41. Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-One
Adrian
W e step into the Brynwald precinct, the scents of coffee and paper files mixing with the metallic tang of anxiety. Asher is waiting for us in the foyer, his detective's badge glinting where he’s secured it on his belt. One look at his face tells me he understood the urgency in my tone during our earlier call. He's filled out since our university days. Still lean, but his shoulders are broader and the muscles show even beneath his jacket. His eyes still hold that same sharp intelligence that made him ace every criminal psychology class in school.
“Adrian,” he smiles, extending his hand. The handshake is firm, familiar. I see curiosity burning in his eyes, but I won’t tell him anything yet. Not until we’re in a secure room “Been too long.” His gaze flicks to Zane and Cole behind me, noting our collective tension.
“Thanks for making time, Ash.” My voice is rougher than usual, thick with the weight of what we're about to discuss. Thank the gods for childhood friendships that survive into adulthood. Thank the gods Asher chose to become one of Brynwald's finest instead of following his father into corporate law. I like Asher and his brand of no bullshit. The alpha is well placed for his job.
Asher ushers us past the reception desk and down the corridor. We're all on edge, hating the distance between us and our omega. Every step away from Mira is wrong, but this needs to be done. Her story needs to be told, and Asher is the only detective I trust to handle it with the care and discretion it deserves, especially since it incriminates two very powerful females.
My mind drifts to Mira, alone in our apartment. I still taste her skin on my lips, still feel her trembling beneath me as we made love. When this is over, I'm going to spend days worshipping every inch of her. Show her exactly how precious she is, how completely she's claimed not just our bodies but our souls.
I want to bond her.
We all do.
I want that permanent, unbreakable connection with her. I'll do whatever it takes to make her feel safe enough, loved enough, to ask us for that commitment. To want that forever as desperately as we do.
She deserves for nice things to happen to her. Be taken to nice places. Explore the world as she should. I’ll give anything and everything to see that. She should experience Paris. I imagine her now, wearing a flowing dress with a smile on her lips and laughter in her eyes, walking along the Seine, far from the shadows of her past.
Being an unregistered omega won't matter; I'll buy a private jet if I have to. Money is no object when it comes to her happiness, her safety. No more waiting in lines, no more hiding. Only the best for our princess .
Our miracle.
Our mate.
I’ll replace every bad memory with a beautiful new one. Every scar kissed until she associates them with love instead of pain. Every fear soothed by our constant presence, our unwavering devotion. She'll never want for anything again.
“In here,” Asher says, holding open a door to a private conference room.
Asher settles us into the stark interrogation room, the metal chairs cold and utilitarian, but I don't need comfort right now. I need justice.
“How've you been, Ash?” I ask, watching my old friend's face. The years have lined it with experience, but his eyes still hold his ferocity from when he was fifteen. Now he wears a detective's badge, and I’m happy to realize that fire still burns.
“Good, mostly.” He runs a hand through his dark hair, a familiar gesture of contemplation that takes me back to late-night study sessions. “I’ve formed my pack, which is just myself and two alphas. Like yours, I see.” His lips quirk into a small grin and settle back quickly. “Still no omega though.” A shadow crosses his face. “We’ve put our submission into Haven but…well, we’re getting older and the process takes so long. Omegas are too rare nowadays…” He shakes his head and pins me with a solid stare. “How's the Mortalis research? Every alpha pack in the country's watching Pinnacle’s work. Could change everything if you crack it.”
I lean forward. Zane shifts beside me, his body thrumming. Cole's pine scent remains steady, but his tension radiates through the pack bond. “That's partly why we're here, Ash. What I'm about to tell you... it's bigger than our research. It could tear apart the whole omega restriction system. Are you ready for that kind of storm?”
Asher's expression transforms, his professional demeanor cracking to reveal the man below the badge. “Ready? Adrian, I've spent years watching omegas get treated like property. Watching abused omegas come through our doors only to be turned over to their packs again.” A muscle twitches at his temple as he grinds his teeth .
“They should have rights just like any other person. Being rare doesn't justify locking them away like china dolls.” He sits forward, gaze burning. “I’m telling you this because it’ll go no further, but do you understand how many abuse cases get buried because there are no laws that support them? They’ve been systematically stripped away.
“Last month. I had an omega, barely post heat, come in with cigarette burns all over her arms. Her alpha claimed it was done ‘in the moment of passion’. And you know what happened?” His laugh is bitter, hollow. “I had to release her back into the asshole’s care even when she pleaded with me not to let her go.”
He braces both hands on the table. His gray eyes blaze with intensity. “If you've got something that can break this system, I'm not just ready. I'm fucking desperate for it.”
The intensity in his eyes tells me we've chosen the right person. He's not just a friend anymore; he's a weapon aimed at the heart of omega oppression. And when he hears about Mira, about Mercer, Hardwick, about the facility masquerading as a research center...
I share a look with Zane and Cole. We're all thinking the same thing: Mira's story couldn't be in better hands.
Time to light the fuse. “What I'm about to tell you starts with an omega named Mira, and it ends with bringing down the entire corrupt system.”
Asher's eyes narrow as he takes his seat. “I'm listening.”
The line between Asher’s brows deepens until it's carved valley-deep in his forehead with each detail I share. His scent grows increasingly acidic as I describe Haven, the Basement Mira was sent to after the deaths of her parents and the punishments Mira faced. White lines appear around his eyes when I detail the scars that map our omega's body.
“A death certificate?” Asher's voice is deadly quiet when I reach that part, each word precise with controlled rage. “Signed by Mercer herself?”
‘“No paperwork to trace. No bodies to find. No case to pursue. It’s convenient to sell omegas at underground auctions when they’re officially dead,” Zane says .
My gaze flows back to Asher from my bond brother's serious face. “Our omega will testify. She's brave. Strong. She’s ready to bring Mercer and Hardwick to justice.” Pride swells in my chest thinking of her courage, her resilience. “She's survived things that would break most people, and she's willing to face them again to stop this.”
Asher leans back, running a hand over his face. His scent carries notes of both determination and frustration. “I believe every word, Adrian. And I'll move heaven and earth to build this case. But...” He sighs heavily, the sound weighted with years of fighting this broken system. “One omega's testimony, under current laws, won't be enough. The system's designed to discredit them. We need more evidence. Alphas like Mercer and Hardwick have too many connections, too much influence. We need to make this absolutely bulletproof.”
“Mira told us two other omegas escaped with her that night,” I say, watching his expression sharpen with interest. “Emma and Leah. They lost contact but she believes they’re still out there. Somewhere.” I remember Mira's words, how they split up to increase their chances of escaping. Three omegas running into the night, carrying their stories of horror with them.
“Two more witnesses,” Asher says, already plotting. “Three testimonies, matching details, independent accounts... That's something we can work with. If we can find them, if they're willing to come forward...” His scent sharpens with purpose.
“We’ll find them. We have access to omega databases they think are secure.” Zane’s smile is razor-sharp. “They won't even know we're looking.”
Cole leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Whatever resources you need, Detective. Money, information, protection… name it. We're all in.”
“There’s one more thing,” I say.
Asher’s brows inch into his hairline “You don’t do things by halves, do you Blackwood?”
“Not recently I don’t.” I huff, then. “We have somewhere else you can start your investigations. An omega who can maybe shed some light. Aubrey Turns. Formally Aubrey Richardson, pack Richardson's omega. Pack Richardson being Thomas Richardson’s omega.” The words taste bitter in my mouth, knowing now what that 'disappearance' really meant.
“Are we talking about the late Thomas Richardson, Haven’s former director? Died about a decade ago? And the omega Aubrey who is now Commissioner Turns omega?” His frown deepens, recognition dawning in his eyes.
“That's him.”
“Fuck.” Asher shakes his head. He gets out of his chair and begins to pace, his hands on his hips. “He’s going to be hard to talk to. I've seen him at department functions. He never speaks unless spoken to. Keeps his eyes on the floor, flinches if anyone moves too quickly.”
“Shit. That sounds like how Mira thought she had to act,” Cole says.
Asher’s gaze burns as it runs over me. “Thomas Richardson’s pack died in a car accident, the same as Mira’s parents. Omega’s behavior modified. If here’s a connection, I’ll find it, but if the Commissioner is involved…this could go higher than we suspect. We'll need to be incredibly careful.”
“That's why we came to you,” I say, meeting his gaze steadily. “You're the only one we trust with this. The only one who can't be bought or threatened into silence.”
“Don’t worry. I'll start quietly,” Asher says, his voice low and intense. “Background checks on accident reports, cross-referencing dates. I've got some contacts in vehicle forensics who owe me favors.” He looks at each of us in turn, his expression deadly serious. “But you need to be careful. All of you. Keep Mira safe. If Hardwick or Mercer realize she's alive...They are very powerful people.”
“I don’t give a fuck who they are. If they lay a finger on Mira, they will die,” I snarl.
“As it should be,” Asher says, confirming why I’ve always liked him.
Asher stands, and we follow suit. His handshake is firm, purposeful. “I'll start building the case. We need to be thorough, airtight. One mistake and they'll bury us.”
I tighten my grip. “We're going to burn their whole fucking system down. No more disappeared omegas. No more hidden abuse. No more. ”
Halfway to the precinct doors, Cole suddenly splays a hand over his chest, his pine scent sharpening. Zane frowns, his hand rising to his chest in the same spot Cole’s fist is clenched. He jerks to a stop at the same time a tremor spears my center. Not physical, but something deeper, more visceral.
A force plucking the string to my soul.
The sensation is different than our pack bond.
The familiar connection still hums, steady and strong, but this... this is something entirely different. An electric current pulses through me, a desperate flutter that makes my whole being tense and alert. My mind snaps to the one source deeper than any connection possible between sentient beings.
It originates from our scent-match.
It links back to Mira.
Simultaneously, we reach the terrible conclusion. We've not bonded yet, but the connection exists. It's likely been building the entire time we've been near her—breathing in her scent, tasting it right off her skin in her perspiration, her slick. She’s already a part of us.
Terror floods us. Purest fear. The kind we promised she'd never experience again.
“Mira,” Zane chokes out. “She's afraid. Really afraid.”
Cole is already moving, his phone in hand, fingers flying over the screen. “She's not answering.” His voice cracks with barely contained panic. “It's going straight to voice mail.”
“We have to get back to the penthouse,” I bark, already running. “Now!”
“I’m coming too,” Asher snarls.
I’m grateful. I’ll take all the males I can as we bolt to our SUV and tear out onto the open road.