2. Ren
Chapter 2
Ren
P resent day
Two and a half years ago, I killed my omega.
And now, history is threatening to repeat itself.
“I’ll get you some water,” I say, my voice low enough that only Finn and Hailey can hear. She’s pale, hands trembling in her lap, and I don’t need enhanced alpha senses to know something’s very wrong.
The moment I step away, melting into the crowd with ease, my mind races. Her reaction to Veyra Heath was…extreme. Not the typical omega nervousness around a powerful alpha, but something closer to terror. Raw. Visceral.
I might be fucking paranoid about a lot, my shadows have fucking shadows, but what I saw was real.
I weave through clusters of guests, nodding at those who recognize me but never slowing. Their inane conversations about stock prices and vacation homes wash over me like white noise. To my left, two alphas debate whose omega wore a better designer gown tonight. Fucking absurd. All bullshit. Meanwhile, somewhere in this glittering ballroom, predators lurk beneath expensive suits and fake smiles.
My gaze tracks toward the velvet ropes where Pack Ashgrave holds court. Those scarred, dangerous alphas who move through high society like wolves in tailored suits. If anyone here knows where the real predators lurk tonight, it’s them.
Beneath this glittering surface, something rotten pulses. Just like my parents’ galas. Just like the events where I’d stood, ignorant and complicit, while omegas disappeared behind closed doors.
The realization hits as I weave through the crowd: I never escaped it. This world—the one of powerful alphas who trade in flesh and fear—it never ended. I just pretended it had. Convinced myself that by walking away, by taking Finn, by building something real with Stone and Jax, I could somehow leave it all behind.
But it’s been here all along. Waiting. Patient. And now it’s reached out to touch what’s mine. Hailey.
I can’t hide from it anymore.
Or from her. Or from Finn. Stone. Jax.
She’s woven her way into our pack. Denying who she is, what she is, isn’t possible even if I want to.
My senses remain attuned to her and Finn, even as I put distance between us. The bar is across the room, but I take a detour, circling wide to get a better view of Veyra Heath.
She’s still with Stone and Jax. Still the picture of composed elegance—midnight hair swept into an immaculate updo, black dress clinging to her slender frame like a second skin. Nothing in her demeanor betrays the monster Hailey’s reaction suggests lurks beneath. Nothing in her demeanor betrays tension or concern, but something about her sets my teeth on edge. I’ve met her before—several charity events, a few business functions —but tonight, studying her through the lens of Hailey’s reaction, I see her differently.
The way she holds herself. The careful way she moves. The distance she maintains from everyone around her, even as she appears engaged in conversation.
I know that kind of control.
I’ve lived it.
My spine bristles as I grab two glasses of water from a passing server, my gaze barely sliding over the scars on my fingers. Scars from when I’d pulled Finn from that wreckage and didn’t even feel the metal tearing into my skin. Turning back toward where I left him and Hailey, I stop short. They’re…not there.
My brows furrow, gaze sweeping the room. They wouldn’t have gone far. Finn wouldn’t leave without telling the rest of the pack, not when Hailey was in that state.
I push through the crowd, moving faster now, ignoring the irritated glances from guests forced to step aside. The knot in my gut tightens with each second they remain out of sight.
When I reach the spot where I left them, there’s nothing. No sign they were ever there.
Then I notice it—the slight disturbance in the crowd near the side exit, a few guests rubbing their arms like they’d been brushed past too quickly. The doors to the garden are just barely ajar, a whisper of night air cutting through the stifling heat of the party.
Finn and Hailey.
They went outside.
I follow the trail, moving with purpose now, no longer bothering with social niceties as I shoulder past guests and ignore their affronted looks. Yea. Whatever. Fuck them.
The moment I step outside, the night air hits me. Cool and a welcome relief. I fucking hate these galas. It’s like being in a den of venomous snakes and letting them crawl all over you.
Pausing, I let my eyes adjust to the darkness, my senses reaching out for any trace of our omegas.
It’s the voices I hear first. Voices raised in concern, coming from around the corner of the building. And beneath it all, the unmistakable scent of fear.
And something else. A scent that’s been embedded in my brain since that night.
Blood.
My world narrows to a pinpoint, instincts surging to the surface as I break into a run. I round the corner and freeze, the scene before me twisting reality into something unrecognizable.
A small crowd has gathered, their elegant evening wear at odds with the chaos at their center. And there, on the ground, surrounded by concerned onlookers, lies my heart.
Finn—my Finn—is sprawled on the ground, motionless, a trickle of blood running from his temple down the side of his face. His gray suit—the one I’d helped select because it brought out the silver in his eyes—is rumpled and stained, one sleeve torn. The water slips from my hands, crashing and splintering across concrete.
“Someone call an ambulance!” an omega says, her voice seeming to come from miles away.
But I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t think past the roaring in my ears and the sick sense of déjà vu crashing over me.
It’s happening again.
Rain lashing the windshield. Metal crushing inward. Finn’s blood black in the moonlight. His heart stopping beneath my hands.
“—an ambulance is on its way?—”
“—just found him like this?—”
The fragments of conversation break through my paralysis, and suddenly I’m moving, shoving people aside with enough force to send them staggering.
“Get the fuck away from him,” I snarl, dropping to my knees beside Finn’s still form. My hands hover over him, afraid to touch, afraid to make it worse. “Finn. Finn , can you hear me?”
He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t move. Only the shallow rise and fall of his chest tells me he’s alive.
My vision blurs, rage and fear overwhelming rational thought. “ What happened ?” My head snaps up to glare at the gathered guests. “ Who did this to him? ”
They shrink back, the violence in my tone making them instinctively recoil.
“We don’t know,” someone finally says. “We heard a commotion?—”
“And no one saw anything?” I cut in, voice cracking with the strain of controlling myself. “No one saw who attacked my omega?”
More nervous glances, more useless murmurs. These people—these wealthy, privileged alphas and omegas—they’d stood by while Finn was assaulted, and now they couldn’t even provide a fucking description.
I turn back to Finn, carefully checking him for injuries beyond the head wound. His pulse is steady beneath my fingers, but he remains unresponsive. The relief that he’s alive wars with the rage that someone dared touch him, hurt him, leave him bleeding on the ground.
And then, a new, terrible thought strikes me.
“Where’s Hailey?” I look up again, scanning the faces of the onlookers. “The omega who was with him. Where is she ?”
The blank stares tell me everything I need to know.
“Hailey!” I shout, rising to my feet, panic clawing at my chest. “HAILEY!”
Nothing. No response. Just the uncomfortable shifting of the gathered crowd.
The truth slams into me with crushing force: someone attacked Finn and took Hailey. Someone connected to Veyra Heath. Someone connected to the Academy. I’m sure of it.
The growl that tears from my throat is barely human—a sound of pure alpha rage that makes everyone within earshot take an instinctive step back. My hands clench into fists so tight I feel my nails break skin. Crouching, I pull Finn into my arms, trembling fingers brushing over his jaw. I need to get him out of here. I need?—
“REN!”
The voice cuts through my haze like a blade. I turn to see Jax pushing through the crowd, Stone right behind him. Their expressions shift from concern to shock as they take in the scene.
“What the fuck happened?” Jax drops to his knees, immediately reaching for Finn.
“Someone attacked him,” I manage, my voice raw. “And they took Hailey.”
“What?” Stone’s head snaps up, his golden eyes scanning the area as if he might find her hiding nearby. The alpha growl that builds in his chest matches the one still rumbling in mine. “When? How?”
“I don’t know,” I grit out. “I went to get water, and?—”
I break off, unable to continue. I’d left them. Again. Failed to protect them. Again.
“We called an ambulance,” someone repeats nearby and I realize it’s because Jax is punching in the emergency number. At the beta’s voice, he shoves his phone back into his pocket, his hand reaching for Finn’s wrist, checking his pulse. Though his voice is steady, I can smell the sharp tang of his fear. “We need to keep him still until it gets here.”
I barely hear him, my thoughts spiraling into darker and darker places. This is my fault. My past catching up with me. My family’s legacy continuing to destroy everything I love.
Off in the distance, the sound of sirens cuts through the air.
Stone freezes, his body going rigid, his nostrils flaring slightly. His face is a mask, devoid of emotion, but the air around him crackles with a silent fury, like a gathering storm. His eyes, usually warm and amber, are now cold, hard, and focused. He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, for a heartbeat. Then, a low growl rumbles in his chest, a sound that vibrates through the air around us.
“You got him?” he snarls at Jax, fist clenching slowly.
Jax doesn’t answer, instead he presses two fingers to Finn’s throat, checking his pulse once more. His hands shake. “Go,” he grits out.
Stone is already moving, shoving through the small crowd of onlookers with enough force to send an alpha stumbling. His stride makes omegas press themselves against the wall as he passes.
He’ll find her , the thought whispers in my mind. Stone will find her.
I have to believe it.
Turning my attention back to Finn, I cradle him closer. Then Finn’s blood seeps through my sleeve.
Warm .
Sticky .
The world tilts. Suddenly, I’m not kneeling at the side of this fancy building—I’m crouched on rain-slick asphalt, Finn’s broken body heavy in my arms. His blood looked black back then, too. Same coppery stench. Same terrible stillness.
“ Stay with me! ” Past-me had begged, pressing shaking hands to the jagged metal spearing Finn’s abdomen. “ Look at me, baby, just look at ? — ”
“Ren!” Jax’s voice yanks me back.
I blink. Present-Finn lies pale but breathing in my arms, his temple wound oozing crimson down his cheek. My fingers convulse around him— too tight, not tight enough —as the ambulance sirens wail closer.
“Finn,” I whisper, leaning close to his ear. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. Please wake up. Please be okay.”
He doesn’t stir, his face unnaturally still, unnaturally pale. Blood continues to seep from the wound at his temple, and I carefully press my handkerchief against it, trying to stem the flow.
The distant wail of sirens grows steadily louder. Help is coming. Finn will be okay. He has to be.
But Hailey…
Sweet, innocent Hailey. A wild, animal panic claws at my insides. Every moment she’s gone is a moment she could be suffering. Every second wasted is a second they take her farther away.
I know who has her. I know what they’ll do to her—what they do to all the omegas they capture.
Training. Breaking. Selling .
The thought of sweet, fragile Hailey in their hands makes me want to tear the world apart. Hailey who forgave me even after I hurt her. Hailey who entered our broken pack and instead of ripping it even wider apart, has single-handedly begun to put it back together again.
Our Hailey.
In the distance, flashing lights cut through the darkness as an ambulance pulls up to the entrance. Paramedics pour out, equipment in hand, moving toward us.
The lights paint Finn’s face in garish red and blue. I tighten my arms around him, heart rate increasing.
“Sir, we need to take him now,” the lead paramedic says, reaching for Finn.
A growl rips from my chest before I can stop it. My arms lock like steel bands even when my mind screams to let him go. To let them do their job. The paramedic freezes—smart man—but his partner moves in with a neck brace.
“Alpha,” she says carefully, hands raised, “we can’t help him if you don’t let go.”
Jax’s hand lands on my shoulder like an anchor. “Ren.” His voice cracks like a whip. “They’ll keep him alive.”
Fuck. Let go. I have to let go.
Slowly—so fucking slowly—my fingers uncurl. The paramedics lift Finn from my lap, and it feels like tearing out a rib. My hands stay suspended in the air, heart threatening to seize right there.
They strap him down, barking medical jargon.
“H-he was in an accident two years ago.” The words tumble from my lips. “He ended up in a coma. He?—”
The paramedic’s gaze slides to me, and he nods. “We’ll take care of him.”
The heart monitor’s steady beep is the only thing stopping me from snatching him back.
Jax squeezes my shoulder. “Breathe.”
I can’t. Not until they load Finn into the ambulance and slam the doors. Not until those taillights disappear down the drive.
Not until Stone’s snarl cuts through the night: “Found her scent.”
But that’s fairytale thinking. My reality has never been so easy.
The world narrows to the paramedic’s hands on Finn and nothing else. Like in a trance, I follow them down to the ambulance, Jax at my side.
And then, just as they’re preparing to move him to the ambulance, Finn stirs.
His eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, then widening with panic as he takes in the strangers hovering over him. His scent spikes with fear, and I’m at his side in an instant, ignoring the paramedic’s attempt to keep me back.
“Finn,” I say, voice rough with relief. “I’m here. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay, baby.”
His gaze finds mine, recognition dawning through the haze of pain. “Ren?” His voice is barely a whisper, but it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
“I’m here.” I take his hand, careful of the IV they’ve inserted. “You’re going to be okay.”
But he’s already shaking his head, wincing at the movement. His grip on my hand tightens with surprising strength as he tries to pull himself up.
“Hailey,” he gasps, struggling against the restraints they’ve placed to immobilize his neck. “They took her. Ren, they took her .”
The words twist like a knife in my gut. It’s not only my pain. It’s his , too. Finn sounds like they just tore out his heart.
“Who?” I press, leaning closer. “Who took her, Finn?”
“Didn’t see—” Pain cuts through his words, making him wince. “Mask. Big. Hit us both.” His breath catches on what might be a sob and then his voice drops. “Veyra. It’s her, Ren. Hailey said Veyra is Widow.”
Widow. The alpha from the Academy that Hailey had mentioned. The one who had broken her over and over again.
And Veyra Heath—powerful, connected, untouchable Veyra Heath—is Widow.
It fits. It all fits. The way she looked at Hailey. The timing of the attack. The precision of it all.
“Sir, we need to move him,” a paramedic insists, stepping between us. “He needs medical attention now.”
I nod, mind still reeling from the confirmation, but Finn’s grip on my hand tightens, his gray eyes locking onto mine with desperate intensity.
“Find her,” he whispers. “Bring her back.”
“I will.”
His grip tightens. “ Promise me , Ren.”
The weight of his request settles on my shoulders.
“I promise.” The words bind me like a blood oath.
His grip loosens then, relief flickering across his face as the paramedics prepare to move him. “I’ll be at the hospital,” I whisper, but Finn tries to shake his head.
“Go,” he whispers. “Leave me. Focus on finding her.” The naked fear in his voice slices through layers of rage and determination to the raw guilt beneath.
I’ve left him before. Left him to wake up in a hospital bed without me. Left him to heal alone while I drowned in my own guilt.
And then I left again after what I did to Hailey. After my fists closed around her throat and I almost strangled the life out of her.
I’m a mess. Always running.
It’s time that ends.
Today.
Now .
“I’ll make this right,” I tell him, and in that moment, I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything. “I’ll bring her back, Finn. I’ll bring her home.”
His eyes flutter closed, the sedative they’ve administered finally taking effect. The paramedics move him toward the ambulance, and I follow long enough to see him settled, to press one last kiss to his forehead, to whisper the promise again.
Then I turn back toward the gala, every muscle in my body taut with barely contained rage.
Veyra is still in there. Still playing her role, still pretending to be nothing more than a successful businesswoman attending a charity event.
And I’m going to rip that mask off in front of everyone.
“Ren, wait,” Jax calls after me, concern evident in his voice. “Where are you going?”
“To get answers,” I snarl, not slowing my pace.
“You need to think about,” Jax says, catching up to me, his hand clamping down on my arm. “If Veyra is who Finn says she is?—”
“She is.” The certainty in my voice brooks no argument. “And she’s going to tell me where Hailey is.”
“Not like this,” Jax insists, stepping in front of me, blocking my path. He lowers his voice to a hiss. “Not in the middle of a gala, with witnesses everywhere.”
“ Get out of my way, Jax. ”
“You go in there like this, you’ll only make things worse.” His gaze is steady on mine. “You think Veyra doesn’t have security? Connections? You think she won’t have you thrown out—or worse—if you make a scene?”
“I don’t care.” And it’s true. I don’t care about consequences, about witnesses, about anything except finding Hailey. “Every minute we waste is another minute she’s in their hands.”
“And if you get yourself arrested? Or injured? Or killed? How does that help Hailey? How does that help Finn?” Jax’s voice drops even lower, his alpha command bleeding into it. “Use your head, Ren. Not your rage.”
For a moment, I consider shoving him aside. I could do it. Even if he used pack dominance on me, he couldn’t stop me if I was determined enough.
And I am.
But the rational part of my brain—the part not consumed by primal protective fury—knows he’s right. Confronting Veyra head-on, in public, with nothing but accusations and threats, won’t get Hailey back. It might even put her in more danger.
“Fine,” I grit out, though every instinct screams at me to fight, to chase, to destroy. “What’s your brilliant plan, then?”
“First, we calm down,” Jax says, his grip on my arm loosening slightly. He adjusts my jacket, gaze shifting to a few of the guests still lingering outside and shooting us side glances. “Then we go back in there, find Veyra, and watch her. See who she talks to, who she leaves with. Get information, not confrontation.”
It’s sound. Logical. Frustratingly, infuriatingly so.
“And while we’re playing detective, what happens to Hailey, huh?” I barely maintain the whisper, unable to keep the edge from my voice.
“We’ll find her,” Jax promises, his expression hardening with resolve. “But we do it smart. And we do it together.”
I take a deep breath, forcing the rage down, compartmentalizing it into a cold, sharp focus. “Fine,” I say again. “Let’s go.”
We re-enter the gala, the contrast between the cool night air and the stifling warmth of the ballroom momentarily disorienting. The party continues uninterrupted, most guests blissfully unaware of the violence that occurred just outside. The music plays on, champagne flows, laughter rises and falls in waves.
It’s nauseating.
I scan the room, searching for that sleek black dress, that midnight hair. Veyra is still here—I can feel it. She wouldn’t leave, not when doing so might raise suspicions. No, she’d stay, play her part, maintain the facade of normalcy while her people take Hailey God knows where.
And there she is, still holding court near the marble staircase, surrounded by admirers and sycophants. Her smile is polite, practiced, but there’s a predatory edge to it that I can’t believe I missed before.
“There,” I murmur to Jax, nodding in her direction. “By the stairs.”
He follows my gaze, his expression hardening. “Surrounded by people. Big players in the game. The governor. Head of police. This isn’t the place, Ren.”
But I’m already moving, cutting through the crowd with single-minded determination. People step aside, responding instinctively to the barely contained violence in my posture, the alpha rage that must be rolling off me in waves.
I hear Jax curse behind me, trying to keep up, but I don’t slow down. All I can see is Veyra. All I can think about is Hailey in the hands of the Academy. All I can feel is the burning need to make someone pay.
Veyra sees me coming. Of course she does. Her dark eyes track my approach, her expression betraying nothing, not even a flicker of concern. Just that same polite, distant smile, as if I’m simply another guest coming to pay my respects.
I’m halfway across the room when conversations begin to falter, heads turning to follow my progress. I must look like a storm approaching—all barely contained fury and wild intensity.
But then…she smiles. Gaze locked with mine, the bitch smiles.
I stop a few feet away from her. For three pounding heartbeats, the gala disappears. There’s only her jasmine scent cutting through the copper stench of Finn’s blood on my cuffs. Only the way her smile stays perfectly measured while her right thumb taps twice against her glass.
She knows I know.
The knowledge only feeds my rage, confirming what I already suspected. Veyra knew who Hailey was the moment she saw her tonight. Knew what her presence meant. Knew what she had to do to protect her secrets.
And now Finn is injured and Hailey is gone, all because I wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t vigilant enough, wasn’t strong enough to protect what’s mine.
By the time I reach her circle, the tension in the air is thick enough to cut. Conversations around us have died, guests watching with the avid interest of spectators at a bloodsport.
“Mr. Ironwood.” Her voice carries across to me. “How is your omega? The poor thing seemed quite…distressed earlier.”
The stem of my glass snaps in my fist. Champagne and blood drip between my fingers. I don’t remember picking it up.
“Ren.” Jax’s warning vibrates through the hand clamped on my shoulder.
Veyra’s security detail shifts as I step forward. The governor leans in to whisper to her. She dismisses him with a laugh that makes my molars grind.
“Is everything alright, Mr. Ironwood?” she asks. “You seem rather…disturbed.”
My hands flex at my sides. I could cross the distance before her bodyguards clear their holsters. Could drive that broken glass stem into her carotid and watch her perfect composure bleed out on the pristine white tiles?—
Jax’s grip becomes vise-like. “Look,” he hisses against my ear.
The Minister of Defense. Two Supreme Court justices. Even the mayor. All watching me like I’m an unstable chemical about to combust.
Veyra’s smile widens. Checkmate .
What a bitch.
But two can play her game.
Almost like I switch personalities, I straighten my shoulders, the shadow of death erasing itself from my features as I close my jacket, securing the button at the front.
I don’t care that the blood on my fingers smears across the white shirt as I do so. In that split second, I see her smile falter. Just as mine appears. The same smile that would have omegas weak in the knees. The same smile I used to wear before I realized how broken and fucked up everything was.
“Apologies, Ms. Heath.” My voice drops into that velvet-wrapped-steel tone that can make boardrooms fall silent. “Seeing my omega injured rattled me more than I’d care to admit.” I press a bloodstained hand to my chest in mock contrition. “You understand how protective we alphas can be.”
Her manicured fingers tighten around her champagne flute. That faint scent of jasmine spikes—just for a second—with something acrid. Fear.
Jax’s grip on my arm tenses in warning, but I don’t need it. I’m already stepping back, already playing the chastened alpha. Let her think she’s won this round. Let the politicians whisper about Ren Ironwood’s emotional outburst.
“If you’ll excuse us.”
As Jax guides me toward the exit, my gaze drifts back across the room, hardly seeing the many guests. They all blend into one. All except one group.
Pack Ashgrave stands watching our retreat. Dressed in tuxedos like everyone else, their suits are tailored and pristine, but there’s something about them. Something many others in this room don’t know about, but I do. And they owe me a favor.
The scarred alpha raises his glass slightly in what might be a salute, his eyes calculating as they track our movement.
Not here, his look says. But we settle debts .
And in that moment, a terrible clarity settles over me. If I can’t do this the right way—if I can’t rely on the law or justice or any of the systems that are supposed to protect the vulnerable from bitches like Veyra Heath and make them pay—then I’ll do it the wrong way.
I’ll call in every favor, cross every line, become the monster I’ve always feared I truly am, if that’s what it takes to get Hailey back.
To keep Finn safe.
To protect what’s mine.
Because this world I’ve tried so hard to escape, this darkness I was born into—it will never really let me go. The only way out is through. And this time, I’m not running away.
This time, I’m burning it all to the ground.