, and I've kept it up ever since. But she keeps living beyond her means, ensuring that the debt will never go away."

Holden's expression shifts from confusion to horror as he struggles to comprehend the gravity of my situation. I can see the gears working, trying to figure out how he can fix this for me, but it's not his problem to solve.

"If I sign on for the trilogy, it would wipe the slate clean, but…"

"She'd just take out more loans." His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip. "I hate to say it, but if your mom refuses to change, you may have to cut her off. Facing the consequences of her actions might be the only option."

"Yeah, I've considered that." I prop my elbows on the counter and hang my head. "Honestly, I've thought about it more than once. She's never been a real mother to me, but she's the only family I have."

"Do you know who your biological father is?" he asks gently. "Could he step in?"

"She's never said except that it's not one of the Sinclairs." Shame sweeps through me, even though I had nothing to do with the actions my mom took before I was born. "I'm not even sure she knows, though she probably has some guesses."

"You could apply for a DNA match," he suggests. "If he belongs to a registered pack, then he'll be in the system."

All Alphas who want to court an Omega register and go through screening to ensure there are no genetic issues that would endanger future offspring.

It's been known to happen in the past, when offshoots lose contact with their lineage packs, or when brand new ones form, like with Holden's packmates, where the bond drew from multiple bloodlines. The last thing anyone wants is to discover too late that a courted Omega is too close on the family tree.

The test results aren't open to the public, though, so if I want to find my biological sire, I'd have to apply for the knowledge, and the company would inform him I was searching.

What if he ends up complicating my life even more ? He knocked up Vivian Sinclair, after all, when she was the mate of one of the most powerful packs on the continent.

It takes extreme confidence or stupidity to take that risk, and based on my mother's bad luck with gambling, I'm not willing to open that door. "I don't want to know the man who abandoned me to the mercy of the Sinclairs."

Holden nods in understanding, but then his brow furrows. "I still don't understand what this has to do with a pack courting you. If you're afraid we'll be threatened, Nathaniel and Dominic come from powerful families. They won't be intimidated."

If only it were that simple.

Nerves kick in, and I wipe my hands on the soft material covering my legs. I've never tried to talk to anyone about Louie before. When my mother first signed the paperwork that linked my fate to his, he made it clear that any attempt to go to the police would result in my mother's suffering and all the freedom he's allowed while I pay down the debt will vanish.

As long as I stay quiet and keep depositing money, though, he leaves me alone.

I turn my head to search Holden's face. My instincts say I can trust him, but what if he tries to fix this for me? Holden may think his packmates are protected, but what if Louie threatens their families?

Dominic's could withstand it, but I don't know who Nathaniel's and Blake's people are, and the thought of Holden's sweet family being hurt makes me sick.

Worry pinches Holden's face, and he takes my trembling hand. "It's okay. You can tell me anything. It won't change how I feel about you."

My lips part, but before I can speak, the front door slams open, and Blake's voice booms through the foyer. "Holden!"

Holden and I freeze, staring at each other with alarm.

Shouldn't Blake be down at the construction site? What's he doing back so early? It's not even lunchtime.

"Holden!" Blake's shout echoes through the dining room, coming closer.

He turns toward the door, raising his voice. "I'm in the kitchen."

"Come out here, I need you!" His words slice through the air, this time sharp with some emotion I don't recognize. "Dominic! Can you come down here?"

Is that panic? Dread coils in my gut. What's happened now?

When Holden slides off the stool, I move to follow.

He catches my hand. "If you still don't want to talk to him, I can go alone."

"No." I squeeze his fingers. "I've done enough hiding."

Together, we walk to the door and slip into the dining room.

Blake paces in front of the long table, his heightened emotions filling the air with smoked applewood and cider, despite the cool breeze that sweeps through the open door.

My nose twitches, catching the scorched undercurrent to his pheromones, and my pulse quickens with uncertainty. My instincts are giving me conflicting signals, and I freeze with several steps still between us.

Nathaniel walks inside from the porch, a worried frown twisting his handsome features that he directs toward Blake. He sets the box from my fans down on the table.

Footsteps thump on the stairs, and Dominic hurries down, dressed for the day in a pair of charcoal slacks and a fitted black shirt. Once more, he wears his hair braided on top.

Steel gray eyes catch on me before he focuses on Blake. "What's wrong?"

"My sister overdosed again." Blake clutches a cell phone in his hand. "She's been taken to the hospital."

"Okay, I'll try to reach your father's secretary." Dominic whips out his phone. "Do you know which hospital they took her to this time?"

Blake shakes his head. "Start with the usual suspects."

Concern fills me. Holden had said Blake's sister was troubled, and with the lack of panic in the room, this is obviously something they've been through a few times.

"What about Quinn?" Holden's hand tightens in a death grip on mine. "Is Mrs. Reynolds with her? Should I prep her room?"

"She's missing." Blake runs a hand down his face. "Mrs. Reynolds lost sight of her while the paramedics were there dealing with Sadie."

"Oh, no." My heart clenches with a familiar panic. "She's probably gone to somewhere she feels safe. Mrs. Reynolds should check?—"

Blake holds up a hand to cut me off. "I'm sorry, Chloe, but we've been through this before, and we know better how to handle it. This is a family matter. Can you please leave?"

The rejection slices through me like a knife, but I nod and tug my hand from Holden's grasp. "Sure, no problem."

If I needed any clearer sign that this pack will never be mine, I just received it.