22. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mira
T he conversation stops, and I realize both alphas are watching me. Adrian curses softly, his eyes darkening. “Cole needs to pull his head in.”
My hands shake and I shove them in my lap. No, Cole's absence is good. It helps me keep my walls up, helps me remember why I can't stay. If he were here too, if all three of their scents were surrounding me, if I had to face the full force of their combined care... I don't think I'd have the strength to resist. Not all of them together. Their scents already call to something deep inside me. Adding Cole's oiled leather and fresh pine to the mix would be overwhelming.
“No. He can do whatever he wants.” Everything in my body freezes when I realize I’ve disagreed with an alpha. My stomach turns, appetite vanishing despite the perfect food still on my plate, the food I’ve already eaten settling like rocks in my gut.
“I’m sorry,” I say. I look around for something to do. To appease them, but all I can do is remain frozen in the chair.
“What are you sorry for, Little One?” Adrian says.
I take a chance and let my gaze flick from where my hands are clenched in my lap to his face. “F…for speaking.”
I was getting carried away. Forgetting myself. Forgetting my place. So easy to do around them.
Fragments of myself scatter at my feet, barely-there splinters falling away. So small they’ll never be pieced back together.
“We will not get angry at you because you spoke, Baby Girl,” Zane says.
I don’t understand why they’re not. I disagreed with them. They have every right to be angry at me. I’m going to be punished. Somehow. Someway. My stomach curdles just thinking about it. I force the whisper out because it will be a thousand times worse if I don’t answer them. “Omegas shouldn’t tell alphas what to do.”
Adrian’s scent spikes. I bare my throat at the smoked cedar and protective fury. “Who told you that?”
I flinch, my shoulders hunching, making myself smaller. Years of conditioning can't be undone by a few days of kindness. “It's just... it's how things are.”
“No,” Zane says firmly, but gently. I want to believe him. “It's not. Not here. Not with us.” He moves slowly, telegraphing his movements as he reaches for my clenched hands. His touch is warm, careful, like I'm something precious that might shatter. “You're allowed to speak. To have opinions. To tell us no. ”
A sound escapes me, something between a laugh and a sob. Tell alphas no? My gaze slides around the kitchen. I don’t know where to stop and look, so I settle on my hands.
“Listen to me, Little One.” Adrian's voice is soft but intense, drawing my gaze up despite my fear. His hazel eyes hold mine. “You are not property. You are not lesser. You are our equal in every way that matters. When we say we want you, we mean we want all of you… your thoughts, your feelings, your voice.”
“Even your anger,” Zane adds, his thumb stroking gentle circles on my wrist, grounding me in the present. “Even your fear. Even the parts of you that think you need to apologize for.”
“I don't...” my voice breaks, and I have to swallow hard against the lump in my throat. “Just tell me how you want me to be, and I’ll do it. I’ll be that way.”
Adrian and Zane exchange a loaded look.
“We're not asking you to be anything other than who you are,” Adrian says, and the conviction in his voice makes me tremble because he can’t be telling me the truth. “You're already enough. Exactly as you are.”
But I’m not. I won’t be. My omega side was never enough without modification, correction and training. I understand what Dr. Mercer did to us was wrong. Logically at least, but my omega side?
Haven’s lessons were literally carved into my body and I will not give up my hard-won freedom for anything. Not even these scents that make me want things I should never want.
Trust is a luxury I can't afford.
Hope is a weapon that can only be used against me.
“You know what we’re saying is the truth,” Adrian says, but is it? He leans forward, capturing my attention and holding it tight. His words are slow, as though he’s chosen them carefully. “From the moment we scented you, something clicked. Surely you sense it too? The way our scents complement each other, the way everything is... right? The way you can understand without us saying a word? ”
A frown tightens my brow. Is he talking about our scents? How can he know how much they affect me? I’ve tried to be so careful but maybe something slipped out when I was in heat and…
“We want you here, Baby Girl. Not because of your heat, not because we’re obligated, but because you belong here,” Zane says. “With us. Even Cole, in his own complicated way—”
“Please,” I whisper. My hands tremble where they rest on the counter. “Please don't.”
“Don't what? Tell you the truth?” Zane's voice carries no judgment, only concern. “That we want to take care of you? That seeing you so exhausted, so hungry, so afraid... it kills us?”
“You don't know me,” I manage, though the words are hollow even to my own ears.
“We don't need to,” Adrian says simply. “We see who you are. We scent it. You’re strong. Resilient. A survivor. Can you…scent those things from us, too?”
Their scents wrap around me—smoked cedar and spiced vanilla, dark amber and citrus—and something deep inside me responds. It's terrifying how right they smell. I was never taught anything about this. About how an alpha’s scent can simmer in my blood and seem so right.
“I...” My words trail away. Maybe it means they’ll have even more control over me than usual.
“You scent us the same way we scent you. That’s how we know what you need,” Zane says.
“But...” I struggle to reconcile the mix of emotions crashing inside me with what I've been taught. “That's not... I was told...” The words stick in my throat, memories of endless lectures rising unbidden.
“What were you told, Little One?” Adrian prompts gently.
“That alphas will find our scents disgusting. That they should be hidden at all times.” My bitter scent blooms around us and I know they’re going to get a nose full. “Unless...we’re in heat. Only then it’s allowed.”
A low growl builds in Zane's chest, making me flinch. But his hand remains gentle on my wrist, his thumb still making soothing circles.
“Whoever told you that was wrong,” Adrian says softly. “I’ve already told you we’re mates. Do you remember?”
It’s never far from my mind. I nod, wondering where this is going.
Adrian leans forward as though he wants to touch me, but holds himself back. “We’re not only mates, but we’re scent-matched mates, Little One. We’re true mates.”
How can we be scent-matches? Surely I would know? Surely I would have felt some switch flick on inside me? Everything taught at Haven focused on how to be a good, submissive slave of an omega. There were no classes about omega biology, or about relationships between alphas and omegas, apart from ownership.
How can I trust what he’s saying is true?
I’m so confused. Panic twists my stomach, knot after knot. “No. No, that’s not true. You're lying.”
“Why would we lie about this?” Zane asks gently.
“Because...” I struggle to find words through my fear. “Because if that were true, Cole wouldn't...” I stop, biting my lip hard enough to hurt. If we were truly mates, true scent-matches, surely Cole wouldn't avoid me like I'm poison? He wouldn't run from me. Wouldn't reject me.
They’re manipulating me. Making me feel things I have no right to feel, drilling down to that soft omega center that wants this very thing.
And yet... their scents call to me in ways I can't deny or explain. Maybe Haven did change me. Twisted my biology so I had no option other than to think I want whatever an alpha will dole out.
Their scents billow around me, offering everything I’m starved for, and suddenly I can’t breathe. Black dots edge my vision. I’m heading down a one-way street toward a full-on panic attack and I don’t want them to have to pick me up off the floor.
Pieces of myself are suspended, caught in an unstable truce. Stress lines form, warning of an impending fracture. I need to hold myself together so I don’t shatter entirely. I stand up and drop my gaze. Every bone in my body is hypervigilant, tuned in to their movements. Their scents. Their breathing. “May I please be excused?”
I need to get out of here. Need to escape before I get in any deeper, before leaving becomes impossible. Before I start believing in the impossible dream they offer.
“You don’t have to ask, Mira. If you want to do something, then you have every right do it,” Adrian says.
My gaze flies to meet his. His shoulders are stiff and white lines bracket his lips. He’s barely holding himself back and I’m clearly testing his limits. Pushing an alpha is never a good idea.
I’m tearing apart. I need to bare my neck and offer submission. I need to hug him and provide comfort. I need to tell him there’s no use wanting an omega like me. I’m far too damaged to be of use to them. Apart from my heat, where I serve my pussy up on a silver platter, that is. He stares at me, and I swear I can scent his sadness in the air.
I take one step away. He makes no move to stop me. Gives no indication that this is a trick, and before I can help myself, I’m scurrying down the hallway to the bedroom they say is mine.
Without either of them stopping me.
I ruined dinner and there was no punishment. Instead, they looked sad. What’s more, I knew they were with all certainty. I sense their emotions, smell it in their scents, and this is far too intimate. A fatal trap for all of us.
I can't stay here. I have to get out but, when I glimpse out the windows, snow is falling in heavy drifts. Plus, I’m too weak to leave yet. Exhaustion dogs my heels. In my state, with only my thin clothes, it would be suicide to try leaving now. The best I can do is stay out of their way. I stumble into the closet and curl up on my blankets, bypassing the soft-cloud bed because that represents a night spent in an alpha’s arms .
The night I was comforted and safe . Where scents called to me even when I didn’t know what they meant and now I know the reason why, everything is worse.
I must remind myself that no matter how perfect it seems, how right it is... I can't stay. But when I tug my blankets over my head, I can’t help but inhale the tantalizing scents that make me want more. That make me want to believe Adrian when he said I’m their scent-match. Their mate.
It would be so easy to run back, fall into their arms, and give in to the overwhelming urge to believe, but there is one big gaping hole.
Cole isn’t here.
Cole didn’t want me in heat and that fact is one thing I can trust. He won’t lure me in with soft words, thoughtful actions and false claims. He’ll want me far away from his bond brothers to protect them.
A plan begins to form in my head. It’s clear I won’t survive the weather if I try to leave now. I’ll use the time and get healthier. Stronger. I’ll wait until it stops snowing and then I’ll ask Cole to help me disappear. I’ll run away from these alphas who are too good to be true and never look back.
I ignore the pang of regret that slices through me at the thought, because it seems I can’t even trust myself.