CHAPTER TWO
DUSTIN
THE OMEGA’S RETURN
She’s back. Harper Butler should’ve stayed at Lexington University.
Now she’s at my school. In my class. When I stepped into the class my eyes immediately landed on her rich dark coils.
Her caramel side profile and that beautiful button nose I fucking loved.
I’d always know it’s her. Her gentle hands, strong legs, or her pretty fucking feet.
I don’t want her here. She should’ve stayed gone. Her being back only complicates my life. My packs life. My brothers never recovered after she betrayed me.
I lean in one more time. “You’ll sit in that seat for every econ class,” I order.
“Dustin,” she grits out.
Then a whine slips from her causing my knot to swell. Fuck.
The little omega has to obey my order. I smirk.
I dart out the class. My gaze sweeps over my pack.
Sawyer bounces off the wall first. “Is she really here?”
“Don’t let her see you like this,” I grit out.
“Like what? Fucking broken.”
We all took it hard when we lost Harper. I handle my anger about her betrayal differently than Sawyer. The loss of her interferes with his life on a larger scale. He grew a beard. The man looked like a lumberjack. But it’s neatly trimmed. His brown hair no longer looks like a brown mop.
His gray eyes light up, telling me she’s near.
“Hello Harper.” A smile rises and falls on his face as she steps in front of him.
She halts to my left, but doesn’t look at me.
Her hand opens and closes at her side. She’s fighting to keep her hands off him.
Our scents kick up and the tension in our pack is evident.
We’ve known each other since we were pups and can identify when one of us is upset or sad. Once we find an omega to complete our pack we’ll bite her and form a bond. Then we’ll be able to sense each other through our bond.
Archer scratches along his nape as he stares at her.
Thatcher’s hands are stuffed in his pockets as he leans against the wall drinking her in.
“You grew a beard.” She reaches up.
“It looks good on you.” She smiles.
“Don’t fucking touch him,” Archer growls.
She drops her hand at her side.
“Fuck you, Archer.” Sawyer takes her hand, places it on his jaw and marks it with his scent. Musk, vanilla, and caramel exploding around us.
Great now, Harper’s coming between our pack again.
He’s purring now and Harper reacts to it. Her shoulders loosen as she gets locked under his spell.
“What the fuck, Sawyer?” I bite out.
Archer appears ripping her hand from Sawyer’s face. “Go to class, Harper.”
Her watery brown eyes meet mine then Thatcher’s before she storms off.
“That was nice, Sawyer. We don’t want her, remember?” I say.
Archer places his hands on Sawyer’s face. “I need you to pull it together.”
“Why couldn’t I smell her?” Sawyer asks.
I throw my hands in the air. “Fuck, Sawyer’s broken.”
Thatcher steps closer and palms Sawyer’s shoulder. “Pull it together for the pack.”
Sawyer blows out a breath. “I’m good,” he lies and walks out the building probably to stalk Harper.
My pack brother gives in to her because she didn’t accuse him of cheating. She accused me.
That nightmare repeats every single night.
Harper’s voice echoed through the hallway intercom that day, calling me a dusty cheater.
My heart shattered into a thousand fragments.
The omega meant to be our mate had accused me of betrayal.
Sarah had always flirted with me and the other alphas, but we rejected her every time.
We never wanted her. My brothers and I had intended to bond with Harper as soon as she awakened.
She was the one for us. Not anymore. I despise her. I hate her for labeling me a cheater. I hate her for tearing our pack apart. Now that she’s back, I’m determined to make her life miserable here at Greywood University.
***
Dressed in a heavy crimson robe, the hood shadowing my raven hair, I stand in an underground tunnel, a single candle flickering in my grasp, our only light.
Thatcher is to my left. Sawyer to my right.
Archer, president of the Wolves, stands before us.
“Brothers,” Archer says, his voice echoing off the damp walls. “It’s initiation week.”
He pauses, eyes sharp beneath his hood. “Are your pledges ready?”
“Yes, brother,” Thatcher answers.
“Yes, brother,” I say.
“Yes, brother,” Sawyer adds.
“Good.” Archer nods. “Eight p.m. sharp. Meet at the large rock on the far end of campus.”
He lowers his hood. Short red curls catch the candlelight, glowing like embers. “These better be your best recruits. Our fathers are breathing down my neck.”
“We’ve got your back brother,” I say.
“We understand how important this initiation is,” Thatcher states.
“The alphas we selected will strengthen the Wolves,” Sawyer confirms.
The Wolves have ruled the shadows of Greywood for sixty years. An elite, alpha-only secret society founded on power, affluence, and legacy.
As legacy Wolves, the expectations placed on us are higher.
Heavier. We aren’t just inducted, we’re forged.
Trained by Special Operatives, alphas who taught us how to fight, survive, and eliminate threats without hesitation.
We are expected to be combat-ready at all times.
Sometimes that means rooting out corrupt, vile scum involved in heinous crimes like sex trafficking.
Other times, it means going head-to-head with rival societies willing to spill blood for dominance.
There are twenty secret societies across the United States.
The Wolves are ranked number one. Everyone wants our position. Holding it means our hands don’t stay clean.
As part of our initiation, we dismantled a drug-smuggling and sex-trafficking operation embedded in Greywood. The message was clear. No one deals fentanyl in our town and lives to repeat it.
That was the night we stopped being boys. We’ve been killing our enemies since we were eighteen. And the price of wearing the wolf has always been the same:
do what must be done or become the next problem.
Last year’s recruits proved corrupt. The former president was forced out, and Archer was sworn in to clean up the rot.
Initiation night, we all wear wolf-head masks with long, exaggerated snouts. The pledges can’t tell us apart as we watch them all night.
It keeps them honest.
I turn and slide the candle into its iron wall holder.
Sawyer yanks off his hood. “May I be dismissed?”
“Yes,” Archer says.
Sawyer grins. “Perfect. I’ve got class with Harper.”
My snarl rips free before I can stop it. “What the fuck, Sawyer? You’re not supposed to interact with her. She’s our enemy.”
He steps into my space. At six-five, I’m used to towering over most men—but Sawyer’s six-six now, his presence solid, unyielding. Just a couple of years ago, he was shorter than me.
“I stood by you in high school,” he says quietly. “But something in my soul says we went too far.”
“Last time I checked,” I snap, “Harper was my omega.”
The words taste bitter now.
“She told the entire school I cheated,” I continue. “She didn’t ask. She accused.”
“I want to make things right with her,” Sawyer says.
I shove both palms into his massive chest. His linebacker build barely shifts, but it’s enough.
He growls and fists my robe, yanking me close. “Make it right, Dustin,” he snarls. “She’s our fucking mate.”
A dark laugh rumbles from my chest. “You don’t know that.”
Anger burns hot in my veins.
Sawyer’s expression softens, just a fraction. “I can’t explain it. I just feel it. Deep.”
Archer steps in, his broad hands forcing us apart. Another giant at six-six, radiating authority.
Thatcher moves closer, his growl low in Sawyer’s ear. “We’re a pack. That means we stand together.”
Sawyer’s lip curls. “Then you’d better get on board because if you don’t, Harper will belong to me.”
He disappears into the darkness.
Silence stretches between us.
I look at Archer. “How do you feel about Harper being back?”
His eyes darken. Anger radiates off his body.
“You already know,” he says quietly. “A part of me has been broken without her.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them, green gaze moving between Thatcher and me. “We move on. We find a mate.”
Thatcher drags a hand through his blond hair beneath the hood. “A new mate,” he mutters. “Right. Sure.”
Then he vanishes into the tunnel.
I meet Archer’s gaze one last time. “A new mate it is.”
But deep down, I know the truth.
There has only ever been one mate for our pack.