29. Hailey
Chapter 29
Hailey
R en guides me into the house, his grip still firm on my arm. Every step sends jolts of pain through my feet, but I force myself not to limp. The foyer feels different now—darker, heavier with unspoken things. He leads me toward the TV room, and I catch glimpses of the life I disrupted—the blanket Finn shared with me now lying on the floor, the movie we’d been watching now paused on the screen.
Just inside the room, Ren pauses. His jaw ticks—the first crack I’ve seen in his controlled expression. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”
“No.” Finn’s voice is barely a whisper, rough like he’s been crying. When I turn to look at him, he won’t meet my eyes. “Look at her, Ren. She’s covered in dirt and blood. She needs a bath first.”
Something shifts in Ren’s face when he looks at his omega—those arctic eyes soften around the edges, his expression warming like ice touched by sunlight. But when his gaze returns to me, it’s like a switch flips. The warmth vanishes, replaced by that unreadable mask.
“She needs medical attention,” Ren says, but there’s less conviction in his tone.
“Ren.” Finn’s voice carries an edge of exasperation despite its weakness. “I don’t want to argue. Just…let me do this. Let me take her up and run a bath. Please?”
The last word comes out small, almost broken, and I watch Ren’s resolve crumble. He gives a sharp nod, releasing my arm. “Fine. But be careful with her feet on the stairs.”
Finn approaches slowly, like I might bolt again. When he reaches for my hand, I have to fight not to flinch—not from fear of him, but from shame at what I’ve done. His fingers are warm against mine, gentle as he tugs me toward the staircase.
We climb in silence. Slowly, going at my pace rather than his. But even the gentle pressure of each step makes me want to whimper. Finn must sense my pain because he slows down to a crawl, pausing on each step and not moving until I make my way up.
The nest feels different too. The afternoon light that had seemed so warm this morning now casts long shadows across the floor. Finn leads me straight to the bathroom, flicking on lights that seem too harsh after the forest’s filtered sunlight.
“Sit,” he says softly, gesturing to the closed toilet lid. While I obey, he moves to the massive tub, turning handles with the familiarity that comes with knowing the place. Steam begins to rise as water thunders against porcelain.
He doesn’t look at me as he opens cabinet doors, pulling out various bottles and jars. The silence stretches between us, thick with words neither of us seems ready to say. I watch his hands as he measures different substances into the filling tub—pale pink crystals that dissolve in spirals, something that smells like lavender and eucalyptus, another jar that turns the water slightly cloudy.
“Healing salts,” he explains, but his voice is almost devoid of any telling emotion. I’ve hurt him. “And some herbs for…for the pain.”
“You have a lot of those,” I whisper, not sure what else to say. It’s not really a question, but he answers anyway.
His shoulders tense slightly. “They’re for when I’m in heat.” He measures out another spoonful, movements precise but slightly jerky. “An omega like me isn’t…quite made for an alpha’s knot. Not properly.”
He murmurs something else, so quiet I almost miss it, something that sounds like, “No wonder it all went wrong. Can’t even be a proper omega.” The words make me sit up straighter, shocked, but before I can respond, he’s already upping the water pressure, drowning out any chance of further conversation.
He tests the water temperature with his wrist, adjusting the taps slightly, but he’s still not looking at me directly. “The white stuff is colloidal oatmeal. It’ll help with any inflammation. And there’s arnica oil for the bruising.”
My throat feels too tight to respond, so I just nod. He must see it in his peripheral vision because he continues, “I’m going to turn around now, okay? So you can get undressed. The water should be deep enough.”
I wait until his back is turned before standing on shaky legs. The borrowed clothes cling to me, stiff with dried sweat and forest debris. Every movement reveals new aches as I peel them off, letting them fall in a heap on the floor. Next are the ripped and torn bandages Stone had so carefully wrapped across my wounds.
The first touch of water nearly undoes me. It’s the perfect temperature—hot enough to ease my muscles but not so hot it stings my various cuts. I sink in slowly, watching the water rise around me, carrying the scent of herbs and flowers.
“I’m in,” I whisper when I’m finally settled, most of my body hidden beneath the cloudy water.
Finn turns back around, and for the first time since I returned, our eyes meet properly. What I see there steals my breath—not anger or disappointment, but something deeper. Pain that makes my chest ache.
He kneels beside the tub. “I’m going to wash your hair, if that’s okay?”
I nod, not trusting my voice. He reaches for a cup from the shelf beside the tub, and I close my eyes as he begins pouring warm water over my head. His movements are careful, making sure no soap gets in my eyes as he works shampoo through my tangled hair.
“There were leaves,” he says softly, his fingers gentle against my scalp. “And some twigs. But I think I got them all out.”
“Thank you,” I manage, keeping my eyes closed. It’s easier this way—not having to see his face, not having to acknowledge what happened between us. The silence returns as he rinses my hair. But it feels different now. Less oppressive, more…contemplative.
His hands are sure and steady as he works conditioner through the strands, carefully working out knots with his fingers.
Each touch sends sparks of awareness through my body. The gentle scrape of his nails against my scalp makes me want to arch into his hands, to beg for more contact. Heat builds low in my belly, and I have to bite my lip to keep from making embarrassing sounds.
Focus, Hailey. Whatever’s happening to you, focus. Focus and push it away .
“Tilt your head back,” he murmurs, and the low timber of his voice makes something clench deep inside me. When I comply, his fingers trace the curve of my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Even with water surrounding me, I can feel that embarrassing moisture gathering at the center of my thighs. It’s a different consistency. Thicker. I’m suddenly even more grateful for the fact I’m fully submerged.
Through half-closed eyes, I watch Finn’s throat work as he swallows, notice how his breathing has grown slightly uneven. When his thumb accidentally brushes the sensitive spot behind my ear, we both freeze at the small whimper that escapes me.
“Sorry,” he whispers, but his scent spikes with something that makes me want to keen with want. What’s going on with me? What kind of horrible person am I? I should feel vulnerable—naked and exposed while he’s fully dressed—but instead, I feel…safe again. Protected. Even after everything that’s happened .
“The salts should help with the muscle aches,” he says after a while, his voice still neutral. “And there’s some witch hazel in there too, for the cuts. Stone knows a lot about herbal remedies. He…” Finn’s hands falter for just a moment. “He likes taking care of people.”
The unspoken hangs between us—that Stone should be the one doing this, that I’ve disrupted their whole dynamic, that nothing will ever be the same. But Finn’s hands remain gentle as he rinses my hair one last time.
“Keep soaking for a bit,” he says, reaching for a towel to dry his hands. “The herbs need time to work. I’ll just…” He gestures vaguely at the door. “I’ll be right outside. Call if you need anything.”
“Finn,” I whisper, finally opening my eyes. He pauses, hand on the doorknob, but doesn’t turn around. “I?—”
“Don’t,” he cuts me off, voice rough. “Not…not yet. Just…let the herbs do their work. We’ll talk after. All of us.”
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling water and the scent of healing herbs. And underneath it all, that persistent heat that burns beneath my skin, unaffected by all the remedies in the world.
Because they can’t heal what’s really wrong with me.
The fact that even now, even after everything, all I can think about is the gentle press of his hands in my hair, and how much I wish they’d lingered.
Finn
The door clicks shut behind me and I lean against it, sliding down until I’m sitting on the floor. My hands are shaking—they’ve been shaking since I saw her emerge from the trees, looking like some wild, wounded thing. Like something out of a dream. Or a nightmare.
I should resent her. That’s what a proper omega would do, right? Resent the person who’s thrown their whole life into chaos. Who’s the reason they will lose their alphas forever.
But I can’t.
Gods help me. All I felt when I saw her stumbling across that gravel was relief. Pure, devastating relief that made my knees weak and my insides constrict. She came back. She actually came back.
The sound of water shifting comes through the door, and I press my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the memory of her kneeling in the gravel. Of Ren’s cold eyes and even colder tone. Of the way she’d trembled under his grip but stayed, anyway.
“Stupid,” I whisper to myself. “So fucking stupid.”
But which part? The kiss? The fact that I can’t bring myself to regret it? Or the way my heart had nearly stopped when I realized she was gone—when I’d heard her feet pounding down the hall and known, known with terrible certainty that she was running because of me?
The argument from earlier echoes in my head:
“Did you think about us at all while you had your tongue down her throat?”
“Like you care! Like any of you have cared what I do for months! ”
The words had exploded out of me, carrying months of frustration and loneliness. They’d looked so shocked—my strong, beautiful alphas who’ve been slowly pulling away from me. Who treat me like I’m made of glass ever since…
Ever since the accident.
The scars across my torso suddenly feel stiff and like they’re not a part of me. Just something implanted. Something alien that makes me less whole.
A sob catches in my throat, and I swallow it back. No. I can’t think about that now. Can’t think about the way things used to be .
But then Hailey had looked at me like…like I was something precious. The way they used to look at me, before everything went wrong.
“What is wrong with me?” I breathe, letting my head fall back against the door. The bathroom light spills under the crack, carrying the scent of healing herbs and—underneath—something else. Something that makes my skin prickle and my heart race.
I shouldn’t be able to smell her like this. Shouldn’t be drawn to her scent the way I am. She’s an omega , like me. It doesn’t make any sense.
Nothing about this makes sense.
Not the way she kisses—god, that kiss. Not the way she makes me feel good and worried and protective all at once. Not the way she came back, even though she must have been terrified.
The sound of splashing water again, and I imagine her sinking deeper into the tub. Letting the herbs do their work on her battered body. She’d run until her feet bled rather than face what happened. But then she’d come back.
For me .
The thought makes something warm unfurl in my chest, even as guilt claws at my throat. My alphas are downstairs, probably trying to figure out what to do with this mess I’ve created. With their broken omega who kisses strange girls and starts fights and ruins the one good thing they had.
But when I close my eyes, all I can see is Hailey emerging from those trees. The way the sunlight caught her hair, turning it to fire. The determination in her stride, even though every step must have hurt. The way she’d dropped to her knees without hesitation, offering herself up for punishment to protect me .
Me . Like I’m worth protecting.
Another splash from the bathroom, and my fingers itch to go back in. To keep touching her hair, her skin, to make sure she’s really here. Because even though it’s tearing me apart, I know this is where she should be. Right here. In this house .
This is all hers.
It was never meant to be mine.
God, what am I going to do?
A soft knock breaks through my spiraling thoughts. I scramble to my feet, hands brushing quickly over my eyes to wipe away the wetness that has escaped as I head to the bedroom door. I open it just enough to see Ren standing there, his expression the usual unreadable mask.
“Come downstairs,” he whispers, voice pitched low enough that it won’t carry through the bathroom door. “We need to talk.”
I glance back toward the bathroom. “I can’t just leave her?—”
“She’ll be fine.” His tone is clipped, but there’s something underneath it. Something tense. “It’s not like she’s going to jump through one of the windows.”
We both stiffen, the implications hitting us simultaneously. Her desperate flight earlier. The way she’d run without thought for her own safety. The fact that we’re on the second floor, but that might not matter to someone desperate enough…
Before I can move, Ren is already striding into the nest room. It’s the first time he’s entered since my last heat, and the symbolism isn’t lost on me. My heart cracks a little more as I watch him check each window, making sure they’re securely latched.
I can see the tension in his shoulders. The way his hands linger on each latch a moment longer than necessary. Like he’s fighting some instinct I don’t quite understand.
When he’s satisfied the windows are secure, he turns back to me. “Now come downstairs. The others are waiting.”
With one last glance at the bathroom door, I step out and close the door quietly at my back.
Ren leads the way downstairs, his footsteps nearly silent despite his size. I follow more slowly, my mind still half-focused on the bathroom above, straining to hear any sound that might suggest Hailey needs me. But there aren’t any warning sounds.
We reach the bottom of the stairs and I hear movement from the sitting room—Jax and Stone have returned from their panicked search in the forest.
Ren pauses in the hallway, turning to face me. For a moment, something flickers across his face and his mask shatters. For a moment, I see the Ren that loves me. The one that’s obsessed with me. It’s all in his eyes. Those arctic pools he uses to stab anyone he doesn’t trust or doesn’t like. But for me, those eyes always melt into liquid. Like clear spring water.
I pause there, pulse rising as he simply stares back at me. His gaze drags over my face, lingering on my mouth before snapping back to meet my eyes, like he’s trying to memorize me and hold himself back at the same time.
“Whatever happens in there,” he says quietly, “remember that we care about you, Finn.” He hesitates, then adds, “In our own way, each one of us is only trying to protect this pack.”
The strange emphasis in his words makes my stomach twist, but before I can question him, he’s already moving toward the sitting room. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but my heart is already racing.
As I step into the sitting room, the sudden presence of all three alphas makes the space feel smaller, more confined. I release a heavy breath as I drop into the couch. My skin prickles with awareness as they arrange themselves—Jax taking the armchair directly across from me, Stone leaning against the doorframe, and Ren moving to the entertainment center where he deliberately turns up the volume on the TV.
White noise. So we won’t be overheard.
My heart rate kicks up again, though I force myself to remain outwardly calm. There are too many things we need to discuss, each worse than the last. The fact that Stone had been hiding Hailey in his cabin. The Academy she’d escaped from. The kiss that just happened. The way my body had responded to her, inappropriate and impossible as it was. The fact she’s their scent match. The fact I’m not .
“We need to talk, Finn,” Jax says low. “We can’t delay it any longer.”
I resist the urge to curl in on myself. Instead, I nod. “About which part, exactly?”
“You know what.” His nostrils flare slightly, and I know he can smell it—the lingering traces of arousal, of her slick, of our combined scents.
Heat crawls up my neck, but I lift my chin. “If this is about me taking her in?—”
“It’s not.” Stone’s voice is rough. When I glance at him, his arms are crossed, as if he’s physically holding himself back from coming closer.
“Then what?” The defensiveness in my tone surprises even me. “That I kissed her? That I let her sleep in our nest? That she was in that cabin and none of you bothered to?—”
“Finn.” Jax’s voice cuts through my rising panic. “Stop.”
I do, but my heart is hammering so hard I’m sure they can hear it. The silence stretches, broken only by the sound of whatever movie is still playing on the TV.
“There’s a lot we need to discuss,” Jax finally continues, each word measured. “The Academy. What happened at the cabin? The distance that’s grown between us these past months.”
My throat tightens at that last part. I look away, unable to meet his eyes.
“But right now,” he continues, “there’s something more important we need to address.”
Yeah. I know what he means. The fact she’s their mate. The fact that I’m not what they wanted. The fact that this is the end for us…
Stone’s voice is tight with something I can’t quite identify. “We all saw what just happened between you and her. Smelled it. We’re not…we’re not angry about it.” Ren makes a sound in his throat as if he disagrees, and Stone deliberately ignores him. “We…we like to s ee you happy, Finn. Even if she wasn’t our scent match, I don’t think we’d be angry.”
Ren grunts again, and I hear him growl under his breath. “Speak for yourself.”
My face burns, but I can’t look away from Jax. His expression is intense, focused entirely on me as he leans forward in his chair.
“Think about it, Finn. Really think. The way she affects you. The way her scent calls to you. The way you responded to her just now—have you ever felt anything like that with another omega?”
“No, but…” I swallow hard. “That doesn’t mean?—”
“It means exactly what we think it means.” Jax’s voice gentles. “She’s ours. All of ours. That’s why you’re drawn to her. Why we all are.”
Those last four words hold me still. My gaze finally moves from Jax to land on Stone before it slides to Ren.
Stone won’t meet my gaze at all, and Ren’s jaw is so tight it looks like solid rock. His eyes remain fixed somewhere over my shoulder, and I realize he’s glaring at Stone. Even Jax’s usual confidence wavers, something uncertain flickering across his face.
“Omegas aren’t scent matches to other omegas.” My voice cracks. “You don’t have to pretend to include me in this. I already know what all this means.”
Jax goes still. “What do you mean ‘pretend to include you’, Finn? You’re our omega. You’re already included. You’re part of this pack.”
“Hardly,” I whisper. I see the pain reflected in his eyes a moment before I look away. But I can’t take it back. Instead, I stiffen my shoulders, sitting up straighter. “Omegas don’t scent match with other omegas. A scent match in itself is already a rare thing between alphas and omegas. Let’s not sugarcoat what’s happening here.”
Jax turns into solid rock. His jaw may be rigid, but the look in his eyes is ripping me apart. “What do you mean, Finn? ”
I swallow hard. “What I mean is that, I’m not your scent match.”
Ren takes a step forward. Without even looking his way, I can feel the hostility radiating off him. “You’re still ours .”
I hate that tears spring into my eyes almost immediately. These fucking useless tears. I lift a hand, stopping him from coming closer. It takes me a moment to gulp away the sobs that threaten.
“Let’s not pretend that my reaction to Hailey isn’t simply because I haven’t been touched in months. That I haven’t been held. That I haven’t felt wanted. Or needed.” My throat closes up and Ren makes a sound in his throat as he steps closer once more.
“Stop.” My jaw clenches as my watery gaze slides to him. “I don’t need your pity right now.”
“ Pity ?” I can hear his disbelief, but it’s the pain in his voice that almost releases the torrent I’m trying to hold back.
Taking a deep breath, I lean back into the couch. Closing my eyes to push back the tears. “Does she know?”
None of them answer. When moments of silence pass, I finally pop my eyes open.
They’re all watching me with identical tortured looks on their faces. And all I want to do, all that my heart’s telling me to do is rush into their arms, to let it all out, to feel safe again.
Instead, I put some steel into my voice. “Does she know?”
Stone releases a breath, throat working. He looks away from me. “I doubt it. From what we heard in the kitchen…I don’t think she knows much about alpha and omega dynamics at all. Let alone something like this.”
Something like this. An omega mated to three alphas. Their true destined mate. Their scent match. The impossibility of it makes my head hurt.
“We need to be careful how we handle this,” Jax says, releasing a breath of his own. That pained gaze is still fixed on me. Still he manages to push through, his voice more level than I thought it would be. But that’s Jax for you. Our rock. Our leader. “She’s traumatized, scared. If we push too hard…”
“You’ll lose her,” I finish quietly. The thought makes something in my chest clench painfully. My heart, I realize.
Ren makes a sound of frustration. “So what?” When my gaze slides to him, his fury is directed at Jax and Stone. “Can’t you see what this is doing to Finn? She’s here. Fuck me if she’s not in our lives now. And you want us to just pretend we don’t know? Act like we can’t smell it every time she?—”
“Yes,” Jax cuts him off firmly. “That’s exactly what we do. Until she’s ready. Until she feels safe enough to recognize it herself.”
“And how long will that take?” Ren demands. “You saw how she looked at us earlier. Like we were going to rip her fucking head off. We don’t have all the time in the world, Jax. Who knows exactly which twisted punk is after her?” His frown deepens as he glares at Jax. “Nothing is worth putting Finn in danger. Not even a fucking scent match.”
“I’m not in danger.” I sit upright once more, facing him. Nothing can hurt me more than I’m already hurt now. But I don’t say that. Can’t say it out loud.
Ren’s jaw clenches again and he turns away from me, pacing once more.
“We wait it out,” Jax says.
Ren makes a frustrated sound in his throat.
Stone interrupts, voice hard. “We’ve already fucked up enough with her. Just like we’ve fucked up with you, Finn.” His gaze catches me and I can’t look away. “I promise you, we’ll do better. We do this right or we don’t do it at all.”
The declaration hangs in the air between us. I study each of their faces in turn—Jax’s careful control, Stone’s guilt, Ren’s frustration. See in each of them the same storm of emotions churning in my chest.
“She’s in pre-heat,” I say finally, the words falling into the silence like stones into still water. “She was perfuming when we…when I…”
“We know.” Jax’s voice is tight. “It’s part of why we needed to have this conversation now . Her first heat since escaping that place…it’s going to be intense. Especially with scent matches so close.”
The implication makes heat curl in my belly even as anxiety claws at my chest.
Ren paces. “We can find an apartment. A secure one. Take her there. Get suppressants. Get her a live-in carer until we sort this out.”
His words make me blink before I realize just what he’s saying.
“No.” I sit up straighter. “You can’t do that.”
Jax leans forward, his eyes intent on my face. He shakes his head slowly, brows slightly furrowed as if he can’t understand me. “Finn…we don’t…this is a strange, unexpected and hard situation. But…Ren’s suggestion. It’s the best choice.”
I continue shaking my head, the reality Ren painted turning into a horror story in my mind. I don’t want Hailey to leave. It’s selfish, but it’s how I feel.
Jax continues. “We’re not bonded to her, Finn. We’re bonded to you. We have to send her away until we can fix this. That way, we can protect you.”
My shoulders stiffen as my gaze hardens on his. “ Protect me? Can’t you see? You’ve always been trying to ‘protect me’. Where has that gotten us?”
The silence that falls in the room is only broken by the sound of the TV.
Stone leans off the door, broad shoulders heaving with a sigh. “Finn’s right. Ren means well, but he’s wrong. We don’t solve this by running away or hiding Hailey somewhere else.” He comes closer, crouching before me. “This is our pack, and you’re our heart. Nothing changes that.”
“But her heat—” Ren starts .
Jax lets out a heavy breath and I catch a glimpse of his exhaustion. This is hard on them, too. “Our priority is healing what’s broken here, between us, Ren. With Finn.” He stares into my eyes and for a moment, I see a world of apologies there. Apologies he doesn’t seem to be able to voice. “We do what Finn wants.” He leans forward, throat working. “We’ve been so caught up in trying to protect you that we forgot to actually be there for you.”
Ren growls in the corner and I want to ask them exactly what they’ve been trying to protect me from these past two and a half years.
“You’re not being replaced,” Stone whispers. “You’re not second choice. You never were. You have to understand that, Finn.”
Some part of me does. It’s not like they went out and searched for Hailey—even though that’s what I’d thought when I found her in that cabin.
“The scent match…” I begin, but Stone takes my hand in his, brushing his calloused fingers over my skin.
“Is just biology,” he finishes. “What we have with you? That’s choice. That’s trust. That’s years of building something real.” His voice drops lower. “We’ve done a poor job showing it, sweetheart, but you’re still our everything, Finn.”
The knot in my chest begins to loosen as I look between them. There’s no hesitation in their faces, no doubt. Just determination and that familiar protective love I’d been missing.
“So what do we do?” I ask softly.
“We fix us first,” Jax says. “And then we figure out how to help her, in whatever way is right for everyone.” His gaze drags over my face, lingering on my mouth before snapping back to meet my eyes, like he’s trying to memorize me and hold himself back at the same time.
I nod. “She’ll need help. Support. But if she’s not ready to know about…about this…” I gesture vaguely between all of us.
“Then we help her through it however she’ll let us,” Stone says firmly. “On her terms. Nothing more. ”
“And if that means watching her suffer through it alone?” Ren turns to face us. “Will you be strong enough to stand by?—”
“Yes,” Jax cuts him off. “If that’s what we have to do, then that’s what we do. Because we have Finn and somehow, she’s also ours, but we’re not hers. Not yet. Not until she chooses it and not until Finn?—”
I shake my head. “I don’t hate her.” They all go still, so I continue. “If it wasn’t obvious, I don’t hate her.”
Ren makes another frustrated sound in his throat and I can’t tell whether he hates the direction this is going or if it’s Hailey that he hates. It’s such a strange thing, the thought of him hating her, that it feels just…wrong. Has he even seen her? How could he dislike her? Not even I can. There’s something I’m missing here.
“We need information on that Academy,” Stone says suddenly. “Where they’re located. Who runs it. What they’ve been doing there.”
Jax nods slowly. “Agreed. You’ve already started making calls, pulling strings. We’ll find out everything we can about that place and this ‘Widow’ person. Make sure no other omega ever goes through what she did.”
Ren stops pacing and takes such a deep breath it feels like he pulls all the air from the room. “Bad idea, boss. You have no idea of the shitstorm heading our way if we step on the wrong toes.”
It’s Jax’s turn for his jaw to clench. We all know he hates when Ren refers to him as “boss” in that dismissive way, like he’s deliberately creating distance between them. But there’s something else here, something in the way Ren keeps contradicting himself. One moment he’s worried about her suffering alone, the next he’s warning us away. His eyes keep darting to the door like he’s expecting someone to come barging in at any moment. Like he knows something he’s not saying.
“Then what do you suggest?” Jax’s voice rises an octave. “That we turn her out back into the wilds? For fuck’s sake, Ren, I’m trying to do what’s best for everyone here. ”
Ren huffs a wry laugh through his nose. “I’m suggesting we bring her to the authorities and stay the fuck away after that.”
His words drop like a dead weight.
“She’s our scent match, Ren.” Stone’s already shaking his head.
Their scent match. A part of me closes up. Goes within myself at the fact I know they’re trying their best, but no one’s facing the elephant in the room.
Like what’s going to happen to me, to us, when they cement that bond with Hailey.
“In the meantime,” Jax says, “we follow Finn’s lead. It’s for the best, anyway. He’s the only one she trusts right now. The only one she feels safe with.”
All three alphas turn to look at me, and the weight of their combined attention makes me want to squirm. Because they’re right—Hailey does trust me. Feels safe with me in a way she doesn’t with them.
I should tell him no. That I want no part in this.
But…I can’t.
I’m not ready to let go yet, even though I know this is all coming to an end.
“I should go check on her,” I say, pushing to my feet. “After what happened, she’s probably…”
“Scared?” Stone’s voice is gentle. “Yeah.” He pauses, gaze searching mine. “If you change your mind, Ren’s idea is still?—”
I shake my head. “No. She’s Ironwood and she’s been traumatized and taken advantage of. I can’t let another omega be alone with all that.” I release a slow breath. “I have to show her there’s nothing wrong with how she responded. Nothing wrong with what she’s feeling.” I swallow hard. “And you’ll…”
Jax releases a breath too, leaning back in the armchair. “We’ll keep our distance.”
As I move toward the door, Ren’s voice stops me. “Finn…”
I turn back to find all three alphas watching me with identical expressions of intensity. But Ren, Ren’s staring at me as if he’s trying to give me an out, and it hits me that if I so much as slightly indicate that I want her out, he’ll do it.
He’ll march upstairs, rip her from that tub, pack her up, and take her away. All so this doesn’t hurt me.
The only problem is, there’s no scenario in this where I win.
I don’t want her to go…but if she stays…
“Be careful,” Ren finally says. He stops there, but I understand what he’s not saying. Be careful with our hearts. All of them. Because this will break us in ways none of us are prepared for.