Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
SASHA
Flynn is quiet as he steps out of the bathroom the next morning. Not silent—his breathing is a little uneven, his hands fidget at his sides—but quiet in a way that makes my chest ache. It’s the kind of quiet that doesn’t mean peace, just exhaustion. Just survival. And it pisses me off. I want to grab every person who’s ever laid a hand on him and make them feel the same brokenness they caused. But I can’t. Not yet.
I don’t blame him. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he was still trapped in that hellhole, locked away, used, and hurt. Now he’s here, in our home, and even though he’s free, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he keeps expecting something to go wrong. It makes my blood boil. If anyone dares to hurt him again...
I shake the thought away. For now, I have to focus on making him feel safe, even if my gut churns with the need for vengeance.
Levi and Stone are downstairs setting up a nest room while I stay with Flynn, making sure he knows he’s safe, not alone, that he has a warm bed to sleep in. But I know that giving someone a bed isn’t the same as giving them a home. That part takes time. We have no clue when his heat is due or what he’ll want to do, but we want to be prepared for anything. It gives the alphas something to focus on, a distraction, which I know they need. But for now, my focus is on him, and I’ll tear apart anyone who tries to get in the way of that.
“This is all yours,” I say softly, handing him a fresh set of clothes. “I ordered you some extras, toiletries, all the basics. They should get here later today, but if you need anything else, just tell me.”
Flynn hesitates, his fingers curling slightly around the fabric. His eyes dart around the room—simple, warm, safe—but I can tell he doesn’t believe that yet. Not really. The rot in his orange scent has faded, but the undercurrent still makes my nose twitch. It makes me furious. The fact that someone made him doubt something as basic as safety. I want to scream, to hunt down every person who played a part in breaking him, but I know I can’t.
“You don’t have to stay in your room all day,” I add when he doesn’t move. “I know alphas can be… a lot. But Levi and Stone won’t push you. Neither will I. This is your space now, Flynn. No one’s going to take it from you.”
Slowly, carefully, he nods. His posture is tense, every movement small and controlled like he’s afraid of taking up too much space. I want to grab him, tell him it’s okay, but I know better than to force it.
“Soft,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
Soft. God, they made him believe that softness is something to be cherished. I’ll show him softness, make sure it’s something he never has to question again.
I smile. “Yeah. We can change anything you don’t like, though. The sheets, the pillows?—”
“No,” Flynn interrupts quickly, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I—I like it.”
That’s the closest thing to comfort I’ve seen in him since we got him out. My chest tightens, but I don’t push. Instead, I set his new phone down on the dresser. “I set this up for you. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to, but if you ever need anything—me, Levi, Stone—it’s there.”
Flynn stares at it for a long time before nodding. “Okay.” The simple word feels like progress.
I can feel that familiar rush of protectiveness, that urge to make sure no one ever harms him again, but I bury it under a layer of calm. They’ll pay, every one of them. But not yet. Not until he’s strong enough to stand beside us.
I don’t try to force a conversation. I can feel the exhaustion rolling off of him. See the way he’s struggling to process everything. So I step back toward the common area and say, “I’ll let you be. Just come find me if you need anything, alright?”
Flynn hesitates, but nods. “Thank you.”
And even though the words are quiet, they mean something.
The next few hours pass quietly. I check in on Flynn from a distance, making sure he eats, making sure he’s drinking water, but mostly, I let him breathe. I could strangle anyone who’s ever made him feel like he has to tiptoe around the world, like he’s a thing to be handled with care. I don’t make a sound, don’t let anyone see the storm inside me.
Levi stays back too, which I know is hard for him. My mate is patient, but his alpha instincts are riding him hard to comfort Flynn, to make sure he feels safe. Stone’s the same way, though he’s better at hiding it. But I know them. I know they both want to do something, anything to make Flynn feel at ease. For now, though, it’s better that they hold back.
By early afternoon, I bring Flynn the new barrage of clothes—ones that I ordered to make him feel more at ease, soft and comfortable, nothing too heavy or anything that might remind him of being restrained. I also bring him a cup of tea. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing patterns into the comforter again. I don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. It’s like his body is searching for something familiar, something to hold onto.
I set the tea down on the nightstand. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” I say gently. “But I’m here if you do.”
Flynn’s fingers still against the fabric. For a long moment, I think he’s going to stay quiet, but then he says, “It’s hard.”
I stay still, letting him decide if he wants to continue. He does.
“Letting someone in,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Trusting that this isn’t just… another trick.”
My throat tightens, but I don’t let my face show it. Inside, I’m roaring. Every person who’s hurt him, who’s lied to him, who’s used him—I’m coming for them. But not now. Not until he’s strong enough. Not until I know he’s truly safe.
“I get that,” I say honestly. “No one expects you to just… believe us overnight. But we’re not going anywhere, Flynn. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”
Flynn exhales shakily. “I don’t know how to stop.”
“Stop?”
“Being afraid.” His hands clench into fists against his lap. “I keep waiting for the moment where everything goes wrong again.”
I nod slowly, biting back the growl that’s threatening to rise. “I can’t promise you that things will be easy. I won’t lie to you about that. But I can promise you that you’re safe here. That we’ll fight for you.”
Flynn looks down at me then, something raw and uncertain in his eyes. “Why?”
I don’t hesitate. “Because you deserve it.”
He swallows hard, looking away. I don’t push him, just let the words settle. After a moment, he whispers, “Thank you.” And I know he means it. But I’ll make sure he never has to thank anyone for keeping him safe again. Not as long as I breathe.
Levi finds me a little later, lingering near Flynn’s door. He smells like tension—his usual leather scent pulled tight, like a whip ready to snap.
That’s good. It means he’ll protect Flynn. And if anyone tries to hurt him again… I’ll be waiting.
I step closer, brushing my fingers over his arm. “He’s okay,” I murmur.
Levi sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I fucking hate that he feels like he needs to protect himself from being hurt again.”
I nod, holding him steady. “He’s been through hell, Levi. But he’s here now. And he’s starting to trust us. Bit by bit.”
Levi exhales slowly. “I want to do right by him.”
I smile, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “You will.”
Levi nods, then takes a step back. “I’m gonna check in on him.”
I watch as he knocks gently on the door before stepping inside. Flynn looks up from the bed as Levi enters. I lurk near the doorway, just in case he needs an easy exit, but he doesn’t tense like he did before. Progress. I’m glad to see it, but I’ll keep my eye on him.
“Hey,” Levi says softly. “Just wanted to see how you’re holding up.”
Flynn hesitates, then nods. “Better. I think.”
Levi’s expression softens. He takes a careful step closer, keeping his movements slow, giving Flynn plenty of space. “Good. That’s good.”
Flynn shifts slightly, glancing down at the tea on the nightstand. “Sasha said I don’t have to do this alone.”
“You don’t,” Levi agrees, his voice low and certain. “You never have to be alone again, Flynn.”
Flynn swallows hard. His fingers curl into the blanket again, but he doesn’t look away this time. “I don’t know how to be… part of something.”
Levi nods, stepping closer, then kneels in front of him. “Then we’ll figure it out together.”
Something in Flynn’s expression shifts—uncertainty, hope, fear. But he doesn’t flinch away and I don’t notice any change in his scent. And that’s enough for now.