35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Zane
A drian's office offers a panoramic view of the city below. We’ve come back to the office after returning from Sophie’s to take care of some business we hadn’t gotten to. Usually, his space is a sanctuary but today, it’s a war room. I slump into one of the leather chairs facing his desk, while Adrian stalks to the windows. His scent is sharp with anger, with protective fury. The tension in his shoulders speaks volumes about his state of mind. My own nature is buried under the weight of what we've learned, replaced by something grimmer.
“Thank fuck Sophie went through Haven before...” I run a hand through my hair, remembering my sister's bright smile, her healthy pack, her beautiful baby. “Before whatever this is started. Her experience is what Haven should be… what it was meant to be.”
Adrian's jaw clenches as he stares out over the city. His reflection in the window shows the darkness in his eyes. “Which makes Mira's situation even more concerning. Why isn't there any record of her time there? Why fake her death? What happened in those years between Sophie's attendance and Mira's disappearance?”
I lean forward, the words tasting like bitter ash on my tongue. “Two car accidents bad enough to take out an alpha pack and beta parents can’t be a coincidence.”
Adrian turns to face me, the muscle at his temple ticking as he grinds his jaw. “Richardson was pushing for omega rights. Sophie said he was implementing progressive programs, teaching omegas to drive, encouraging creative expression...”
“Programs Mercer later dismantled,” Adrian finishes, his scent darkening further. “And now we have Mira, an omega who's terrified of medical procedures, who lacks basic omega education, who was declared dead alongside her parents.”
“What the hell is Mercer doing at Haven? Or more specifically, to Haven's omegas?” I ask, though I'm not sure I want to know the answer. The implications make my stomach turn. “What kind of program produces traumatized omegas?”
“Whatever it is,” Adrian's voice is deadly calm, but his scent betrays his rage, “it surrounds the deaths of two families that we know of and left our omega traumatized enough to hide her identity.”
“There is one person we could contact to see if he could shed some light. Thomas's omega, Aubrey,” I say. “If anyone knows what happened during that transition period, it would be him.”
Adrian immediately opens his laptop, fingers flying over the keys as he accesses Pinnacle's database. I can't sit still anymore, the weight of our discoveries making me restless. I push up to lean over his shoulder, watching as he navigates through the records. The screen fills with information, and we both freeze.
“What the fuck?” My rain-washed pine scent sharpens with shock. “Aubrey Turns? Not Richardson?”
Adrian scrolls through the file, his scent threading with confusion. “He's been registered with a new pack. The Turns pack.” His voice carries a note of disbelief that matches my own.
“The Turns pack?” My stomach drops. Everyone has heard about the Turns pack. They're one of the most prolific alpha groups in Brynwald. Their influence extends through every level of society, their power undisputed. Axel Turns, their head alpha, isn't just wealthy and powerful; he's the Chief Commissioner of Police. The kind of alpha other alphas fear.
“I've seen them at galas,” I say, remembering the imposing presence of Axel and his pack. The way other alphas give them a wide berth, the way omegas lower their eyes in the pack’s presence. “They've done inspections here at Pinnacle. Axel's not someone you want to cross.” I trail off, remembering how he questioned our more progressive policies. But in all this time, I’ve never seen their omega. Never knew how they were.
Adrian leans back, running a hand through his hair. “How does an omega go from being bonded to Thomas Richardson's progressive pack to being claimed by one of the most conservative, powerful packs in the city?” The question hangs heavy in the air. “Richardson was pushing for omega independence. The Turns pack believes in complete submission.”
“We need to talk to Aubrey,” Adrian says finally, his voice grim. “That’s if he’d be allowed to even see us with that pack…”
“Wait.” A memory surfaces of a petite blonde omega at the recent gala. The way she froze when she spotted Mercer is vivid in my mind. “Adrian, remember that omega at the Brynwald Tower gala? The one who practically had a panic attack when Mercer appeared?”
Adrian frowns, his fingers stilling on the keyboard. “You think she might know something? ”
“I think anyone who reacts like that to Mercer's presence has a story to tell. But I have no idea which pack she belonged to. They left so quickly after that.”
I move to the door, calling for Elliot. He appears moments later.
“Could you get us the invitation list from the Brynwald Tower gala two weeks ago?” I ask. “We're trying to track down one of the guests.”
“Of course, sir.” Elliot nods, but hesitates. “Was the previous report I compiled... helpful? The one about Haven's early years?”
Something in his voice makes me pause. There's an undertone I can't quite place, an interest that seems too pointed. “It was, but why do you ask?”
His careful expression doesn't change, but something flickers in those sharp blue eyes. “Just ensuring I'm providing adequate assistance. If you need any additional information about Haven's history...”
The offer hangs in the air, too deliberate to be casual. Adrian shrugs noncommittally in Elliot’s direction. As Elliot leaves, I share a look with Adrian. Why would he be so interested in that particular report? In Haven specifically?
“Did that feel off to you?” I ask quietly once Elliot's footsteps fade.
“Maybe but…we’re not exactly giving off normal vibes recently. Let’s see what the guest list reveals but we’d best keep anything else to ourselves.”
Our phones ping simultaneously, the sound sharp in the tense office. I pull mine out, expecting Mira in the group chat, but it's our private alpha chat.
“Holy shit,” I breathe when Cole’s face fills the screen. Cole looks wrecked, his hair disheveled, eyes wild, skin pale. His controlled demeanor is completely shattered. There's a desperation in his expression I've never seen before, not even after Lily.
I clench the phone in my clawed hand, blood pounding in my ears as I listen to his hasty message.
“I fucked up. Mira... she was in the gym, and I... fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair. Sweat gleams on his face and shoulders. He must have been working out when whatever happened went down. “I'm going to tell her everything. About Lily, about why I've been such a fucking coward. But I've scared her off and she... something's wrong. She's extremely upset and...” His words tumble together, panic threading through his usually steady tone. He swallows, stark eyes staring down at the screen. “You need to come back. Now. It's an emergency. She's... there was pain in her eyes, and her scent... just hurry.”
I stare at Adrian, my own concern mirrored in his face. For Cole to lose control like this, to show fear...
Adrian utters one word. “Fuck.”
“Understatement of the year,” I say.
We bolt from Adrian's office, my heart pounding with urgency. The need to get to our omega, to fix whatever's broken, drives every movement. Cole's desperate message plays on repeat in my mind, his uncharacteristic panic feeding my own, but just outside the door I collide full force with Elliot, the impact nearly sending him sprawling. My reflexes kick in, and I catch him before he hits the ground, steadying him with hands that want to be somewhere else entirely.
“Shit, sorry!” He was so close to the door I hadn't seen him. What was he doing hovering there?
“I was just coming to—”
“It's fine,” I cut Elliot off, already moving again. No time for his meticulous explanations. Adrian's already at our private elevator, repeatedly hitting the button as if that will make it arrive faster.
As I sprint through the office, dodging startled employees, something niggles at the back of my mind. Why was Elliot standing so close to Adrian's door? Had he been... listening? But the thought dissolves under more pressing concerns as I reach Adrian.
The elevator seems to take forever to arrive, each second an eternity when our omega needs us. The normal bustle of the office fades to background noise against the pounding of my heart, the urgency of our mission.
“Come on, come on,” Adrian mutters, his scent growing sharper with each passing moment.
The elevator finally arrives with a soft ding too peaceful for our urgency. The ride up is torture. Neither of us speak as we’re consumed with worst-case scenarios. Cole's distressed face haunts me, along with his words about Mira being in pain.
When the doors open to our penthouse, the scent slams into us. Distressed omega. Sugared lilac turned bitter. Sweet, musky, sour. She’s having another heat spike, but she’s also terrified. Cole's leather-pine scent is mixed with hers, heavy with guilt and fear.
Everything inside me snaps into high alert.
Adrian growls, low and dangerous, as he stalks through the penthouse. His eyes have gone dark, his movements predatory. We follow the scent trail. It's everywhere, panic-sharp and wrong, but strongest toward Mira's room. The closer we get to her room, the stronger the wrongness becomes.
What the hell happened while we were gone?