17. Koa
Koa
I’m sitting at the kitchen island, picking at the omelet Amel threw together. It looks perfect—fluffy, golden, dotted with fresh herbs and bits of cheese—but I’m not really hungry. My body feels wrung out, tired, and achy despite the bath that helped ease some of the tension.
Now I’m dressed in Amel’s clothes, drowning in his oversized hoodie and sweatpants that keep slipping off my hips. It’s comical, really, the way the fabric pools around me like a kid playing dress-up, but it’s warm and smells like him.
I pull my curls back into a little poofy ponytail, trying to busy my hands, but even that draws attention. Amel’s lips twitch into a smile, his dark eyes softening as he watches me. It’s unnerving, but also strangely comforting. Like I’m something precious to them, something worth looking at.
My phone buzzes on the counter and I glare at it, my stomach twisting as Damien’s name flashes across the screen. It’s the third time he’s called this morning, and I know if I don’t answer soon, there’s going to be hell to pay.
I let it ring once, twice, three times before I sigh and pick it up, pressing the phone to my ear with a grimace. “What?” I snap, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice.
“ What the fuck, Koa? ” Damien’s voice roars through the speaker, so loud I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “You think you can just run away? You think you can just disappear and not face the consequences? You’ve got responsibilities, and you’re going to come back here and fix this mess you made—”
“Damien, stop,” I interrupt. My hand clenches around the phone, my knuckles whitening, remembering how my own brother left me in that gala alone while chaos was erupting around me. Someone else had to save me. “I didn’t run away. I just... I just needed space.” That’s obviously the wrong thing to say.
“Space?” he spits, his tone venomous. “You’re an Omega, Koa. You don’t get space. You’re supposed to follow orders, do what’s expected of you, and not embarrass this family.”
My stomach churns, bile rising in my throat as his words cut through me. I glance over at Amel, who’s watching me now with a dark, simmering intensity. He’s hearing every word, even from a few feet away.
“I’m not coming back,” I finally push out, hoping that there’s enough confidence in my voice to tell Damien I’m not joking. “Not to that house. Not to you.”
Damien laughs, a cold, harsh sound that sends a shiver down my spine. “You think you have a choice? You’re going to come back, Koa, or I’ll make sure you regret it. You have one hour. One fucking hour to get back to the house and meet the Alpha who’s willing to give you a chance. Do you understand me? One hour, or I’ll come find you myself and drag your sorry ass back here. Don’t test me.”
My heart races, panic coiling tight in my chest, and I’m gripping the phone so hard my knuckles ache. “Damien, I—”
But he doesn’t let me finish. “No excuses,” he snaps. “You’ve embarrassed this family enough. You’re an Omega, Koa. Start acting like one.”
The line clicks, his voice cutting out, but the weight of his threat lingers. I don’t even realize I’m shaking until I feel Amel’s hand slide over mine, his fingers brushing against my skin as he slowly pulls the phone from my grip.
I blink up at him, my breath hitching as he sets it on the counter beside me. His eyes meet mine, the intensity in his gaze making my panic stutter, just for a moment.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says softly.
A panicked gasp escapes my lips, and I shake my head, my chest tightening as the words tumble out before I can stop them. “Amel, you don’t understand,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “He really will come and find me. I—I don’t want to go back there, but I don’t see another choice.”
His hand moves to my cheek, his thumb softly brushing over my skin as he tilts my face up toward his. “Koa, if you feel like you have to go, you won’t go alone.”
I blink, confusion and disbelief warring in my mind. “Why would you do that?” I ask, my voice cracking. “Why would you get involved?”
His lips twitch into the faintest smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Because we didn’t just assume you’d stay with us, sweet girl. We know we’ll have to prove to you that we’re worthy. And the first step in doing that is making sure you feel protected. Supported.”
I drop my gaze, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of the oversized hoodie I’m wearing. Amel’s hand shifts, his fingers brushing against my chin as he gently guides my gaze back to his. “But first,” he murmurs, his tone lighter now, teasing at the edges, “you’re going to finish your food.”
I blink up at him, startled, and he nods toward the half-eaten omelet on the plate in front of me. “You’ll need your strength,” he adds, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Despite everything, a small, shaky laugh escapes me, the tension in my chest easing, just a little. “You really think I’ll have an appetite after that call?” I mutter, picking up the fork and poking at the eggs.
Amel leans in, his forehead almost brushing mine, his voice dropping to a soft, reassuring rumble. “I think you’ll need every ounce of strength for whatever comes next. You’re also not facing Damien alone. Not anymore.”
It’s a promise wrapped up in a pretty bow, a promise I really, really want to trust.