36. Stone
Chapter 36
Stone
D awn creeps over the mountains, painting the house in shades of gray and gold. My morning patrol is routine—has been since Hailey arrived. Even before I exit my room, I catch a whiff of her honey and vanilla scent. Combined with Finn’s sage, it creates an atmosphere so charged with omega pheromones that I’ve taken to conducting my patrols with shallow breaths, fighting the constant arousal that’s become my new normal.
Each room, each window, each potential entrance is checked and secured. The basement door locked. The front door’s three deadbolts engaged. Ren’s room is empty—not even the blankets ruffled, which suggests he didn’t spend the night here. At least, not in that bed.
I save the nest room for last. These days, it’s where both our omegas sleep—fuck, I can’t believe that thought is even real. Something in me needs to know they’re safe before I can truly start my day. The door is slightly ajar—not unusual. Finn always left it like that, even before Hailey arrived. Like a silent invitation that we can come in.
The wave of their combined scents hits me first, intertwined so perfectly it seems like a single note rather than two distinct omegas. My body responds instantly, cock hardening against my will. It’s been this way for days now. Jax, Ren and I have taken to showering more often, trying to wash away the effect of living in a house saturated with omega sweetness. The cold water provides temporary relief at best.
When I nudge the door open with a finger, the sight that greets me stops me in my tracks.
They’re tangled together in the nest, a mess of limbs and blankets. Their combined sage and honey has permeated the entire room, creating an intoxicating cloud that makes it hard to focus on anything else. Ever since Hailey arrived, the omega pheromones in the house have intensified, becoming almost impossible to ignore. The sight of them together, coupled with that potent scent, makes me bite back a groan, muscles locking to prevent myself from climbing in and joining them.
Finn’s slender frame curls around Hailey like a shield, one arm draped over her waist, his face buried in her hair. She’s pressed back against his chest, small hands clutching his forearm even in sleep. And Jax…
I…can’t believe what I’m seeing. Jax lies facing them, close enough that his breath stirs Hailey’s hair. One of his hands rests on Finn’s hip, possessive even in sleep. They look…so good together. My family. My pack.
The perpetual tension in Finn’s shoulders is gone, replaced by a peace that makes him look like the soft thing I’ve dreamt about tugging to my chest all those times I wasn’t brave enough to face him.
I take a step forward, unable to stop myself. That’s when the morning light catches on tear tracks still visible on his cheeks. I stop short, a familiar pain rising in my chest.
Movement draws my attention—Jax shifting, his nose twitching as he catches my scent. His eyes open slowly, chocolate-dark and heavy with sleep. For a moment, he just stares at me .
“Hey,” he whispers, voice rough with slumber.
“Hey yourself.” I give him a slight nod, gaze shifting back to Finn.
Jax follows my focus before sitting up. “He’ll be okay. She had him.” His gaze slides to Hailey. “Even before I came in here, she had him.”
There’s wonder in Jax’s voice, and perhaps a touch of something else—not quite jealousy, but longing. A recognition of the connection forming between our omegas that we’ve been unable to forge ourselves. I understand it perfectly. The past weeks have been a slow torture, watching Finn pull away, feeling our bond thin to a gossamer thread. Now, in the space of days, Hailey has somehow reached him in ways we couldn’t. The relief is overwhelming, but so is the ache of recognition—that sometimes what our omega needs isn’t us at all.
A slow exhalation makes my shoulders sag. I lean against the doorframe, unwilling to disturb this fragile peace.
Jax’s fingers linger on Finn’s hip, a gentle squeeze, before he begins the delicate process of untangling himself from the nest of limbs and blankets. Finn makes a soft sound in his sleep, pressing closer to Hailey, who burrows into the warmth he offers. Their faces smooth in sleep, bodies curving toward each other like petals closing at dusk. I could stand and watch them forever. It’s a sort of peace that only comes in these rare moments.
Jax stretches as he stands, all muscle and barely contained power. His jaw has a shadow of a beard and he gives it a scratch as he steps forward. My focus dives immediately out of no fault of mine. It’s pretty fucking hard to ignore Jax when he’s aroused and his boxers do little to hide his morning situation. Despite that, neither of us acknowledges it. Pretty sure I’ve heard him handling his problems every morning while I do the same. None of us are talking about it, but the heavy concoction of omega pheromones in this house will eventually drive us all insane. The only one who doesn’t seem affected is Ren. Or maybe he is affected and that’s why he’s mysteriously absent this morning.
“Time?” Jax asks, still scratching absently at his jaw.
“Just past seven.” I keep my voice low, though our omegas seem dead to the world. “Office today?” I study Jax. Our argument yesterday seems to have blown over but the fact remains. He was right. I put our omegas in danger. I shouldn’t have stepped away from them for even a second. And Finn… Poor Finn. He shouldn’t have had to fight. That’s what he’s got me for. That’s what they both have me for.
But Jax doesn’t bring up what happened. He was never the one to hold grudges. That’s why he’s our leader. Always level-headed. He nods, gaze drawn back to the nest like he can’t help himself. “That merger isn’t going to fuck itself up.”
I snort softly. “Could probably manage it just fine without you.”
“Probably.” A small smile plays at his lips. “You staying?”
My eyes drift back to our sleeping omegas. “Someone needs to watch our little birds.”
The endearment slips out without thought, but it feels right. They do look like birds—Hailey especially, all quick movements and startled eyes, ready to take flight at the slightest provocation. And Finn…Finn who builds nests and nurtures and protects with fierce devotion.
Jax’s expression softens almost imperceptibly. “Birds, Stone?”
“You don’t think so?” I nod toward how they’re cuddled together, all soft edges and quiet breaths. “Could’ve fooled me.”
He rolls his eyes, but there’s fondness there. And something else—like a weight has lifted from his shoulders. “Try not to mother-hen them too much while I’m gone.”
“Try not to terrorize our employees with that beard,” I counter. “You look like you’ve been living in the woods.”
His middle finger appears as he heads for the door, but he pauses in the hallway. “Seen Ren? ”
I shake my head. His brow furrows, his gaze moving down the hall to Ren’s closed door. “Stone?”
“Mm?”
“Last night…” He hesitates, and I see the alpha in him warring with something softer. “Finn…I thought I was going to have to watch him shatter. But Hailey…” He glances back at the nest, where they’re still tangled together. “She knew exactly what he needed. Somehow she just…caught all his broken pieces and handed them back to him.”
My gaze shifts to our omegas, too. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “Seems like she did.”
He nods, a moment heavy with unsaid things settling between us before he turns and disappears down the hall. His footsteps fade, followed by the distant sound of the shower starting.
I head downstairs and settle into making breakfast, trying to focus on the simple tasks rather than the mingled scents of contentment drifting down from upstairs. The rhythm of chopping fresh fruit, whisking eggs, and brewing coffee helps ground me. Even the sizzle of bacon provides a welcome distraction from thoughts of soft limbs tangled in the nest.
I try not to burn the food. Can’t have Hailey thinking I’m completely useless in the kitchen. There’s something about her—her cautious eyes, her quiet appreciation—that makes me want to prove I can provide more than just protection. I try to cook as well as Finn can, but I fail. The bacon’s slightly too crisp, the eggs not quite as fluffy as when he makes them.
By the time I finish, the sound of the front door closing signals Jax’s departure. I hurry and plate the food. Minutes later, soft footsteps on the stairs make my hands still. Two sets of footsteps. Their scents reach me before they do—Finn’s sage mixing with Hailey’s honey-sweet notes in a way that makes my mouth water. My cock responds immediately and I’m suddenly thankful for the kitchen island blocking the view.
The house has become a minefield of arousal triggers: lingering scents in the rooms when they linger too long, the couch cushions carrying traces of their sleep-warm skin, the way their pheromones seem to multiply when they’re together. I’ve woken up hard every morning, spent countless cold showers trying to drown out the sweet honey-sage combination that seems to have seeped into the very walls. And the worst thing? I’m pretty sure Jax and Ren are suffering the same while we all try to keep poker faces. I knew this would be hard, but it’s getting harder every single day. The only problem is, our cocks don’t care about all the other stress or bullshit coming our way.
“Something smells amazing,” Finn says as they enter, Hailey half-hidden behind his frame.
I gesture to the island where I’ve set out plates. “Help yourselves.”
They settle at the counter together, shoulders touching. Hailey’s hair is sleep-mussed, falling into her face as she peers at the spread before her. When she reaches for a bowl of berries, her oversized sleeve—one of Finn’s shirts—slips down her arm.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and the simple gratitude in her voice makes something inside me twist.
I busy myself with cleaning up, giving them space even though every alpha instinct screams to be closer. To touch. To provide. To protect. As their combined scents fill the room, I almost break my cock against the cupboard door from spinning around too fast.
“Fuck.”
“Are you alright?” Finn is already rising from his seat.
No, my cock is as hard as a metal pipe and all I can recall is images of you calling my name so sweetly as you took my knot . But I can’t say that. Not in front of Hailey. I don’t want to scare her. Fuck, just thinking of her is putting images of her soft curves in my head. I’m a fucking ass.
“I’m fine.” I grunt. “What are your plans for today?” I keep my tone casual as I wipe down the counter.
Finn swallows a bite of eggs. “Thought I’d teach Hailey some weaving. The therapist said working with my hands would help with the anxiety. It sorta has. Maybe it will help Hailey, too.”
Right, his therapist. The same one that he’s been working with since the accident. The same one that advised us to give him space. Space that turned into distance and a hole in our bond nobody of us knows how to fix. Not even the professionals.
Hailey ducks her head, but I catch her small smile. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“That’s okay.” From the sound of Finn’s voice, I can already tell he’s getting excited. “We’ll start simple.”
I watch them finish breakfast from the corner of my eye, noting how Hailey slowly relaxes, how she leans into Finn when he makes a silly joke about bacon. She’s talking more, too. Unprompted. Meeting my gaze more and more often. She’s almost unrecognizable from the omega I found in that cabin. And that’s all because of Finn.
When they’re done, they migrate to the sitting room where Finn sets up a small lap loom.
I try to stay away. Fuck, I really do. It works somewhat. After bathing the downstairs bathroom in bleach in my efforts to clean, the scent drowns out some of theirs and my cock finally settles down. But the moment I exit the room, the sound of their quiet voices draws me like a magnet. I head back to the kitchen, bringing my laptop with me. I try to focus on my research into this Academy and anyone named ‘Widow’. When that returns nothing, I try to focus on work that needs to be done, but my attention keeps drifting to where they sit on the floor. Hailey’s brow is furrowed in concentration as Finn demonstrates the basic over-under pattern.
“Like this?” she asks, fingers fumbling with the yarn.
“Almost. Here, try—” Finn adjusts her grip, but she keeps dropping the shuttle.
Before I can stop myself, I’m moving into the room. “May I?”
They both look up at me, and something passes between us—memory of those early nights after the accident when I would help Finn with projects just like this. When touch between us was not as strained.
Hailey nods, and I settle behind her, my legs bracketing hers. She’s so small between my thighs, her back straight with tension.
The contrast of our bodies—my bulk against her delicate frame—sparks a wild satisfaction deep in my chest. This close, her scent is intoxicating, pure and sweet. I stiffen my spine just so I don’t lean closer. Think about something horrible. Like lost ducklings or something else heartbreaking .
“Relax,” I murmur, reaching around to cover her hands with mine. But I’m not even sure I’m telling her to relax or myself. “It’s all about finding the rhythm.”
Her fingers are cold against my palms as I guide them through the motions. “Over, under, just like that. Feel how it flows?”
She nods, and I feel some of the tension leave her shoulders. Her head tips back slightly, and that’s when it hits me—what’s happening. She’s letting me touch her. Guide her. No panic, no fear. Just trust.
The realization makes me go completely still, my hands frozen over hers on the shuttle. Finn’s eyes meet mine over her head, and I see my own shock reflected there. This is the closest any of us, me, Jax, or Ren, have been able to get to her without triggering a panic response.
“This is…” Hailey’s voice is soft, contemplative. “Different than I thought it would be.”
“Different good?” Finn asks, tone cautious.
She nods, her fingers flexing slightly under mine. “Less complicated. When you break it down into simple movements like this…”
My scent shifts with possession before I can control it. Hailey inhales sharply, a small sound escaping her throat that makes both Finn and me freeze.
I start to pull away, but another whimper escapes her throat .
“No, please,” she whispers. “Show me again? I think I almost had it.”
I look at Finn, seeking guidance. He gives me a small nod, his own scent weaving between ours.
“Okay,” I say softly, settling back. “Let’s try again. Over and under…”
She relaxes back against me incrementally as we work, each pass of the shuttle more confident than the last. Finn watches us with soft eyes.
“You’re a natural,” he tells her, and her answering smile lights up the room.
The peaceful moment shatters with the bang of the front door. We all startle at the sound of stumbling, followed by a heavy thud in the foyer.
I’m on my feet instantly, protective instincts flaring. But the scent that hits me is familiar—Ren, but wrong. Sour with expensive whiskey and something darker.
The wrongness in Ren’s scent sends ice through my veins, driving back the pleasant haze of arousal that’s been clouding my thoughts all morning. Something has happened. My gaze shifts instinctively to our omegas, the need to shelter them from whatever storm Ren has brought home overwhelming every other thought. The memory of the accident flashes through my mind—another time Ren stumbled home every night with that same haunted look, another time our world tilted on its axis. Whatever has happened, I need to contain it before it can touch what we’ve started to rebuild.
“Stay here,” I tell them, but footsteps behind me indicate neither omega is listening. Finn is at my back and although Hailey hesitates, the soft pads of her feet tell me she is following right behind him. When we round the corner, Ren is sprawled on the floor, trying and failing to push himself up.
“Fuck,” I breathe, dropping to my knees beside him. He reeks of alcohol and his usually immaculate suit is wrinkled, tie askew. “Ren? ”
His eyes are unfocused when they find mine, then slide past to where Finn hovers anxiously. “Beautiful,” he slurs. “So beautiful.”
“I’ll get water and the first aid kit,” Finn says, disappearing toward the kitchen.
I haul Ren up, bracing his weight against my chest. He’s freezing—must have walked up the drive in the morning chill. “What happened? I haven’t seen you like this since?—”
“The gala,” Ren interrupts, voice thick. “Remember the gala, Finn? All those years ago?” He’s speaking to empty air—Finn’s still in the kitchen.
Hailey kneels beside us, surprising me by reaching out to brush Ren’s disheveled hair from his face. Her hands are shaking like she’s going through some kind of internal battle, but she doesn’t pull away. She’s fighting whatever it is. If Ren wasn’t being an absolute fuckup right now, I’d have the brain space to marvel at her strength.
“Hadtosaveyou,” Ren continues, words running together. “The moment I saw you there, in that pink suit. Knew I had to save you. They were going to—but I couldn’t let them. Couldn’t let them take you.”
Finn returns with supplies, face pale. “Take me where? Ren, you’re not making sense.”
“My family.” Ren’s laugh is bitter. “Always my family. Been fighting them so long. But you—you were different. So precious. You saw me, Finn, not just some rich alpha bastard. Me . I had…had to protect you. Failed though, didn’t I? The accident…” His voice cracks. “I killed—” I go still, muscles locking as I pray he doesn’t expose everything right here, right now. “I killed us.”
That familiar pain in my chest, that gaping hole in our bond, spasms. For a moment, the world centers only on those words. Finn doesn’t know. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened two years ago. We kept it from him. I’d die before he finds out like this.
“Ren—” I grab him by the collar, but he doesn’t seem to notice .
“That wasn’t your fault,” Finn says the way he always does, but Ren shakes his head violently.
“My fault. Everything’s my fault. Saw them today. They’re still—still doing it. Can’t stop them. Can’t save everyone like I saved you.”
That stops me short and I exchange looks with Finn over Ren’s head. In all our years together, I’ve never heard him talk about his family like this. He’s always kept that part of his life carefully separate.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I say, but Ren clutches at my shirt.
“Don’t you see?” he pleads, looking between us with glassy eyes. “The gala. They were hunting. That’s what they do. But I saw him first. Saw my Finn first. Had to make him mine before they could—before?—”
He pitches forward suddenly, and I barely manage to keep him from face-planting. His next words are muffled against my chest.
“Love him so much. Too much. Shouldn’t have driven that night. Should have been more careful with precious things.”
Finn’s hands have stilled on the first aid kit. His face is ashen. “Ren,” he says softly. “What exactly did they do to you?”
But Ren has finally passed out, breath evening into alcohol-heavy exhalations. The silence that follows is deafening.
Hailey is the one who breaks it. “I can help you clean him up.”
I help Ren to the couch, laying him down gently despite my anger and the worry threading through me. But beneath all that is concern. Whatever happened today has broken something in him, something that alcohol couldn’t numb. As I step back, watching Hailey approach with tentative compassion, I wonder what demons he’d been out there fighting alone.
Ren
I went back. Back to the house. Back to talk to them.
My head falls back against what feels like the couch cushions. Someone is next to me—honey and vanilla. Someone that smells too good, too soothing, when I’d rather feel it all. All the anger. All the pain. All the disgust.
I groan, remembering as the taxi left me just outside the gates of that place…
—
The wrought iron gates still gleam, stretching toward a sky that’s too bright for my pounding head. I shouldn’t have come. Not even the fucking whiskey in my blood is giving me enough courage. Every instinct screams to turn around, but I force myself up the winding drive, past manicured gardens that hide too many secrets.
The house looms ahead—all gleaming windows and pristine white stone. Perfect. Too perfect. Like a mask worn too long. How many times had I stood at my bedroom window, watching cars arrive late at night, trying to convince myself I was imagining things?
Until Finn. Until I saw him at that gala, pink suit making him glow under the chandeliers. Something in the way my parents watched him made my blood run cold. I’d never moved so fast in my life. Never been so certain of anything as I was when I made sure he left with me that night. Made sure he stayed with me.
The doorbell’s chime hasn’t changed. Still that same pretentious Westminster melody that echoes through marble halls. I hear footsteps—the quick, light tread I’d know anywhere.
When the door opens, Mother’s smile freezes on her face. She’s still beautiful, all elegant lines and perfect posture. The omega that brought my sires to their knees. But there are new threads of silver in her dark hair. New wrinkles that weren’t there the last time I saw her. Her omega scent catches me off guard—honey threaded with jasmine, so similar to Hailey’s it makes something war in my chest.
“Ren?” Her voice wavers, her face falling. “What are you?—”
“Who is it?” A deeper voice calls from inside. Heavy footsteps approach, and then Dad appears behind Mother, his hand settling possessively on her shoulder. “Well. You’ve got some nerve showing up here, after what you’ve done.”
The familiar rage rises, hot and choking. The whiskey doesn’t fucking help. “What I’ve done ?” I bark out a laugh. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
“Marcus,” Mother murmurs, “perhaps we should?—”
“Let him in?” Another voice joins the tableau. Father emerges from the shadows of the foyer, every bit as imposing as I remember. His ice-blue eyes—my eyes—narrow. “After he nearly destroyed everything we built?”
“Built?” The word tastes like vomit in my mouth. Or maybe it really is vomit. Perhaps I drank too much beforehand. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
Dad’s grip tightens on Mother’s shoulder. “You made your choice, boy. The day you took that omega and ran?—”
“His name is Finn.” My hands shake. “And I didn’t take him. I saved him.”
“Saved him?” Father stalks forward, and I see where I got my temper from. “You sabotaged a perfectly planned function. Cost us valuable connections. And for what? Some pretty thing that caught your eye?”
“I told you to end it.” My voice rises. “After Finn, I told you to stop. All of it.”
“End it?” Father laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You have some nerve, coming here asking questions after what you took from us.”
The words hit me like ice water, pushing back some of the alcohol clouding my brain. “What I took from you? ”
“Playing innocent?” Father stalks closer, his alpha scent becoming overwhelming. “The files you destroyed? The connections you severed? Years of work, gone in a single night.”
Memory flashes—breaking into Father’s study that night after the gala, desperate to find proof. But all I’d found were encrypted files, networks of shell companies. In my rage, I’d destroyed everything I could get my hands on.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The lie tastes bitter. “I came to ask,” I take a breath, “What do you know about a place called the Reform Academy? What do you know about Widow?”
Mother’s breath catches. Dad’s hand tightens on her shoulder.
“The Academy?” Father’s laugh is ugly. “You think we’d tell you anything? After you burned our legacy to the ground?”
“Your legacy?” The words burst out before I can stop them. “You have no legacy.”
Father snarls. “Yes. You made sure of that.” He motions to Dad to shut the door in my face as he tugs Mother toward him. I stop the oak with my boot.
“Tell me what you know. If there is any bit of a conscience left within you, tell me…or at least point me in the right direction.”
Dad’s eyes are cold. He shakes his head. “You never did understand the business, did you? Too busy playing hero to your precious omega.”
“Don’t talk about Finn.” My hands are shaking now.
“The omega that made you destroy everything?” Father sneers. “Tell me, does he know what you did? Does he know about Amaya? Does he know you’re not the white knight you pretend to be?”
The mention of that name makes something break inside me.
Amaya. My sister.
The omega who died because I made a choice. Her face swims before me—so similar to Mother’s, but with Father’s stubborn jaw. The last time I saw her alive, she was in the other vehicle. Right before the accident that changed our lives forever. “I’m nothing like you?—”
“No?” Father’s voice is soft now, dangerous. “Then why are you here, asking about the Academy? Looking for more secrets to destroy?”
The realization hits me slowly—they’re not going to tell me. Even if they know, they won’t offer any assistance.
“This was a mistake.” I back away from the door. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“No,” Father agrees coldly. “You shouldn’t have. You’re not welcome here anymore, Ren. Whatever you’re looking for, whatever answers you think we have—they died the night you chose to betray us. They died the night you killed your sister. ”
The world, what little color was left in it, goes gray.
I choke on something. My own tongue, as I almost lose my footing down the steps.
Mother makes a soft sound, like she wants to speak, but Father leads her away before she can. Only Dad remains, watching me with eyes that mirror my tortured soul.
“The Academy,” he says quietly. “Stay away from it, boy. Some questions are better left unasked.”
—
The memory fragments dissolve into the pounding of my head. Something cool touches my forehead—a cloth?—and a sweet scent reaches through the haze. Honey…
Mother?
No. Wrong. The scent is wrong. But in my fevered state, all I can see is that house, those eyes watching me with contempt. All I can feel is the rage and confusion and guilt…
My hand shoots out, finding a throat. Soft. Delicate. I squeeze, snarling, “You don’t get to judge me?—”
A choked gasp. Small hands clutching at my wrist. The sound is distant, unreal, like I’m underwater. In my mind, I’m still in that marble foyer, still facing those cold eyes that look like mine…
Pain explodes across my jaw. My head snaps back and I taste blood. The impact sends me sprawling, and suddenly the world crashes back into focus. Stone stands over me, chest heaving, his fist still raised. Behind him, Hailey collapses forward, coughing, one hand at her throat.
Horror floods me as reality sets in. Oh god. What have I done?
“Hailey?” Finn’s voice, sharp with worry. He appears in the doorway, takes in the scene. His eyes move from Stone’s protective stance to Hailey’s huddled form, to me on the floor. Understanding dawns in his expression, followed by something worse than anger—disappointment.
“I’ve got her,” he says quietly, moving to help Hailey up. She’s still coughing, but she lets him guide her. As they pass, I catch a glimpse of angry red marks blooming on her pale throat. Marks from my hands.
I try to stand, to explain, but Stone’s growl freezes me in place.
“Don’t. Move.”
The command in his voice hits my alpha hindbrain like the punch he just delivered to my jaw. I stay where I am, tasting copper where my lip split against my teeth.
Finn pauses at the door, Hailey tucked protectively against his side. The look he gives me…I’ve seen that look before. In Mother’s eyes after Amaya…after Amaya died.
“Finn,” I choke out. “I didn’t mean?—”
“Not now.” His voice is soft but final. Then they’re gone, footsteps retreating upstairs, leaving me with Stone and the weight of what I’ve done.
The silence stretches, broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing. Stone stays between me and the door, his scent sharp with barely contained rage.
“Explain.” The word falls like a stone into still water. “Now.”
I press my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the image of those marks on Hailey’s throat. “I was dreaming. Remembering. I thought…” The words stick in my throat. “I thought she was someone else.”
“Someone else.” Stone’s voice is deadly quiet. “You were drunk enough to mistake our traumatized omega for someone else and wrap your hands around her throat?”
“I went to see my family.” The confession tastes like charcoal in my throat. “I thought…I thought I could get answers about the Academy. About all of it. But they just…”
“So you got drunk and came home to assault one of our omegas?” His control slips, anger bleeding into his voice. “The omega we rescued from people who hurt her? Who’s finally starting to trust us?”
Each word is a knife, but I deserve worse. “I never meant?—”
“To what ?” Stone cuts me off. “To prove to her that alphas really are the monsters she fears? To destroy all our progress in seconds?”
“I’m sorry.” The words are inadequate, meaningless. “Stone, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” He runs a hand through his hair, visibly trying to rein in his temper. “For fuck’s sake, Ren. What the hell happened at your parents’?”
I shake my head, unable to explain the years of suspicion, the weight of secrets, the desperate need to protect what’s mine. “They wouldn’t tell me anything. About any of it. They just…” I swallow hard. “They said I destroyed everything. That night after the gala, when I met Finn. Said I burned their legacy to the ground.”
“And did you?”
“I thought…” The room spins slightly. “I thought I was stopping something. Saving people. But now I don’t know if…” I break off, nausea rising. “What if I was wrong? What if I destroyed the wrong things? What if I made it worse?”
Stone is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is careful. “Whatever happened that night, whatever you did or didn’t do…that’s not what matters right now. What matters is that you came home drunk, lost control, and hurt someone who trusted us to protect her.”
The truth of it hits me like another punch. “I know.”
“Do you?” He crouches down, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Because right now, I’m wondering if I can trust you around our omegas at all.”
The words cut deeper than the knife I can already feel in my gut. “Stone?—”
“No.” He turns away, and suddenly he looks tired. “I need you to leave. Get yourself together. When you’re sober, when you can control yourself, then we’ll talk about what happens next.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“Anywhere but here.” He moves toward the door, then pauses. “And Ren? If you ever lay hands on either of our omegas like that again, I won’t stop at one punch.”
He leaves me there, on the floor with my split lip and spinning head and the knowledge that I’ve become exactly what I spent years trying to fight.
The monster who hurts omegas.