Chapter 31 – FELIX
Chapter
Thirty-One
FELIX
T he dice hit the coffee table with a clatter that makes me want to stab something. Preferably the dice. Or maybe Carlisle, who's currently explaining the rules of some complicated board game with the enthusiasm of a serial killer describing his favorite knife collection.
"So if you roll a seven, you can either move forward or activate your special ability," he says, holding up a card covered in tiny text that makes my eyes bleed just looking at it. "Unless someone has played a counter-spell, in which case?—"
"This is fucking ridiculous," Juniper interrupts, but she's grinning as she snatches the dice from his hand. "Why can't we just play Monopoly like normal people?"
"Because Monopoly is for peasants," Carlisle replies smoothly. "This is Ruin of the Dragons . It's sophisticated."
"It's pretentious bullshit is what it is." She rolls anyway, and of course gets exactly what she needs because the universe bends to her will when it comes to games of chance. "Ha! Suck it, British boy. I'm taking your dragon stables."
I watch from my corner of the couch, pretending to read but really just observing the chaos.
The suppressants Elias gave me are working better than anything I've had before—my omega scent so muted I can't even detect it myself.
Six months of freedom, he said. Six months of not having to worry about being exposed, being vulnerable, being exactly what I've spent years trying not to be.
But Juniper... fuck, Juniper's a different story.
Her scent fills the room like smoke from a fire you can't see but know is burning somewhere close.
Sweet flowers mixed with something deeper, richer, more intense than it should be.
She had a heat recently, but her body's already ramping up again, omega instincts in overdrive despite the suppressants she's taking.
Probably because I couldn't satisfy her properly. The thought tastes like acid, burning all the way down. A real alpha could have helped her through it, could have given her what she needed.
"Your turn, Doctor," Juniper chirps, passing the dice to Elias with a smile that makes something in my soul ache.
She's comfortable here. Relaxed in a way she never was when it was just us against the world. These alphas have given her something I never could despite my best attempts—safety without the constant need to look over her shoulder.
"I believe I'll explore the courtyard," Elias says after his roll, moving his piece with the kind of care you'd expect from someone who treats everything like surgery.
"Bad move," Archer warns from his spot on the floor, because apparently sitting in chairs is too mainstream for him. "The courtyard is cursed."
"I live dangerously," Elias deadpans, drawing a card.
Juniper cackles at whatever's written on it, leaning over to read despite it being against the rules. Her hair falls forward, and Bane unconsciously leans closer, drawn by her scent like a moth to flame. He catches himself, pulls back, but not before I see the hunger flash across his scarred face.
They all want her. Every fucking one of them pulled taut with the need to claim what biology says is theirs. But they hold back, maintain their distance, keep their hands to themselves even though it must be killing them.
"Felix."
I look up to find Bane standing over me, and when the fuck did he move? The man's the size of a mountain but moves like smoke when he wants to.
"Yeah?"
"Can I borrow you for a minute?" His tone is casual but there's something in his eyes that says this isn't really a question. "Juniper mentioned you know cars. Got something in the garage that could use another set of eyes and I'm all out of cards."
I glance at Juniper, but she's too busy gloating over apparently bankrupting Carlisle in whatever twisted economic system this game uses to notice. Her cheeks are flushed with victory, eyes bright with the kind of joy that comes from absolutely destroying someone at something trivial.
She's happy. Genuinely happy. And she hasn't glanced at the corners looking at shadows that aren't really there all evening.
"Sure," I say, setting my book aside.
The garage is exactly what you'd expect, organized to the point of obsession, tools that cost a small fortune, and vehicles that definitely aren't street legal. Bane leads me to a military vehicle that looks like it's seen better decades, maybe fought in wars that aren't in history books yet.
"Transmission's fucked," he says, popping the hood. "Can't get it to engage properly."
I lean in, immediately seeing the problem. The whole engine block is falling apart. This thing's been dead longer than it's been alive, but I grab a wrench anyway, start poking around like there's something to save.
"This is a lost cause," I tell him, but I keep working because my hands need something to do. So does my brain.
"I know." He leans against the workbench, arms crossed, watching me with those hazel eyes that see too much. "But it seemed like you needed to get out of there."
"I was fine."
"Sure you were." He's quiet for a moment, just the sound of metal on metal filling the space. "She's doing well here."
My hand slips, the wrench clanging against the engine block. "Yeah."
"Must be different from what you're used to. Having backup."
I straighten up, meeting his gaze directly. "What's your point?"
"No point. Just an observation." He picks up a socket wrench, examines it like it holds some ancient knowledge. "How long have you two been together?"
"Seven years." The words come out before I can stop them. Something about the garage, the mundane task of pretending to fix something unfixable, makes it easier to talk. "Met her at the worst place imaginable."
"And where's that? If you don't mind my asking," he adds.
My jaw clenches. "The Serpents' Den. Ever heard of it?"
"No."
"Point for your character, I guess." I go back to the engine, needing something to focus on besides the memories clawing at my throat. "It was... imagine every nightmare about omega trafficking rolled into one building. The owner, Evan, he had particular tastes. Liked them young, broken, scared."
"Sounds like hell." I don't look up, but I can hear the disgust in his voice and imagine it's echoed on his face.
"It was." I pull out a part that's more rust than metal, examine it like it matters. "But I found an angel there."
The memory hits me sideways—Juniper, brought in kicking and screaming and biting anyone who got close. They'd drugged her, beaten her, tried everything to break her, but she kept fighting. Even when they threw her in the hole for a week with no food, she came out swinging.
"I'd been there my whole life," I continue, surprising myself with the honesty. "My brother owned the place, but I didn't exactly get special treatment. Though I guess it depends on your perspective."
Bane's knuckles are white where he's gripping the wrench, but he doesn't interrupt.
"Juniper was different from the others. She saw things, heard voices, but she also saw through the bullshit. Saw through my act." I laugh, but it's bitter as burnt coffee. "I was supposed to keep an eye on her. She was my brother's favorite, an 'honor' that came with a fate worse than death."
"But you got her out."
"I got us both out." The distinction matters. "Took three years of planning, gathering resources, learning skills. But I promised her we'd leave together or not at all. And I keep my promises."
"But that's not all you promised."
I look up sharply, but there's no judgment in his eyes. Just understanding. Knowing.
"No," I admit. "It's not."
The need for revenge burns in my chest like acid, eating away at everything soft, everything good. Evan's still out there, still running his empire of misery, still breathing when he should be choking on his own blood.
"I want him dead," I say simply. "My brother. I want to watch the light leave his eyes. Want him to know it was me who took everything from him."
"Understandable."
"But Juniper comes first. Always. Making sure she's safe, that she's okay, that's what matters." I grip the wrench hard enough my knuckles crack. "And she is safe here. Safer than she's ever been with just me."
I can see it in the way she laughs without looking over her shoulder, the way she sleeps through the night without waking up screaming, the way she's started nesting even though she doesn't realize that's what she's doing.
These alphas have given her something I never could—a home instead of just a hiding place.
"You're thinking about leaving." It's not a question.
"Eventually." The word tastes like glass. "When I know she's settled, when I know she's truly safe. I'll go handle what needs handling."
"And if you don't come back?" he challenges, his arms folded over his broad chest.
I shrug. "Then at least she's free." I set down the wrench, wipe my hands on a rag that's more grease than fabric. "She deserves better than being tied to someone who's more ghost than person anyway."
"That's bullshit and you know it."
The vehemence in his voice makes me look up. Bane's not looking at me anymore, staring at something only he can see.
"I know that look," he continues. "Had it myself for years after my partner was killed. That emptiness that says you're already dead, just waiting for your body to catch up. The way revenge becomes the only thing that feels real anymore."
"Then you understand," I say pointedly.
"I understand it'll eat you alive. Take you places you never wanted to go, turn you into something you never wanted to be.
" He finally looks at me, and there's a weight in his gaze that speaks to roads traveled and prices paid.
"I became someone I didn't recognize, hunting down the people responsible.
And when it was over, when I'd painted walls with their blood, you know what I felt? "
I wait.
"Nothing. Just empty. Because revenge doesn't bring anyone back. Doesn't fix what's broken. Just leaves you with more ghosts."
"I might be able to let go of what was done to me," I say slowly, each word pulled out like a tooth.
"For her sake. But what was done to her?
The things she went through, the things she still sees when she closes her eyes?
No. That debt needs to be paid. And as long as my brother is alive, she'll never be safe. Not really. Not the way she deserves"
Bane sighs, running a hand through his hair.
"I get it. More than you know. You think I ended up doing this because I like playing hero?
I was a cop, a good one. Worked inside the system for years trying to make a difference.
But there are people out there the law can't touch, places where justice doesn't reach.
So I made a choice. Stepped outside the lines. "
"And?"
"And it cost me." He straightens up, brushing off his hands.
"Nothing I wasn't willing to pay, but it cost a lot.
Look, I'm not going to talk you out of anything, Felix.
But I want you to consider something—Juniper needs you.
Not some idealized version of you, not you after you've gotten your revenge, but you. As you are."
"I can't be what she needs." The admission tears something inside me. "Not as long as he's alive. Not with that shadow hanging over everything. Maybe when it's done, if I survive, I can try to be part of..." I gesture vaguely at the house, at what they're offering. "This. But not before."
"And if something happens to you? What then?"
"Then you take care of her." I meet his gaze directly. "That's what I need to know. That she'll be safe, protected, loved. That she'll have a pack even if I'm not in it."
Bane is quiet for a long moment, processing. Finally, he nods. "We'd die before we let anything happen to her. All of us."
"Good."
I turn back to the engine, pretending to examine something that's clearly beyond saving. "This thing's completely fucked, by the way. You'd need to replace basically everything. Probably cheaper to just buy a new vehicle."
Bane chuckles, but it's sad around the edges. "Yeah, I figured. Worth a shot though."
I wipe my hands off, toss the rag on the workbench. The conversation's over, we both know it. I've said more than I meant to, revealed more than I should have. But something about this place, these people, makes me careless with my secrets.
For Juniper, that security is a blessing. For me, it's a liability.
I head for the door, needing to get back before Juniper notices I'm gone and comes looking. But Bane's voice stops me.
"Felix."
I pause without turning around.
"You've got a place here. With the pack. As whatever you want to be. Alpha, beta, omega, doesn't matter. No one's going to force you to take it, but it's there. Whenever you're ready."
I stand there for a moment, the weight of the offer settling on my shoulders like a blanket I'm not sure I deserve. Then I walk out without a word, leaving him alone with his broken vehicle and the echo of promises I'm not sure I can keep.
The house feels warmer when I step back inside, filled with the sound of Juniper's laughter and Carlisle's dramatic protests about being cheated at his own game.
I stand in the doorway for a moment, watching her.
She's got her legs tucked under her, leaning forward as she moves her game piece with the kind of concentration usually reserved for defusing bombs.
She's glowing. Happy. Safe.
Everything I’ve ever wanted for her, even if I'm not the one who can give it to her.