8. Chapter Eight #2
Asher’s gaze follows my scratching. He clenches his jaw and then the intensity of his emotions wane until the bond barely prickles. He’s reining in his emotions. Muting them. For me. I almost stagger as the weight lifts and I can finally take a deep breath.
My hands shake as I clutch the blanket tighter. Damn these bullshit omega instincts making me think soft material is hard armor.
A nurse rushes in with a small pile of clothing. “I'm sorry,” she says, setting them on the sink. “It's all I could find at short notice.”
I don’t care if this is the best she can find even with longer notice. She holds real clothing, not just a hospital gown. Jeans. A soft sweater. Shoes. Dignity I'd forgotten existed.
“We'll give you privacy,” Asher says, ushering the other alphas out, Adrian included. The door closes with a soft click, and I'm alone with Mira.
“I'm scared,” I admit as she helps me dress. The fabric is strange against my skin after wearing “grime chic” for so long.
“Give them a chance, Emma. For your own good.” Mira's voice is gentle but firm. “They're your scent-matches. They physically can't hurt you. It would hurt them too. They'll do everything they can to protect you. ”
“I don't want to be owned again.” The words catch in my throat as I pull the sweater over my head.
As soon as I can, I’ll tattoo ‘never again’ across my forehead as a fuck-off sign to any interested alpha. I’ll inscribe it deep enough into my skin to crack my skull if that’s what it takes.
Mira's hands still as she helps me with my shoes. “Being scent-matched isn't being owned. Pack Mitchell is nothing like the Carmichaels. If Asher says he'll put Pack Carmichael away, then I believe him. You're in good hands.”
I might think I was if it weren’t for the stolen bite on my neck.
Mira squeezes my fingers. “I'm only a phone call away.”
“I don't own a phone,” I point out, the absurdity of the statement almost making me laugh. Own a phone? Sure. I would have called emergency services two years ago and saved myself a long trip to hell.
Mira reaches into her bag and pulls out a box. “I knew you wouldn't. This is for you. I’ve put my number in the contacts. Call anytime, day or night.”
I’m sure the smile I send her is as watery as my eyes. “I can call you? Any time night or day? And no one will stop me?”
“Yes… Emma, you don’t have to live with restrictions anymore.
I know how hard it is, but it’s true. It might not feel like it, but you’re free.
Things are changing. Just…give Asher and his pack a chance.
For your own sake if nothing else.” Her hug is fierce, and we cling to each other.
Eventually Mira releases me. “I’m not going anywhere, Emma. And you’re not either.”
I nod at her. She turns to look at her alpha and the smile on her face is real and genuine, and the smallest flutter eases through me at that look.
She’s not only found alphas who care for her, but she’s fallen in love with them.
It makes it a little easier to take the step away from her I know I must take, clutching the phone to my chest.
Things move quickly after that. Dr. Chen appears with discharge papers and medications.
Asher takes the bottles, listening intently to every word.
Soren secures the corridor, half in and half out of the room.
Phoenix explains the transport plan in a voice that asks permission rather than gives orders .
I'm struck by the strangeness of it all, and by the time we're ready to leave, my legs are trembling with fatigue. My brief burst of strength is fading, my body reminding me how broken it still is. The thought of walking to whatever transport they've arranged is impossible, but I’m going to try.
“Let me carry you,” Asher offers, stepping forward with careful movements.
“No.” I skate backward. The word comes out sharper than I intend.
A large part of me wants nothing more than to sink into his arms again, to breathe in that comforting scent, to feel that purr vibrate through my bones.
And that's exactly why I can't let him touch me. That path leads nowhere I want to be.
I straighten my spine, ignoring the protest of muscles that haven't been properly used in years. I’m determined to savor every stride not confined by the length of a chain. “I want to walk.”
Tension tightens his shoulders, but he inclines his head and moves aside.
Not far enough to stop him from touching me, but enough to let me pass.
I don’t overthink it. I brush past the alphas on shaky legs, forcing one foot in front of the other.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Each step a victory.
Each movement a declaration: I am still here. I am still fighting.
The hospital room door opens to reveal a corridor lined with armed officers in tactical gear. I come to a stumbling halt, my heart leaping into my throat. At least a dozen men, weapons visible, faces grim.
“They're here for your protection,” Asher rumbles from behind me, his voice gentle. “They're all betas. Not one alpha in the bunch. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Said the lion to his prey, yet the knowledge helps.
These men are still large, still intimidating, with their bulletproof vests and stern expressions, but there's something different about beta energy.
Less predatory. Less triggering. My parents were both beta and they loved me right up until the day they died.
Mira slips her arm through mine. “I'm right here. And you've got four alphas at your back who would tear apart anyone who tried to hurt you.”
It takes everything I have to start walking. The corridor is endless, but Mira's presence anchors me to the present, keeps me from sliding into panic .
Black scorch marks mar the previously pristine walls. A smear of blood stains the floor near what looks like bullet holes. Evidence of violence. Of battle. My stomach turns as I realize how close they came. How close I came to being dragged back to that basement.
“They made it this far?” I whisper.
“We never would have let them get to you,” Soren says quietly.
But they nearly did. The thought makes my knees weak.
All these armed officers, all these alphas, just to protect one broken omega.
The short walk takes more out of me than I want to admit.
Each movement becomes heavier than the last. My vision blurs around the edges as we approach the elevator.
Just a little farther. Just a few more steps. I can do this. I can—
My legs buckle. Before I can hit the floor, strong arms sweep me up. Dark amber and black coffee scents bloom around me, the amber more honeyed the longer he holds me. Phoenix.
“Whoa there, Tough Girl,” he says, his blue eyes kind as he adjusts me in his arms. “Save your strength for the important stuff, like deciding which takeout we order later.”
“I can walk,” I protest weakly, embarrassment burning my cheeks.
“Of course you can,” he agrees easily. “Just like I can bench press a car if I really need to. Doesn't mean it's not stupid to try when there's a perfectly good tow truck available.” He winks. “That's me, by the way. The tow truck.”
I stare at Phoenix, processing that he's made a joke. An actual joke. My mind scrambles to reconcile this gentle teasing with everything I know about alphas. His drugging scent wraps around me like a buffer against panic, somehow making it impossible for terror to fully take hold.
The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime. Asher turns to the line of officers. “Take the stairs. Meet us in the foyer. Full perimeter guard.”
We move toward the elevator, but it quickly becomes clear it's too small for all six of us. Mira glances at Adrian, then at me.
“I'll see you soon,” she promises, wrapping me in one last hug. “Call me, okay? Anytime. ”
Before I can respond, she steps back, and suddenly I'm alone in the elevator with three enormous alphas. The doors slide closed, and their combined scents intensify in the confined space. Each breath fills my lungs with their markers. An unnatural heaviness swells in my abdomen and extends between my legs. It’s heat, but languid heat without scorching ferocity.
I'm acutely aware of their physicality. Asher's broad shoulders as he stands protectively in front of me, Soren's controlled stillness to my right, Phoenix's solid warmth as he holds me. Each one towers over me, could overpower me in seconds, could—
“We'll go directly to the SUV. Police escort front and back. It’s about a fifteen-minute drive to the compound,” Asher says, breaking into my spiraling thoughts. “Nothing will happen to you while you’re with us.”
Yet it already has in the form of another permanent mark on my skin.
The elevator doors open to reveal a bustling hospital foyer.
Before I can process the crowd, they're moving in perfect synchronization.
Phoenix continues to carry me as Asher and Soren flank us, creating a wall of alpha protection that parts the crowd like water.
People scuttle out of the way, no alpha bark needed for this wall of flesh.
Outside, a black SUV waits, doors already open.
Asher slides behind the wheel, Soren taking the passenger seat. Phoenix climbs into the back, still holding me.
“You're safer in my lap,” he explains, pulling the seatbelt across both of us. “Better shock absorption if anything happens.” He says it lightly, but I see the seriousness in his eyes, feel the tension in his body. It’s so tempting to let down my guard around him. So easy, but that path is dangerous.
Too dangerous.
I stay in his lap because I don’t know these alphas and I won’t do anything to upset them.
Let them think I’m a meek omega. Lull them into a false sense of security where they’ll let down their guard and then I’ll slip away where they’ll never find me.
I’ll use this safe house as a stepping stone to my freedom.
The motor purrs to life and as our convoy pulls away from the curb, the city flashes past outside the window. I focus on what’s outside the window instead of the muscular thighs beneath me, the strong arms and false safety of his panty-melting scent.
I focus on the tall buildings. The traffic lights.
People going about their normal lives. It’s all so strange.
They’ve been living their lives while I’ve been endlessly imprisoned.
Lives being lived while mine was stolen.
It's been so long since I've seen the outside world that it’s surreal, like watching a movie about someone else's life.
“Where are we?” I have no idea where we are. “What city is this?”
This could be any city, in any country. After the auction, I was drugged for transport. I have no recollection how long that was for. My next coherent thought after that spectacular experience was waking up chained in the basement. My new luxurious home until the end of my miserable life.
A heavy silence fills the SUV. Soren turns in his seat, brow furrowed. “You don't know where you are?”
“They never told me. I guess they didn't think it mattered.” I shrug. Knowing the reason doesn't make it easier to say. “Not like they planned to let me leave that basement.”
Something dark passes between the three alphas.
The scent in the SUV sharpens with controlled rage.
Every muscle in my body tightens and I’m one second from leaping out the door no matter how fast we’re flying down an expressway, but Phoenix just nudges my temple gently with his nose, his hands making soothing circles on my back.
“We're not mad at you, sweetheart. None of this is your fault.” His voice drops lower. “But now we're going to have to come up with an even more colorful way to make Pack Carmichael pay for what they've done to you.”
“Canton City,” Asher grinds out between clenched teeth. “You're in Canton City, Emma. And I promise you'll never be locked away in the dark again.”