10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Mira
T he suite Zane leads me to makes my stomach churn into a jagged knot. The room is massive, easily three times the size of my entire apartment. Plush cream carpet stretches wall to wall, so thick my feet sink into it. A huge bed dominates one wall, piled high with pillows in soft blues and grays. The sheets are silk, and I've never seen a mattress so thick.
“This is yours. For as long as you need it,” Zane says.
I hear what he’s not saying. This is mine while my heat keeps me locked on their knots. I clutch my ratty pack tighter, trying to hide how badly I’m shaking. Through an open door, I see a bathroom bigger than any I've ever been in, with a massive soaking tub, a shower enclosure that could fit four people, and double vanities in gleaming marble.
Another door reveals a walk-in closet larger than my bedroom but it's the closed double doors on the opposite wall that draw my attention. The nest room; it has to be. Every instinct I possess screams to open those doors, to explore, to burrow into whatever soft things lie beyond, but that way lies danger. I clench my teeth, forcing my urges down despite the ache.
“The TV has every streaming service.” Zane gestures to the flatscreen mounted on the wall above a seating area with plush couches.
Every streaming service . As if I belong in a reality where I can afford one streaming service, let alone anything to watch it on. I catch my reflection in one of the many mirrors and have to look away. I'm filthy, my uniform stained with sweat and other things. My hair is tangled, and dark circles under my eyes make me look haunted. Small and broken against all this flawless luxury.
I don’t belong here.
If I were a beta, they wouldn’t look twice at me, but unfortunately fate gave me the magic pussy, able to lure alphas in with one sniff of my omega scent. Go me.
“Let me run you a bath.” Zane walks toward the bathroom. His massive frame makes the space smaller, but he moves carefully, obviously trying not to spook me.
I follow numbly, watching as he fills the tub with steaming water and adds oils that smell of something florally and feminine. “The towels are fresh.” He points to a stack of white fluffy clouds on a heated rack. “And there are robes in the closet.”
The mirror above the double vanity shows the full extent of my displacement, me in my dirty uniform, looking thin and scared, while Zane is reflected behind me, all strength and wealth and alpha certainty.
“I'll leave you to it,” he says gently. “There's a lock on the door. Use it if it makes you feel safer. We'll be right outside if you need anything. ”
I want to laugh. Need anything? I need to not be here, surrounded by luxury I don't want under these conditions. Not to fight my omega’s desire to submit to these alphas who smell so perfect.
“Thank you,” I manage instead.
He hesitates at the door. “Mira... you have nothing to worry about here. With us. I promise.”
The door clicks shut behind him and I’m alone in this huge bathroom. The bath steams invitingly, but even its luxury is a trap, like everything here. For the first time in days—weeks maybe—my stomach isn't gnawing with hunger. Cole's soup sits warm and heavy in my belly, almost uncomfortably so. My body isn't used to real food, to second helpings, to the simple luxury of eating until I'm full.
I peel off my uniform, wrinkling my nose at the state of it. Sweat-stained, dirty, reeking of fear and heat pheromones. It falls to the marble floor in a sad heap, and I'm glad to be rid of it.
The water embraces me as I sink into the tub, hot enough to make me gasp, and for a moment, I let the heat soak into my aching muscles. When was the last time I had a proper bath? The communal shower in my building barely managed lukewarm water on good days.
My thoughts drift to Adrian and Zane, to the way they look at me like I'm something precious and worth protecting. Then to Cole, whose disgust is almost comforting in its honesty. At least one of them isn't pretending I belong here.
The heat symptoms have settled somewhat, my exhausted body knowing it can't sustain that level of biological demand. The water helps, soothing my fevered skin, washing away days of grime, fear-sweat and dried slick.
Small mercies.
I hate to admit it, but there's a certain peace in knowing no one can burst through the door here. No Chuck with his “routine inspections,” no desperate alphas following the scent of an unmated omega, no Omega Services officers coming to drag me back to Haven. The door is solid, the lock secure, and three powerful alphas guard an entire penthouse between me and other dangers.
Three alphas who smell perfect. Who look at me like.. .
My eyes grow heavy, the warm water and full stomach conspiring against my vigilance. The lure to rest is all-consuming. I just want one moment. One singular moment of peace…
The forest closes around us, branches whipping our faces as we run. Emma's blonde hair gleams like a beacon in the darkness, while Leah's ragged panting matches my own. Pine needles and sharp stones tear at our bare feet, but we can't stop. Won't stop. The thin nightgowns Haven provides—white cotton, identical, designed to strip us of individuality—offer no protection against the cold, but fear keeps us warm enough to stay moving.
Every shadow could hide a guard, every rustle someone hunting us. We've been planning this escape for months, waiting, watching for the perfect storm of circumstances: a shift change, a faulty security camera, a moment of carelessness. We acted when it all came together.
Now we're running for our lives. Literally.
We collapse in the shadow of a massive pine, our bodies trembling with exhaustion and terror. Emma's lips are blue, her pale skin almost translucent in the moonlight. Leah's olive skin has turned ashen with fatigue, blood trickling from where thorns have torn her legs. We cling to each other, trying to quiet our panicked breathing.
“Have we run far enough?” Leah whispers, her voice raw.
Emma shakes her head, leaves tangled in her hair. “Nowhere will be far enough.”
She’s not wrong. We’ve been running for hours. Long enough for the dark of night to give way to the first thin streaks of dawn. It’s nowhere near far enough.
The first bay of hunting dogs cuts through the forest, and ice floods my veins. We freeze, pressing closer together. Emma's heart pounds so hard I feel it where our bodies touch. Leah's quick pants are shaky gasps.
“We have to split up.” The words are ash in my mouth. My throat is raw from running, from suppressing sobs, but nothing can disguise the truth. Together we’re a target. If we split up, we might stand a chance. “The dogs and the guards will have to split up to follow us. They can't follow all our scents at once.”
“No,” Emma sobs, grabbing my hand with fingers like ice. “We stay together. We promised.”
“Mira is right.” Leah's voice shakes. “Three paths. Three scent trails. Better chance that at least one of us makes it. Better chance to tell the truth about Haven.”
“The Daily Herald,” Emma says suddenly, her voice rising with desperate hope. “First Sunday of every month. Personal ads. 'Sisters three seek reunion.' That's how we'll find each other again. Promise me. Promise you'll look.”
It’s flimsy. Too flimsy. If I didn’t have Emma and Leah, I wouldn’t have survived Haven as long as I did, but I care about them too much to give in to the fear of not seeing them again. And not to risk our escape by staying together. None of us can go back.
We embrace one final time, tears freezing on our cheeks. The dogs sound closer now, their baying mixing with the shouts of men.
“Run.” Leah pushes us away, her strength surprising for someone so small. “Run and don't look back. Whatever you hear, don't look back.”
I run until my lungs burn, until my legs are lead. Branches tear at my face, roots try to trip me, but I keep moving. The dogs are still coming. Can't outrun my scent. Can't hide what I am. But through the trees, I see salvation… dark water gleaming in the gray light of dawn.
The river is black and bottomless, the current ferocious but I don’t have a choice. I wade in, gasping as the freezing water rises past my waist, my chest. Just a little farther. Just until they lose my scent. My nightgown billows around my chest, ghost white in the dark.
I take another step and the current catches me, sweeping me off my feet. I swim. As hard and fast as I can. But I'm so tired. So very tired. The water closes over my head and I don't have the strength to fight it anymore. Darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision as icy fingers close around my ankles, pulling down. It would be so easy to just... rest.
At least here, in the cold and dark, I can finally stop running…
“Mira! Mira !”
Strong hands grab me, pulling me from the water. But that's wrong… there was no one to save me that ni ght. No one…
I cough and splutter as Zane’s powerful arms lift me from the bath. Water sluices off me and Adrian wraps a towel around me, their scents thick with panic. The bathroom lights are harsh after the darkness of my dream and for a moment I’m caught in confusion before reality slams back into me again.
It was a dream. Just a dream.
I'm shaking so hard my teeth chatter, the dream-memory of that night still clinging to me like the icy water of that river. It wasn't just a dream though. It was real, it happened, I lived it. I lost Emma and Leah that night, the only friends I'd ever had, the only people who understood what Haven really was. The sound of those hunting dogs still echoes in my ears, mixing with the splash of bathwater. The only reason I lost the guards was the river I’d found by chance swept me miles downstream. God only knows if Emma or Leah found their chance to escape.
The bathroom's steam can't touch the endless cold of that memory. Water streams from my hair, down my face… or maybe they're tears. I can't tell anymore. Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm clinging to Adrian and Zane, seeking comfort I haven't allowed myself in years.
Adrian's hands are gentle on my back while Zane murmurs soothing words I can't quite process but there's tension in Adrian's frame, a barely contained fury that makes me flinch. His scent spikes with anger, bitter enough it pulls me back into the moment. His dark eyes skate over my skin and, oh Gods, water covers the marble floor, soaking their expensive clothes. Their perfect bathroom is ruined because I couldn't even take a bath properly. “I'm sorry. I'll clean it up, I promise. I didn't mean to… I'll fix it—”
“How did you get these scars?” His fingers ghost over the marks on my shoulders, and my back when the towel slips down. The raised welts and thin lines tell the story of Haven's ‘corrections’.
Suddenly, horrifically aware of my mostly naked state, I see myself through their eyes. My ribs are too prominent under pale skin, hip bones sharp enough to cut, muscles wasted from years of inadequate nutrition. Old scars and newer bruises map a history of survival across my body. Self-disgust rises in my throat as I propel myself from Zane’s arms, snatching at the towel to recover my skeletal frame.
“Don’t look at me!” My hands shake so violently I can barely hold the fabric in place. The soft cotton is sandpaper against my over-sensitized skin and I back away until I hit the wall.
I’ve made them angry, ruined their beautiful bathroom, and shown them exactly what kind of damaged omega they've brought into their expensive world.
Now I'll pay for it.
My breath comes in short, sharp gasps as I wait for the correction to begin. Will they use their hands? Their belts? Or will they simply drag me back to Haven, wash their hands of the problematic omega who can't even take a bath without causing trouble?
“Please forgive me,” I whisper, though I don't understand what I'm begging for. Mercy? Understanding? The strength to endure whatever comes next? My teeth chatter and I can’t help the whine that bursts out of me, followed by whispered words that won’t make a damn of difference. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”