082 | TWENTY-THREE

Enzo’s POV

Medic Emila’s mental voice was flustered as it slid into my head via a mindlink. ‘Alpha Enzo! Alpha Enzo!’

I groaned, rubbing a hand over my drawn face, and sat up. I’d stumbled upstairs to my cold, empty bed, noted that someone had been in here but not cared enough to investigate, and dropped face-first onto the covers. My bed smelled of Scarlett, like pine and wild berries, and I’d inhaled deeply.

Twenty-three. It was the oldest I’d ever been, with the most cause to celebrate ever – my first birthday with my mate by my side – and yet it had been, by far, the worst.

I sucked in another long, slow breath now. Her scent was still here, but fainter now, blurred with my own. My heart panged.

‘Yes, Emila?’

‘Scarlett isn’t in the medical centre. Please tell me she’s with you.’

Fuck. Suddenly, I wasn’t tired anymore. I bolted upright and shot out of the bed, dragging a t-shirt and a woolly jumper on and shuffling into my discarded pair of jeans. I shivered at the touch of the co