27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cole
T he cursor on my screen blinks accusingly as my thoughts drift to Mira. Yet again. My head conjures up in multi-dimensional color her haunted eyes, the way she flinches at sudden movements, how painfully thin she is. My fingers trace my pack bond mark linking me to Zane and Adrian, guilt churning in my stomach. I should have been there during her heat, should have helped my brothers care for her. Instead, I’m a coward who ran, haunted by Lily's ghost.
Your touch brings death .
I can almost taste her scent drifting through meters of thick concrete from the penthouse above us while I sit in my office chair, my thoughts reminding me of every reason I can’t have her. I slam my laptop shut and stare out the window at the snow-covered city below. The sky is gray and sleet continues to fall the way it has done most of the morning. The sound echoes through my office, matching the turmoil in my chest.
Adrian and Zane are so good with her, so naturally protective and nurturing. And I... I can barely stay in the same room without drowning in memories of Lily. In the devastating knowledge that my presence somehow contributed to her death.
Logically I know that Mira isn't Lily. Adrian and Zane have told me often enough that Lily’s death wasn’t my fault. Hells, they even had Dr. Maverick pull her death report for me to read. I know I’m not to be blamed in any way, but it doesn’t stop the guilt.
Guilt upon guilt upon guilt.
I burn for my scent-matched omega.
The lonely, vulnerable woman fate forgot.
My cowardice hurts not only her but my bond brothers who are completely besotted. They'll want to complete the bond, when she's ready. When she’s open to trust. However long that will take, they’ll wait. The thought fills me with equal parts of longing and terror. My instincts rage at my self-imposed distance, demanding I protect, claim, cherish.
But my fear is stronger.
A knock on my open door startles me from my dark thoughts. Zane saunters into my office, wearing that shit-eating grin that makes my gut twist because I know exactly who put it there. Her scent, one I would recognize anywhere, clings to him and my cock stirs at even this faint trace.
He sprawls into the chair across from my desk with his usual casual grace, all long limbs and easy confidence. I brace myself, recognizing the determined set of his jaw. He's here to give me an earful, and knowing Zane, he won't leave until he's said his piece .
“Save it,” I growl before he can start. “There's nothing you can say I haven't already thought myself.” My fingers drum on the desk, a habit I've never been able to break.
His smile fades, replaced by something more serious. “Your mood is affecting her, Cole. You have to stop this self-flagellation. For her sake, if not your own.” He leans forward, green eyes intense. “She flinches every time you leave the room, like she thinks your absence is her fault.”
His jab lands exactly where it should.
“You think I don't know that? There's nothing you or Adrian can say that I haven't already torn myself apart over.” Our pack bond throbs with the intensity of emotion. “I know Mira is important—”
“Then spend some time with her. Get to know her as a person, not just an omega you're afraid to hurt.” His voice softens slightly. “She's scared right now, yeah, but there's fire in her, Cole. You should see how her eyes light up when she discovers something new. I can't wait to peel back all her layers, discover who she really is beneath all that fear.”
The thought of leaving flits through my mind. It would be easier for everyone if I just walked away. The pack would survive. They'd heal. But Zane, damn him, reads the thought on my face before I can voice it.
“Don't be a stupid dick,” he says flatly. “Running away won't fix anything. It'll just hurt her more, and she's had enough hurt to last a lifetime. You think I can't smell your desire for her? That we don't see how you watch her when you think no one's looking?”
The truth stings, but I can't shake the fear. “And what if I make it worse? What if—”
“What if you're exactly what she needs?” Zane interrupts, leaning forward. “What if your understanding of loss helps her heal? Stop thinking about what could go wrong and start thinking about what could go right.” He plows his fingers through his dark hair, frustration evident in the gesture. “She needs all of us, Cole. Different pieces of the same puzzle. Stop robbing her of that because you're scared. ”
The words hit home harder than I want to admit. My instincts surge at the thought of her needing me, wanting to provide whatever she requires to heal.
“I don't know how,” I admit, the words tearing from my chest.
Zane's expression softens. “Start small. Join us for dinner tonight. Actually stay at the table instead of taking your plate to your room. Let her see you as more than just a shadow that keeps disappearing.”
I let myself imagine all of us around the dinner table. I’d have to fight Adrian for the kitchen. Both of our instincts would insist on providing sustenance for our omega. I can almost see Mira trying new foods, allowing herself seconds without that haunted look. Maybe she’d even smile and enjoy the dish I cooked better than Adrian’s. The thought settles more gently than expected, warming something cold inside me. Maybe Zane is right. Maybe small steps...
Our phones ping simultaneously, interrupting my thoughts. I open the image Adrian sent and I can’t draw my eyes off the screen. Mira's curled in his lap, peaceful in sleep, wrapped in one of the blankets I placed around the penthouse. I put them everywhere…offices, living room, library. Anywhere she might need them. Her face is relaxed in sleep, free from the constant wariness she carries while awake.
ADRIAN: Heat spike. Got it under control. She's resting now.
His sentences are brief and I imagine him typing with one hand, not wanting to wake Mira.
Jealousy flares, hot and sharp. I know exactly how he “got it under control”. But my jealousy fades quickly into relief that she's not hurting anymore. Still, these continued symptoms are concerning. Dr. Maverick's report about the suppressant levels in her system makes rocks form in my stomach.
ADRIAN: She was reading a book on omega biology. Like she doesn't know anything about herself.
I share a glance with Zane. How could she not understand anything about her biology? But then I think of the few things she’s said. Her constant vigilance and slight confusion on her face in our interactions and I realize she might not really understand the true nature of an omega.
ADRIAN: Found anything in the records?
“Nothing yet,” I tell Zane, rubbing my temples. The headache that's been threatening all morning pulses behind my eyes. “I've asked Elliot to generate a report, but…”
As if summoned, Elliot appears in my doorway, his pristine appearance a stark contrast to my current disheveled state. His salt-and-pepper hair is perfectly styled, not a single wrinkle marring his designer suit. Zane's already typing a response to Adrian, his fingers flying over his phone screen, but I notice how his attention shifts to monitor Elliot's presence.
“Is this the report you were talking about, sir?” Elliot says, his gaze taking in the tension in the room. “I’m afraid it took longer for me to generate and it’s rather thin. It’s difficult to get information from the timeframe you specified. The Haven Institute's formation… well, omega record-keeping wasn't what it is today. There’s no mention of a ‘Mira’ having gone there.” He hands me a depressingly slim folder.
I flip it open, disappointment settling heavy in my gut. The few pages inside mock me with their lack of useful information. The memory of those early days still burns. Ten years ago is right when Senator Hardwick was elected and Pinnacle started to drown in red tape.
Perhaps my timeframe is off. Perhaps Mira isn’t as old as I’d presumed…
“If I may…” Elliot hesitates, straightening his already immaculate tie. “I could dig deeper with a bit more information. If there’s anything else I can go on?”
Something in his tone makes me bristle but I force my reaction down. This is Elliot, for God's sake. He's managed our office for eight years, been nothing but loyal. Still, my protective surge regarding Mira shouldn’t surprise me. I’m her scent-matched mate, even if I’m not acting like it.
“Thank you, Elliot.” I keep my voice neutral, though I notice Zane has stopped typing, his attention fully on our exchange now. “This is just for a friend of a friend, and it seems like I’ve wasted enough of your time. If I need anything else, I'll be sure to ask.”
Mira is hiding for a reason and it's our job to protect those secrets until she's ready to share them.
Elliot nods and leaves the office. I get up and close the door, needing to move.
“I thought she might have gone to Haven, short of not knowing any of her history.” I plow a hand through my hair. I haven’t been able to find any information on Mira at all. On paper, she doesn’t exist, and it makes my search for her frustrating. “Perhaps she’s one of those omegas hidden by her parents. She never mentioned having gone to Haven, so maybe she's always been in hiding. It happens far more often than the government wants to believe.”
Zane leans forward, his expression all focused intensity. “There has to be something on her, Cole. Something from her youth when her designation came through at least. Every omega gets tested. It's federal law. Even if she went into hiding after, there should be some record of her initial designation. A doctor’s report. Her school report. Anything.”
“That is true...” A doctor would have to have officially logged her designation as omega when she presented, and it should have been shared with Pinnacle. I switch tactics, pulling up Pinnacle's archived database. Hardwick's bureaucratic nightmare has one advantage—we maintained access to old omega records as part of our medical research division. Records that predated Haven's formation, back when local councils independently tracked omega designations.
I start with our old database, typing 'Mira' into the search field. The field populates with omegas named Mira, and then continues to populate with derivatives: Mira, Mirah, Miranda, Mirabel, Almira.
Zane stills when he looks over my shoulder, “Do you think… I never thought Mira was a shortened version of another name.”
My heart thunders because I believe we’re onto something. “Now by age range… assuming she's between 24 and 26.” The list narrows significantly.
“There.” Zane points to the screen. “Miranda Jensen. Registered as an omega nine years ago by her parents. ”
My fingers are already pulling up the full record. “Millpark district records... shit, we've been looking in the wrong place entirely. She lived in Camden Street in Millpark, not Camden the town .” The realization makes me sit back, running a hand through my hair.
More details populate the screen: Miranda Elizabeth Jensen. Education: Millpark Middle School. Omega designation confirmed: Age 16.
“That’s why Elliot couldn’t track her. She’s registered as Miranda. Not Mira,” Zane says.
“And here's her Haven registration form. She did go there,” I say, pulling up another file. She enrolled at Haven two years after the institute’s founding.
My hands clench on the desk. My fingers fly over the keyboard as I hack into Haven's database and find everything we’ve been searching for.
The screen displays a basic designation record: Jensen, Miranda Elizabeth. DOB: March 15. Designation: Omega. Parents: Thomas Jensen (Beta) and Elizabeth Jensen (Beta). Residence: 47 Camden Street, Millpark.
There’s a photo of a young Mira. The girl in the school photo stares back at me, her emerald eyes holding none of the fear our current-day Mira carries. She looks so young . A smile plays on her lips, full of soft hope. I scroll down the screen until I find something that makes my blood freeze.
“Fuck.” I stare at the death certificate on my screen. “Miranda Jensen, declared deceased four years ago. Age 21.” I scroll further, my gut churning. “Along with her parents. Listed cause of death: fatal car accident.”
“Dead?” Zane's voice is sharp with disbelief. “She’s not dead. She's very much alive, Cole.”
I'm about to close the death certificate when a familiar name catches my eye. My blood runs cold as I read the signature at the bottom. “Zane, look at who signed it off.”
Zane leans in, and I hear his sharp inhale. His scent spikes with anger. “Why the fuck did Silvia Mercer sign a death certificate on an omega who is very much alive?”