10
Problematic
Isobel leaned against the tiled wall of Theodore’s shower, completely exhausted. The Alphas had called a group meeting to go over every detail of the “Ironside Employee” with the divination ability, who had foreseen “a terrorist attack” on Ironside. The details had been twisted as much as possible to make sure the story couldn’t be skimmed over.
Cian and Theodore had made it sound like they had been in the chapel with her, the three of them “praying for the officials to find her mate in good health” when two Ironside employees stumbled in, and the situation escalated from there.
The level of performance needed for the entire conversation had drained her.
She washed her hair and scrubbed her skin, wishing for the first time in years that her father hadn’t organised for her body hair to be lasered off. He had been getting annoyed at how much her morning shower routine was cutting into her rigid schedule, but now she wished she had something else to do, something to take up more of her time before she had to drag herself out again to deal with yet another attack that may or may not even happen.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t taking it seriously, but there was some sort of block in her mind, her thoughts recoiling whenever she tried to acknowledge the possibility of what Luis had seen.
There was a horrible, dark place inside her that whispered, You won’t survive a third time.
Gabriel closed the door to his room with a silent snick, pulling off his shirt and dropping it into the laundry hamper as he walked into his bathroom. They were all having showers before reconvening for “movie night.” He was pretty sure they all just wanted to sleep, but it was hard to go their separate ways. Isobel had been slipping them little hints of her own pain all day, and she didn’t even realise she was doing it. She should have been completely settled after last night, but something was off, and he couldn’t figure out what it was.
He had watched her most of the day. Whenever she touched her stomach, that confused dip weighing down her brow, that was when he felt it. The little twinge of pain. Elijah had felt it, too, and he knew from the shift in everyone’s scents over dinner that they had also felt something.
Whatever it was, he knew they all wanted to keep an eye on her.
Maybe it was that infernal chain hooked into her skin, or maybe it was a brand-new layer of hell in the form of a new side effect they had yet to encounter. Whatever it was, she was one of them now, and they would deal with it together.
Well … that and nobody wanted to leave her alone with Theodore.
He turned on the water and stripped off the rest of his clothes, setting his phone beside the sink. After folding a fresh set of clothes onto the bathroom bench, he stepped beneath the spray. He had just ducked his head beneath the warm water when the world around him tipped off its axis. He stumbled into the wall, shooting out a hand to steady himself as his vision blurred.
Suddenly, he wasn’t staring down at his shower.
He was staring at a similar shower floor, the small blue tiles glittering with the shower spray as small, pale feet paced back and forth.
He could feel everything.
Her frustration, her fear, and the giant block of trauma that hovered over her head, threatening to crush her if her mind twisted down the wrong path. She walked from one side of the shower to the other, muttering low to herself.
“You can handle this. You can do this. You’ve dealt with worse. Nothing has even happened yet. Get a hold of yourself.”
She felt alone.
Didn’t she realise nobody would ever hurt her again?
They couldn’t control every variable in the known world, but the girl had ten half-bonded mates. It was as close as she could get to complete and utter protection.
Except they had already failed once, hadn’t they?
She sank onto the tiled ledge, her head tipping back to stare at the water pouring down from the giant rainfall shower head.
“Think of literally anything else,” she instructed herself strictly.
Gabriel contained a smirk, leaning heavily against the wall—since the sensation of being inside two bodies was so disorientating. He hadn’t pegged her for a person who talked to herself, but maybe it was the stress getting to her.
She suddenly looked down, and he froze, getting an eyeful of nipples the exact same shade as her soft lips, and long, pale legs stretching out to catch the spray of water.
Shit. He managed to push away from the wall, feeling his way out of the shower and cringing at the water that sluiced all over the floor as he felt for his phone.
He made it back to the bench, probably drenching his phone as he tried to focus on the screen. Isobel’s tired sigh travelled through him, and he fought off a pounding headache as he focussed just long enough to navigate into a secure message screen.
He snapped straight back into her head as soon as he stopped fighting it, watching as she rested her hands against her thighs, rubbing up and down in an attempt to calm herself. It took several rounds of deep breathing to fight off the sick feeling that threatened to make him black out from his brief rebellion against the side effect.
The bond did not fuck around, apparently. He would have to make note of that later.
Gabriel raised his phone to his mouth, knowing intuitively where the text-to-speech button was.
“I’m in your head.”
She looked up when she heard her phone, leaning out of the shower to snatch it off the counter.
Hidden member: Preview unavailable.
She tapped on the message.
Unknown: I’m in your head.
She swore softly, clicking on the “unknown” contact. It gave her the standard error when secured messaging was turned on.
This feature is currently hidden.
Her fingers flew over the screen. Isobel: Who is this?
“You have ten guesses.” He spoke the message, hearing her slight chuckle as it popped up on her screen.
She started typing again, before stopping, fixing her gaze to the wall. “Why am I typing?” She shook her head, another tired sigh slipping out. “Will you text me when you’re out of my head, please?”
“Yes.” He kept his finger on the button, pausing. “Are you okay?”
“I just want to think about something other than death or disaster for a second,” she huffed out. “Is this a professor?”
“No.”
“Are you telling the truth?”
“Yes.”
She waited, before whispering, “Then why? Is it—”
“Isobel.” He sent the message, cutting her off as she glanced at her screen.
He swallowed. She didn’t realise she had dropped the hand holding her phone, and he got another goddamn eyeful as she glanced down at her screen.
He couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t block her out.
“Call Isobel,” he grumbled, raising his phone to his ear.
“Gabe-Gabriel?” She saw his name flash across her screen before she answered.
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, fixing her eyes back to the wall after she clicked the speakerphone button and set the phone onto a small shelf behind her head—probably so that she wouldn’t keep accidentally looking down at her lap. “I’m … sorry—”
Why was her pussy completely shaved? Must have been a rich girl thing, because he highly doubted it was to keep herself tidy for a sexual partner. He had never even met a more obvious virgin.