August’s Secret Phone

Havermouth, Present Time

The moment Heath strode away from Aislen, he regretted doing so, but the alpha in him kept going. “Damn it,” he wrung his hands through his hair as a corner took him out of her line of sight. “Damn it, Heath.”

Yes, Aislen had been in the wrong. Watching her use her power on the broken and fragile Abigail had felt so wrong on so many layers. There was no justification for it in his mind. But he’d handled it the wrong way, as he always seemed to do with Aislen. He’d pushed them into another argument.

He had to do better. He had to think like Talen.

“Fuck.”

His path took him to August’s door. Might as well get it done, he decided and knocked.

It did not take long for the door to open and August sneered as he dragged his eyes over Heath. August wore the green army uniform, whereas Heath, having come from the river house, was dressed in jeans and a shirt, but the sneer was not about Heath’s fashion choices.

“Good afternoon, August,” Heath ignored the derisive sneer