16. Eliana
ELIANA
T he fire crackled in the stone hearth, casting dancing shadows across the cabin's rustic walls. I pulled my oversized sweater tighter around my curvy frame, tucking my legs beneath me on the worn leather couch. The scent of pine and woodsmoke filled the air, mingling with the lingering aroma of the venison stew we'd shared for dinner. My stomach was still pleasantly full, the warmth of the meal settling into my bones alongside the heat from the fireplace.
Kael sat across from me in his usual armchair, his massive frame making the sturdy furniture look almost delicate. At six-foot-four with shoulders that could block out the sun, he was an intimidating presence even in relaxation. His dark hair had grown longer during our month-long isolation, falling across his forehead in a way that softened his permanent scowl. The stubble on his jaw caught the firelight as he nursed a mug of coffee, his dark eyes fixed on the flames.
Rhys had claimed the other end of the couch, his long legs stretched out, one arm draped along the back cushions. Even sitting, he had to duck slightly to avoid the low-hanging beam above. His sandy brown hair was tousled, and those green eyes that could charm any omega held a gentle warmth as he watched me fidget with my sleeves. There was something fluid about the way he moved, even in stillness—like a predator at rest, but one that meant no harm.
Fen occupied the wooden chair he'd pulled from the kitchen table, his compact but sturdy build making him appear more grounded than his alpha companions. His brown hair was neat despite the casual evening, and those perceptive hazel eyes missed nothing as they flicked between the three of us. He had that quiet efficiency about him, the kind of beta who noticed everything and said just enough.
The storm that had trapped us here for the past month raged on outside, wind howling through the trees with a ferocity that reminded me why we'd taken shelter in this remote cabin in the first place. What was supposed to be a brief stopover during our research expedition had turned into an extended cohabitation when the weather reports warned of a three-month siege.
I could taste the nervousness on my tongue, metallic and sharp, as I worked up the courage to speak. My hands trembled slightly as I set down my own mug of herbal tea—chamomile with honey, Fen's suggestion to help me sleep better.
"I need to tell you something," I said, my voice barely audible over the crackling fire.
Three sets of eyes turned to me immediately. Kael's scowl deepened with concern, Rhys shifted to face me more fully, and Fen leaned forward slightly in that attentive way of his.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Rhys asked, his voice carrying that natural alpha authority softened by genuine care.
I took a shaky breath, tasting the salt of unshed tears. "I've been thinking about my role here. With you three. I know I'm supposed to be the omega, but I don't know if I'm good enough for that. I don't know if I can be what you need."
Kael's mug hit the side table with more force than necessary. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Kael," Fen said quietly, a gentle warning in his tone.
"No, I mean it," Kael continued, his voice gruff but not unkind. "Where's this coming from, Eliana?"
I hugged my knees to my chest, feeling small and vulnerable despite being a grown woman. At five-foot-four with curves that had never quite fit society's omega ideals, I'd always felt like I was fighting for my place in any pack dynamic.
"It's just I keep thinking about what happened before. About why I was alone when you found me." I swallowed hard, the words sticking in my throat like pine sap. "I need to tell you about my last pack. About what happened in the forest."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees, though the fire burned just as bright. I could smell the shift in their scents—Kael's dark, smoky musk sharpening with protective anger, Rhys's warm cedar taking on an edge of alertness, and Fen's steady, earthy scent growing more grounding, more present.
"You don't have to—" Rhys started, but I held up a hand.
"I do. I need you to understand why I'm so afraid of failing again."
I closed my eyes, letting the memory wash over me like a tide I couldn't stop.
"The air changes, because I'm standing in a forest," I began, my voice taking on a dreamy, distant quality as I sank back into that nightmare. "There are pines stretching high above me, their trunks blackened by shadow and memory. Moonlight slices through the canopy in sharp, white lines, casting my surroundings in that silver-blue that only exists in memories and nightmares."
I could smell it again—the sharp, wild scent of that forest floor, damp with moss and old leaves. The metallic tang that I now knew had been blood, so much blood.
"And then I smell him. My Alpha. That unmistakable scent—smoky, warm, with the kind of grounding musk that used to anchor me when everything else fell apart."
My voice broke slightly, and I felt Rhys shift closer on the couch, his warm presence a comfort even as I relived my worst memory.
"I stumble forward, and my feet sink into the soft earth. My breath fogs in the cold air, and my skin tingles—not from cold, but from the crawling tension of being watched. This is the clearing where everything fractured."
I opened my eyes and found all three of them watching me with intense focus. Kael's hands were clenched into fists on his knees, Rhys's jaw was tight with controlled anger, and Fen's usually calm expression had hardened into something dangerous.
"My pack stood at the edge of the clearing," I continued, my voice growing stronger even as my heart raced. "They were tense, like prey animals who already knew the hunter was coming. And my Alpha asked, 'Is it done?'"
The taste of betrayal flooded my mouth again, bitter and sharp. I could still see the Beta's face, the one who used to bring me coffee before runs, who carried me through a snowdrift when I twisted my ankle. The one who sold us out.
"The Beta—Marcus—he whispered, 'What if they know? What if they're watching us?' Someone tried to quiet him, but it was too late. I felt the shift in the air before I saw them. A rival pack, slinking through the trees with bared teeth and fury on their breath."
I had to pause, taking a sip of tea to wet my suddenly dry throat. The chamomile tasted like safety now, like home, so different from the fear that had coated my tongue that night.
"My stomach lurched as I realized what had happened. Marcus had sold us out. I couldn't believe it at first—he was my friend, someone I trusted. But Dad always said everyone has a price, and I guess Marcus found his."
Kael's growl rumbled low in his chest, and the scent of his anger spiked in the air. "Fucking traitor."
"The Alpha didn't get to react before chaos erupted," I continued, my voice shaking now as I reached the worst part. "Growls, shrieks, the thunder of bodies colliding. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I tried to move, but my limbs were locked in place by instinct or fear or—"
"Heat," Fen said quietly, understanding in his voice.
I nodded, tears finally spilling over. "My heat hit right then, in the middle of the battle. My scent bloomed hot and slick in the air, and suddenly I wasn't just witnessing a massacre—I was making it worse. Drawing attention from both sides, making the alphas lose focus."
The memory of those hungry eyes still made my skin crawl. I could taste the shame again, sharp and acidic.
"Snarls tore through the air like static. The ground trembled from bodies colliding, claws raking, fists cracking against ribs. I could hear bones break, feel it in my own chest like an echo of violence I couldn't unsee. And over it all, my scent rose like smoke, saturating the air in a way that drew those hungry eyes."
Rhys reached out then, his large hand covering mine where it gripped my mug. His touch was warm, solid, real—so different from the ghostly helplessness of my memory.
"Someone grabbed my wrist," I whispered, "dragging me behind a fallen log. There was panic in his eyes as he said, 'You have to get out of here—your scent—it's pulling them—' Then there was a flash of movement, a growl like thunder, and he was gone."
I was fully crying now, tears streaming down my cheeks as I relived the worst night of my life. "I was kneeling on the ground, shaking, drenched in my own scent while the pack I trusted and loved was being torn apart. And Marcus—the Beta who caused it all—he stood at the edge of the clearing, untouched. His face was pale, his shoulders stiff, but his hands weren't shaking."
The betrayal still cut deep, a knife to the ribs that never fully healed.
"The betrayal split through me like a blade. I tried to lurch forward, to do something, anything, but my body wouldn't follow through. The heat had me locked down, paralyzed in the middle of the worst moment of my life. I tried to shout 'You did this,' but it came out broken."
Kael was on his feet now, pacing behind his chair like a caged Alpha. His scent was sharp with protective fury, and I could hear his breathing getting heavier.
"He turned away," I continued, my voice barely a whisper. "That was the last straw. I fell backward into myself, the heat rising like a fever flood, and just before the memory released me, I heard my Alpha's voice one last time—raw, furious, hurt. He said, 'Eliana—run.'"
I looked up at the three men who had become my anchor over the past month, seeing my own pain reflected in their eyes.
"I would have run if I could, but I was stuck—not just in the grief of watching everyone I'd ever loved be slaughtered, but in the knowledge that it was my fault. My heat, my scent, my presence that made everything worse. That's why I worry about my role here. What if I mess this up too? What if my omega nature brings danger to another pack I care about?"
The silence that followed was heavy with emotion. I could taste their scents mixing in the air—anger, protectiveness, and something deeper that made my heart race for entirely different reasons.
Finally, Kael stopped pacing and turned to face me, his dark eyes intense but gentle. "Eliana," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "what happened to your pack wasn't your fault. That Beta's betrayal had nothing to do with you being in heat. He made his choice before you ever set foot in that clearing."
"But my scent—"
"Your scent is part of who you are," Rhys interrupted, his voice warm but firm. "It's not a weapon or a curse. It's a gift, and any alpha worth his salt knows how to control himself around an omega in heat."
Fen nodded in agreement. "The chaos you described would have happened regardless. Marcus set that trap before your heat ever triggered. You were just caught in the crossfire of his betrayal."
I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, tasting salt and hope in equal measure. "But what if—"
"No what-ifs," Kael said, dropping back into his chair and leaning forward to catch my gaze. "You want to know something? I used to think having an omega in our pack would be a liability. Thought it would make us weak, distracted, vulnerable."
My heart clenched at his words, but he continued before I could spiral.
"But this past month with you has proven me wrong. You're not a liability, Eliana. You're our strength. You see things we miss, you care in ways we've forgotten how to care, and yeah, your omega nature affects us—but it makes us better, not weaker."
He ran a hand through his too-long hair, looking almost vulnerable for a moment. "I've been guarding myself against that for years, afraid of what it would mean to truly bond with an omega. But maybe it's time I let go of that guard. And maybe you need to do the same."
The firelight danced across his features as he spoke, and I could smell the sincerity in his scent—that smoky, warm musk that reminded me so much of my lost Alpha, but different too. Deeper, more complex, more real.
"We're not your old pack," Rhys added, his hand still covering mine. "We're not going anywhere, and we sure as hell aren't going to let anyone hurt you on our watch."
Fen smiled that quiet, knowing smile of his. "Besides, we've survived a month trapped in this cabin together. If we were going to fall apart, don't you think it would have happened by now?"
A laugh bubbled up from my chest, surprising all of us. It tasted like relief and possibility, like the first warm day after a long winter.
"I suppose you have a point," I said, feeling lighter than I had in months.
Outside, the storm continued to rage, but inside our little cabin, surrounded by the scents and warmth of my packmates, I finally felt like I might be home.
Maybe it was time for all of us to let our guards down and see what we could build together.
The fire crackled, the tea grew cold, and for the first time since that terrible night in the forest, I allowed myself to hope that my omega nature might be a gift rather than a curse.