35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Emma
T hree days pass, wrapped in warmth and comfort.
Three days since I claimed Asher, since I sank my teeth into his skin and broke the chains that tethered me to Pack Carmichael.
My mind still struggles to believe how his bond burned them away, leaving only golden peace and alphas who desire my heart, not my submission.
Joy radiates from Asher, constant and vivid, filtering into my heart like warm molasses. Through him, whispers of Phoenix and Soren drift across our tangled bonds, their desire quietly clear.
They long for their claiming, their turn beneath my teeth, their bonds woven deeply with mine. But I wait, even though the sharp, hopeful anticipation from both men pierces softly into my heart. They deserve moments equally sacred, equally right.
Not yet.
A tension snakes through our days and nights, beneath every moment of laughter.
We feel it, waiting, vivid as an unspoken warning.
Until we find answers, danger shadows us constantly.
The commissioner has put more pressure on them.
Maybe because of that, they never leave me alone. Never move far from my side.
Phoenix and I comb the beach together, warm salt-spray clinging to my skin, laughing as waves bring new treasures to add to my jar.
Soren invites me into the kitchen each night, quiet smiles and gentle encouragement as we prepare dinner.
He shows me spices I’ve never seen and teaches me how to chop vegetables in precise shapes.
And Asher watches over me, quiet yet aware, his warm, possessive gaze lingering.
Together we cook, walk, laugh.
They pull out board games at night, inviting me deeper into their lives.
Stories unfurl, room by room, opening doors into themselves they want me to know.
Phoenix embellishes tales of their early days when they’d just formed their pack, despite corrections from Soren.
As each hour unfolds, warmth seeps into my bones, seamless ease flowing between us.
Their gentle touches no longer provoke fear. Instead, I ache for them. I crave the brush of fingers on my waist, palms gliding down my back, lingering lips grazing the tender skin of my neck.
We make love daily, freely and sweetly.
I learn the taste of their mouths, the shape of their bodies beneath my palms, their whispered praises hot against my skin.
But even as we unite each day, an unsettling awareness hovers at the edge of my consciousness.
Despite my thickening scent, I've had no heat signs.
Even bonding Asher didn't unleash my dormant heat. Everything has simply…gone away.
I'm a ticking time bomb, uncertain and dangerous .
Perhaps more unsettling, though, is what still lies unspoken. They opened themselves completely, giving me their histories, their laughter, their vulnerabilities. Yet I've remained silent, hoarding memories too dark to share.
They feel my closed doors. My walls. Yet none of them push or rush me. They want my healing, not my pain, and each moment spent in their warmth and patience helps me understand exactly what being scent-matched means.
This emotional tangle, feeling safe yet fragile, wholeheartedly loved yet cautiously guarded, is both exhilarating and terrifying but each day strengthens our bonds, shapes foundations of trust, and knits us ever tighter despite the dark clouds hanging over our heads.
Now I know how much I will lose if Pack Carmichael steal me back.
I don’t think I’d survive it.
I step into the kitchen, my skin still carrying the warmth of sunshine and ocean spray from a walk with Phoenix.
The salt-tinged joy fades at the low urgent tone of Asher’s voice as he leans against the island bench with one of our untraceable phones to his ear.
I freeze mid-step as Asher’s body goes rigid.
His fingers tighten on the phone, tension coiling through his broad shoulders.
“Adrian, slow down.” Asher glances up and meets my eyes, a shadow passing over his expression before he schools his features. “We’re all here now. Might as well tell us once.”
He places the phone on the granite countertop and turns on speaker. I edge closer, my pulse racing, nerves winding tight around my spine, knowing that nothing good is going to come of this conversation.
“I’m sorry to deliver news like this, but Carl Jones's body was pulled out of the Mercy River early this morning,” Adrian says. “Estimated time of death is two days ago.”
I brace against the countertop, my fingers gripping the hard, cool edge until they ache from the pressure. Asher places a steadying palm on my chilled body.
“But that's just the beginning. Cole's already hacked into the backend of their police investigation report… your names are listed right at the top of their current suspect pool. ”
Phoenix curses. “We left him alive back at the compound. Unconscious, but definitely breathing.”
My alphas left him there on the kitchen floor after Phoenix took his phone.
His phone.
My breath catches. Could he have been killed because of us? Because Phoenix found evidence that first revealed the existence of Alpha1465?
“Adrian, is there mention of evidence? Anything concrete?” Asher asks, bringing me back to the moment I wish wasn’t happening.
Adrian exhales heavily. “The report is vague about specifics. It mentions eyewitness accounts placing you at the scene. A match with your fingerprints, but anyone with half a brain knows that’s where you were stationed and that you were ambushed.
The report is thin and calculated but just enough to aim suspicion right at you. Right at Emma, too.”
“Me?”
“Relax Butterfly. Anyone would be insane to think you could render a fully grown male unconscious. This is obviously fabricated, and we’re being framed,” Soren says.
“Stay alert out there. We'll keep digging and let you know if we find anything more.” Adrian cuts the call, leaving the kitchen heavy with silence saturated by dread.
I lean into Asher, letting his strength ground me as his arms wrap protectively around me.
Yet, for the first time since we arrived here, even the safety and heat of his embrace can't fully erase the net closing in around us. Something shifts in my peripheral vision, snagging my attention on Soren’s open laptop.
The screen displays footage of three figures I know intimately. They are lounging on deep, leather sofa chairs in a room I saw only once on that horrible day my alphas dragged me, starved and delirious with fear, from the basement. Matthew. Derek. James.
My stomach lurches and everything around me fades to icy static as my eyes lock on the screen.
I'm embraced by crisp sandalwood as Soren turns my face gently but firmly away from the view.
He pushes my nose against his neck, guiding me straight to his scent gland, filling my senses with clean, calming reassurance that cuts straight through the fear.
“I'm sorry, Emma. I should have warned you I was monitoring them.” His hand curls protectively around my head, holding me carefully.
My tremors slow, warmth seeping into my bones as two more bodies cage me between them.
Phoenix's coffee weaves seamlessly into Asher's rich leather.
Low purrs vibrate against my skin, steady rhythms grounding me.
Their touches push away the cold clawing tendrils of memory, bringing me back to the present and grounding me fully in their warmth.
I draw a deep breath. Their scents, their steady heartbeats, soothe the edges of panic, reminding me that the Carmichaels' bitter, frayed bonds no longer own space inside me.
Their insistence on taking me back doesn't make sense, and now this . “Why won't they let me go? Why do they want me so badly? What good am I to them now? Why don't they just give up?”
Violent emotion ripples through our bonds as silence clings to them, heavy and uneasy. The answer comes to me slowly, knowledge dark and ugly clicking into place.
“They think I know something incriminating about them,” I whisper, swallowing hard. “I do. They bought me at an auction. Kept me captive. Abused me for years. That's more than enough evidence against them.”
“It should be.” Quiet anger bleeds heavily into Asher’s voice.
He lifts a gentle palm, cupping my cheek carefully, despite the harshness of his words.
“But your word as an omega won't count if it goes to court.
They'll twist it, invalidate you, dismiss the evidence outright. To be so persistent they must believe you have something more concrete. Something that would actually destroy them.”
Helplessness creeps back through me, frustration bubbling beneath my skin. I search their serious gazes, pleading silently for clarity.
Soren brushes his fingers through my hair. “There has to be something else you know, Emma. Something hidden, something powerful enough they're willing to destroy us all to silence you. ”
I close my eyes, their quiet certainty pressing heavily into my heart.
Searching my memories is overwhelming, painful scraps of darkness scattered among false tenderness.
What could a chained omega hidden in darkness for years know that would threaten alphas so much that they're prepared to go to war for my silence?
“I'm sorry. I just don't know,” I say.
Phoenix's palm slides slowly down my arm, fingers slipping through mine, threading our hands together. “Not yet, Tough Girl. But we'll help you find it. Whatever you're holding will end this for good.”
Even shaking my head, something deep inside whispers that whatever secret I've kept unknowingly hidden, someone very powerful is afraid of it getting out.
Whatever it may be, it's hidden inside shadows. But I’m not alone anymore.
I have my scent-matched mates supporting me and with their strength, I'll finally uncover what they're so desperate to hide.
I take a steeling breath, knowing how fully I’m going to have to bare my soul. “I’ll tell you everything about me. I’ll tell you everything you need to know. If I don’t see something there, then perhaps you will.”
Asher's voice is a deep, soothing rumble. “Emma, you don't owe us anything you're not ready to give. You don't have to relive anything uncomfortable. We'll find other ways to get answers.”
His protectiveness warms my heart from the inside out, but it isn't fair. How can I rely on their strength, on promises they keep giving freely, yet shelter myself away from truths they desperately need?
“This is mine to share. Mine to face. You all deserve to know about me, especially now that…” My voice ends on a soft whisper, my cheeks warming, fragile but certain. “Especially now that I'm falling in love with all of you.”
A breath of stunned silence stretches between us. Asher freezes, eyes widening. Even Soren holds still. Before I can second-guess the overwhelming truth I just voiced, Phoenix leaps forward with a whoop of delighted laughter, radiant joy lighting his handsome face.
“You said it! You seriously said you're falling in love with us!” He sweeps me into his arms, spinning me around in dizzying circles .
I can't help smiling, the world twirling as I clutch his shoulders. Phoenix sets me down gently and cups my face in warm hands. His kiss is bright, joyful, breathtaking in its excitement. “Damn right, Tough Girl. You're ours!”
Before I catch my breath, gentle hands turn me. Then Soren is there, his steady gaze shimmering. He cups the back of my head, tilting my face upwards, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss as deep and certain as morning sunlight. “You're everything, Butterfly,” he whispers against my lips. “Always.”
Asher’s kiss is searing. His fierce intensity sizzles under the tenderness in his touch. My body melts beneath the heat, craving him, needing him desperately. When he finally ends the kiss, resting his forehead to mine, my heart pounds wildly.
I must do this. I have to face my deepest fears now because whatever it is I can’t remember affects them. “I need you to know. About what they did to me and everything I've buried. If they want me this much, perhaps the four of us can work it out.”
Asher studies me, then nods, accepting. “All right, Moonbeam. But if you feel uneasy about anything, we’ll stop. We won’t make you say anything you don’t want to.”
I know they won’t, which is all the more reason I need them to know.
Asher scoops me into his arms, carrying me to the sofa and settling me on his lap, arranging me close to his heartbeat.
His warmth and solid strength seep into me like an anchor, calming my nerves like the best kind of drug.
Phoenix and Soren settle beside us, each one gently holding, touching, grounding me, as I pull in a deep breath and start to talk.