9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Cole
I keep my back turned as I chop vegetables, using the mundane task to ground myself against the chaos of emotions tearing through me. Her scent calls to something deep inside me, something I thought died with Lily. Every fiber of my being screams to protect, to claim, to make right all the wrongs that have brought her to this state.
But I can't. I won't.
I made myself a promise that I’ll never have another omega, and I plan to honor that vow.
Still, I can't help cataloging every detail of Mira through my peripheral vision. She's tiny, drowning in that stained cleaning uniform that hangs off her too-thin frame. Her auburn hair would be beautiful if it wasn't tangled in sweaty strands around her face. But it's her eyes that gut me, fierce green fire that burns with defiance despite her obvious neglect, fear and exhaustion. She's fucking breathtaking, even in this state. I can barely think how I’ll be when she’s put on weight and looking healthy. She’ll be fucking irresistible .
Her scent floods the kitchen, making my cock throb with an urgency I can't control. When I lick my bottom lip, catching the drop of venom that's beaded on my teeth, the sweetness hits me. Potent, addictive, filling every dark recess of my soul. I hate this instinctive response. Hate how she belongs in our space like she was meant to be here all along. But what I hate most is how my alpha side knows her as ours, claims her as mate, perfect and inevitable, even as I rage against this undeniable pull.
Fate is a cruel bitch, bringing us a perfect scent match to bond, when I can't... when I won't...
The knife comes down harder than necessary on an innocent carrot. Adrian and Zane's concern bleeds through our pack bond, but I ignore them. I have to. I’m being selfish. Stupid and… she’s their scent match, too.
Watching her perch on that stool, clutching that pitiful pack filled with rags she calls clothes and blankets, shatters the empty space in my chest where my heart should beat. When was the last time someone took care of her? Her collarbones stand out too sharply, her wrists are too delicate, her face too pale.
The soup comes together quickly, chicken, vegetables and gentle herbs that won't upset a starved stomach, because that’s what she is. Starved. For everything. My hands work automatically while my mind wages war between wanting to run and wanting to gather her close, to feed her, to make her understand she really is safe with us despite her obvious distrust.
I can’t blame her for feeling everything she does. Omegas do not travel an easy road.
I ladle the soup into a bowl, the motion more aggressive than necessary. “Eat all of it,” I growl, setting it in front of her with more force than intended. Her scent spikes with fear, and I hate myself for causing her distress .
I have to get out of here before I do something stupid like try to comfort her. Like tell her how every alpha instinct I possess is screaming to protect and claim and keep. So I do what I do best… I storm out of the kitchen like the coward I am, leaving Adrian and Zane to deal with our omega who isn't ours, can't be ours, shouldn't be ours.
Because of me.
I escape to our private gym, unable to be in the same space as her for another second. Her scent, heavy in our penthouse and thickening every second because of her heat, follows me even here, clinging to my clothes, my skin.
My consciousness.
The state-of-the-art facility usually brings me peace, with its rows of professional equipment, the boxing ring, the wall of windows overlooking the city. But tonight, even this sanctuary is tainted.
I wrap my hands, muscle memory taking over while my mind spins. The heavy bag welcomes me as I begin a brutal combination of strikes. Each hit should drive her from my thoughts. The way she clutched those pathetic blankets, how small she looked in our kitchen, the fear and utter distrust in her eyes.
Sweat soaks through my shirt as I push harder, faster. Zane's face floats in my mind, the way he looked at her with such hope, such certainty. He thinks we can keep her. Thinks she'll stay, become our omega, complete our pack. I've seen that look before, that desperate desire for what biology tells us we need. I went that route before and never clawed back from the other side.
I wonder, if Lily had lived, whether or not I would have ever met Adrian and Zane. I was a young sole alpha when I found her. A stupid naive kid who fell head over heels for the first omega whose scent called to me. If Lily had lived, would we have formed a different pack? Would I have found different bond brothers than the ones who are now cemented in my soul? Would that have been a weaker connection than the bond I have with Adrian and Zane?
My fist connects with the bag hard enough to make the chain rattle. It's not fair to them. Adrian and Zane deserve their happiness. They deserve the rare gift of a true scent match. How many decades has it been since anyone reported such perfect compatibility? And here I am, the broken one, standing in the way of their future because I can't handle my own past or the scent that drives me back to when I was eighteen, stupid with youth and newfound alpha hormones. Lily was the same age, her smile bright enough to light up the whole lecture hall. That was back before the laws changed and omegas had more freedom than today. We weren't scent matches, but we were drawn to each other anyway.
The next jab sends a shockwave of pain jolting up my arm. I still smell her terror the night her heat hit unexpectedly. The way my instincts took over, the way I lost control still resonates through me. We were alone in my dorm room, studying for finals. One minute we were laughing over chemistry notes, the next her scent blossomed, her heat exploded to life and...
“Cole?” Adrian's voice pulls me back to the present. He senses my distress through our pack bond, but I shake my head. I don't deserve comfort. Not after what I did.
The partial bond happened so fast. Just a graze of teeth, just breaking her skin, but it was enough. My venom still got into her bloodstream. One drip was enough to link us, enough to make her death my fault. I barely had the presence of mind to call for help, but by then it was too late. Omega Services took her away for “emergency heat management,” and three days later, she was dead. Heat complications, they said. Natural causes.
I swore after Lily that I'd never let another omega suffer because of my weakness. Better to stay alone than risk another death on my conscience.
Another combination, my knuckles burning despite the wrapping. They'll have to choose, eventually. Her or me. And I know what choice they should make, what choice any sane alpha would make. An omega who matches their scents perfectly, or a damaged bond brother who can't even be in the same room as an omega without panicking?
The thought of leaving them tears at my soul, but the thought of staying, of watching them build a life with her... My next hit goes wide, throwing me off balance .
“Your left is dropping.” Adrian's voice cuts through my focused haze. His scent carries concern and determination. He's here for a conversation I don't want.
I spin to face him before turning back to the bag, my chest heaving, sweat stinging my eyes. “Come to tell me what an ass I'm being?” The bag's chain rattles ominously with my next hit.
He moves into the room, assessing me with that calculating gaze that usually steadies our pack but right now just makes me pissed. He’s trying to understand, trying to help, but I don’t want it. I raise my mental walls higher.
“We couldn't leave her there, Cole. You understand that.”
“I do,” I grunt between hits. My shoulders burn with exhaustion, but it's better than anything else. “Don't worry about me. I didn't like seeing her living like that either.” The memory of her thin mattress, her cardboard box of possessions, makes me hit harder. The image overlays with another: Lily's dorm room, her few belongings packed away by Omega Services after...
“She should have been living in comfort. Not that... that hole.”
“But you won't get involved?” His voice carries no judgment, which somehow makes the question seem worse and I want to hate him for it.
“No.” Sweat stings my eyes, or maybe it's something else. “I won't.”
“She loved your soup,” he says quietly. “Ate two bowls. When Zane showed her the nest room and bathroom, she just stood there staring. Like she couldn't believe hot water and clean towels existed. No one's been taking care of her, Cole. No one .”
My stomach twists. Against my will, I'm already planning meals. Roast potatoes, tender steak, things to put meat on her bones. Who knows what she's been surviving on. And why isn’t another pack providing for her?
“She's older than twenty-three. Why isn't she claimed? Every unbonded omega is supposed to be at Haven until they graduate, then they're matched with a pack.” For good reason too. An omega needs her alpha pack, especially so for when she experiences her first heat. No omega can survive a heat alone. Even the ones hidden. If she was hidden, then surely her parents would have provided for her .
It's now illegal for an unbonded omega to live alone because of new 'omega safety' laws. Before these changes, omegas had the freedom to pursue their interests, which is how I met Lily at university. She was among the last of her designation to attend; if she had been born just a year later, she would have been barred. Knowing she might still be alive if circumstances were different haunts me, intensifying my guilt about Mira's presence. Still, having Mira here could land us in a world of legal and ethical pain. This is especially true since we own Pinnacle Therapeutics, which places us directly under a very bright spotlight.
“We need to understand why she’s alone.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s not that simple.
“She's not in any state to be questioned. And she wouldn't tell us if we asked. Not yet. She doesn't trust us,” Adrian says.
“I wouldn’t either if I were her,” I mutter, but there's no heat in it. Whatever reason Mira's alone, it's bad enough to make living in poverty and hiding her designation the better option.
“One thing at a time,” Adrian says. “Get her through this heat, earn her trust. Then maybe...”
I turn away before he can finish. I don't want to think about ‘maybe.' Don't want to think about what it means that an omega would rather live in abysmal poverty than any alternative.
Some questions are better left unasked and suddenly the penthouse, for all its space, is too cloying. I can’t be here. It’s another cop-out but I can’t stop myself. The sky outside is starting to lighten, but I can't stay here. Can't watch another omega suffer, can't risk… “I'm going to the office. Someone must run Pinnacle. You and Zane obviously aren't going anywhere for a while. That omega already has you by the knots.”
“Cole.” Adrian's voice stops me at the door. “She's going to need alphas. We all know that. It’s the only reason she’s here. And after her heat… I won't send her to Haven because of her unbonded status. She’s our scent match. All of us. Surely you understand that? ”
Fresh anger rises and my frayed nerves snap. “Of course I do and I didn’t suggest you should take her back. I’m going to protect her any way I can and that’s by not being here.” He flinches at my tone, but I can't stop. “You and Zane can help her through her heat. Don't expect me to.”
“Mira isn't Lily.”
For a moment, I smell honeysuckle and rain. I hear Lily's last words, and I’m crushed beneath the weight of responsibility, but it doesn’t stop me from pushing past Adrian, before striding to my room to shower and change.
Let Adrian and Zane handle our scent match. I'm better off staying away.