19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Mira
Z ane extends his hand. “Come sit with me?” It's phrased as a question, not a command, but I know better than to refuse an alpha. Years of conditioning make my feet move before my mind can process the choice.
I move carefully to the stool beside him, perching on the edge. My worn clothes are shabby next to his casual but obviously expensive attire. The cotton of my threadbare shirt broadcasts poverty without me having to say a word.
Adrian's eyes meet mine across the kitchen island, and heat floods my cheeks as I remember how he held me after my nightmare; how I broke down in his arms. How I sobbed against his chest, and he stroked my back and whispered comfort until I could breathe again. I want to apologize for my weakness, for burdening him with my tears, for revealing too much in my distress, but I don't want to draw attention to it.
Cole tenses at the stove, though he doesn't turn. The silence stretches, thick with things unsaid, with questions unasked, with boundaries undefined, until I can't bear it anymore.
“Can you please tell me what you’d like me to do?” I duck my head, only looking up when there’s no answer.
“What do you mean, Little One?” Adrian asks.
Gods, he’s going to make me spell it out. “Now that my heat is over, can you explain your expectations of me?”
They could ask anything of me, and it would be their right. Even if I didn’t want to do what they request, they could bark an order, and I’d have no choice but to obey. They could make me kneel on the cold marble all day on my knees and service them if they wanted. They could steal my choice with a simple order. Omega biology is that fucked.
“I…I’m happy to cook. Clean. Obviously. There’s no need to get another employee from Stacey. I’ll clean your offices. And this apartment. I can do it all. You won’t have to lift a finger. I promise,” I say.
Without rules, without expectations, I can’t protect myself. I can’t avoid punishment if I don’t understand their parameters.
The three alphas exchange looks I can't interpret, silent communication that makes my anxiety spike higher with each passing second. Their scents shift with emotions I can't read, and my hands clench in my lap, waiting to learn what price I'll have to pay for the kindness they've shown me. Because one thing I’ve learned is that nothing is for free. Maybe I’ve already outstayed my welcome after my breakdown last night. No alpha wants an omega who is hard work.
I stand from the chair. “I’ve already taken too much of your time. I’ll get out of your hair.” I’m going to leave anyway. Might as well make it sooner rather than later.
Something crosses Adrian's face, an emotion I can't define, but that makes me tense even more. My muscles coil, ready for whatever will come next. Instead, his voice emerges soft, measured, filled with something that sounds dangerously like sincerity.
“You're wanted here, Mira. Very much so. If our actions aren’t clear, then let my words be clear,” he says, the tone careful and deliberate, as if making sure I fully understand. “You never have to leave unless you choose to. We want you to stay. Not just for a little while.” His hazel eyes hold mine, willing me to believe him. “We want you to stay forever.”
The words are beautiful. Perfect even. The air leaves my lungs in a rush, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. Stay?
Forever?
The first thought that slams into my skull is ‘ what for ’? Why would they want that? They’ve already had a heat out of me. What reason would they want me to hang around longer?
Unless…my thoughts drift down a darker path, but… there was no need for Adrian to hold me after bathing me. Not so tenderly, making sure I was comfortable. No need for Zane to tell me their story. So gently, making sure I understood there’s more to Cole’s distance than dislike. No need to let me sleep in a bed with the softness of clouds. Or to offer me breakfast, for that matter. Or to be kind. Gentle. Patient.
No. It’s clear they don’t want to bond me to them . At least not in this moment, but I still don’t understand why they’d want forever .
Well…not all of them do.
My eyes drift involuntarily to Cole's back. His muscles are tight under his shirt, his movements precise and strained. He's made his feelings about me clear. Adrian can't speak for all of them; can't force his pack brother to want an omega when he clearly doesn't.
Cole's hands still over the pan. His scent spikes with distress, and with something that smells almost like longing before quickly suppressed. I’m not sure why I can read so much in his scent, but Adrian speaks and I slide my attention to him.
“Cole very much wants you,” Adrian says firmly, addressing both of us. “He just needs time to work through some things. To clear his head.” There's a weight to his words, a history I don't understand. The air grows thick with unspoken pain.
“Cole?” Adrian's voice carries authority now.
Cole turns, plating up scrambled eggs, like he's using the simple task to hold himself together. He sets it next to perfectly crispy bacon and golden toast, a breakfast that speaks of care despite his apparent rejection of me.
“I’ll be in the gym.” His dark eyes meet mine for just a moment, and the pain there slices through me before he stalks from the kitchen.
The plate of perfectly prepared food sits between us like an offering, an apology, or a goodbye. I don't understand how his pain can make my chest ache.
Zane's arm settles around my shoulders, warm and steady. “Cole will come around. Give him time.”
I don’t want him to come around. He shouldn’t have to. I’m the intruder here. The person taking up space that isn’t mine. It would be safer for all of us if he stayed away. One less alpha to distrust. Yet the image of his pain-filled eyes makes something in my chest twist.
I press my fingers against my eyes, trying to ease the building pressure in my throbbing head. Nothing makes sense… not these alphas, not my reactions to them. The tug of war inside me is real and exhausting. As soon as I decide I want something, they turn it around in a matter of seconds. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m omega, or if this heat took so much out of me, I’m not seeing straight.
Maybe I’m too broken to understand anything.
I had no trouble hating Hugo and Lars, though. I never wavered with them. I always wanted to be out from under their radar. These alphas should be no different.
“Please eat,” Adrian says. It's a request, not an order, though he could so easily command me. He's a prime alpha—it’s in his presence, in his natural authority, in the way his scent makes my omega want to submit—yet he consistently chooses not to use that power over me .
I stare at the plate of creamy eggs. Haven nutrition lectures rise in my mind: “A well-maintained omega is a valuable omega, able to service her alpha at all times.”
“Hey. Mira.” Zane cuts through the tension, his voice light, his arm still warm around my shoulders. “What do you think about what I picked out?”
I blink in confusion until he turns his laptop screen toward me. The shopping cart he's loaded makes me suck in air. A hot pink sequined jumpsuit looks like it escaped from a disco, and those rainbow striped leggings would make my eyes hurt to wear. There’s a T-shirt with 'Alpha Bait' written across the chest in glitter letters, and what appears to be a tutu in neon green.
I peer at him, trying to determine if he's serious. His blue eyes dance with mischief, and the knot in my stomach eases at his obvious attempt to make me smile. It's such a normal thing, teasing, joking, trying to lighten a heavy moment. Something I haven't experienced since... since before Haven. “What’s the matter? Don’t like the clothes I picked out for you?”
“These aren’t…You're not actually...” I stop when his grin widens.
“What, you don't think the sequins would look fabulous on you?”
A sound escapes me, not quite a laugh, but closer than anything I've managed in years. The sound is foreign in my throat, dangerous almost. Allowing myself this small moment of lightness might break whatever spell is keeping the real world from crashing down around me.
Zane pushes the laptop between us. “Here, take out what you don't want,” he says, as if this is normal, as if alphas regularly shop online with omegas they don’t know. His shoulder presses against mine, his amber scent hitting me in the back of the throat with a zesty citrus.
Before I realize what's happening, I'm drawn into his enthusiasm. We scroll through pages of clothes, Zane deliberately picking the most outrageous items he can find. His commentary keeps making unexpected sounds escape me.
“Oh, look at this one,” he says, clicking on a lime green feather boa that looks like it was plucked from a radioactive ostrich. “Perfect for grocery shopping. Maybe pair it with these?” He points to holographic platform boots that would probably break my ankles. I can’t help the snicker that escapes .
Adrian settles back in his chair, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches us. His presence is... comforting, which should worry me more than it does. Protective without being possessive. The way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs at Zane's selections makes something warm bloom in my chest. His scent carries notes of contentment, of pleasure at seeing his pack brother make me almost laugh.
Zane's enthusiasm is infectious. I find myself pointing at ridiculous items—platform shoes with built-in fish tanks (“Perfect for work!”), a hat that looks to be made entirely of plastic fruit (“For formal occasions”), a jumpsuit covered in LED lights (“For those times you need to be seen from space”). It's just play, I know that. He won't actually buy these things for me. This is just his way of diffusing the tension after Cole's departure and giving me a moment of normalcy in the chaos my life has become.
When I finish the last bite of breakfast—more food than I've had in months, my stomach almost uncomfortable with the richness—I realize I can't remember the last time I had so much fun.
I can’t remember when I had fun, period.
I’ve enjoyed just sitting here, laughing at silly clothes, being treated as a person rather than property. For a brief, precious moment, I feel normal. Not an omega in hiding, not a fugitive from Haven, not a burden or a possession or a problem to be solved. Just... me.
“Want to watch a movie?” Zane asks, his voice casual, as if we do this every day.
I haven’t watched a movie in years. The temptation to say yes is almost overwhelming, but...
“Don't you have to work?” I glance between him and Adrian. They are the owners of Pinnacle. They must have more to do with their time than babysit an omega who isn’t going to stick around.
“I'd rather spend time with you,” he says simply, his gaze sincere. “Adrian's taking care of business today.” His scent carries no deception, just genuine desire for companionship .
I look at Adrian, who waves us off with a warm smile. “Go, watch your movie. I'm more than capable of handling the business without Zane’s help for a few hours.”
Following Zane into the living area, I come to a stop. The space is massive but somehow cozy, with a huge sectional sofa in butter-soft leather that probably costs more than my yearly salary, an open fireplace with flames dancing behind glass, artwork that speaks of taste and wealth I can't begin to comprehend.
My gaze is drawn to the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcase Canton City spread out far below, making us float above the world. Tendrils of fog roll across the landscape, making the city seem mysterious rather than a huge metropolis.
“The view never fails to surprise me, either,” Zane says.
“Uh, yeah. I’m not used to seeing the city like this.” Life has been hard enough getting through each day on the streets down below, let alone even thinking about discovering a birds-eye view of it all.
“It’s something else, isn’t it? I think the view is why we enjoy living here so much. That, and it’s not far from work.” Zane’s smile lights his entire face and makes me forget about how close we are to their company.
“We didn’t have anything like this in Camden,” I say, then everything in my body stills when I realize I told him where I used to live. Zane only settles onto the couch and gestures me over. There’s nothing on his face that makes me think the name of my hometown means anything to him, thank the gods.
“Come here. Movies must be watched in coziness.” The grin stays on his face as he produces a blanket I swear wasn’t in the room before, something impossibly soft and fluffy in a neutral cream color, the kind of luxury I've only seen in store windows.
I sit next to him, watching him carefully, but when he drapes the blanket over me, I can't help but burrow into its warmth, my fingers stroking the plush fabric. It smells new, unused, like he bought it specifically for this moment. The thought makes something flutter in my stomach.
The TV above the fireplace must be at least eighty inches, the picture crystal clear as he brings up a streaming service. “What would you like to watch? ”
The question catches me off guard, making me realize how long it's been since anyone cared about my preferences. “I… You choose.” My mind goes completely blank. I have no idea about current movies. “I’m not sure what would be good.”
The last time I watched a movie was with my parents, before I presented.
I don't tell him about Haven's strict rules against entertainment, about how TV and movies were considered “distractions from proper omega behavior.” Don’t mention that after I was taken to the basement, the last thing I thought of was what was happening in Hollywood. That most days I was so exhausted from the endless work and starvation I fell asleep wherever I happened to sit at the end of the day. And then, after I escaped, surviving and working two jobs kept me more than occupied.
“Well then. This is your day,” he says softly, his voice carefully light despite the emotion I can smell on him. “I think a rom com is on the cards for this afternoon’s entertainment.”