Chapter 1 #2
I push the sandwich away, hunger replaced by the familiar tension headache that blooms whenever we circle this particular drain. “Can we not do this today?”
“I want you to have options beyond—” She gestures at my tactical pants and boots. “Beyond this path.”
“You want me with a safe Alpha.” My words come out sharper than intended. “One who’ll keep me at home.”
“Is that so terrible?”
“No,” I snap. “But I already have an Alpha.”
Her hands still on the counter. “Jade, not this again.”
“Aaiden is my Alpha. You know it. I know it.” My knuckles turn white as I grip the island. “Everyone in this house knows it.”
When I first began to train, I thought it was why Caleb took me under his wing to teach me the family business.
But lately, I’m not so sure. It wouldn’t be the first time I read too much into something.
It’s not as if Caleb goes around emoting.
It’s a mystery how the ice-cold Alpha landed himself a mate.
But then, Oliver is a little twisted, too.
I shove the thought aside. “Aaiden’s just being stubborn about it. And your opinion on the matter isn’t helping.”
“He’s too old for you,” she protests, the familiar refrain an argument we’ve had dozens of times. “He’s twice your age.”
“That may have been true when I first presented, but fifteen years difference isn’t bad now. Besides, age doesn’t matter with true mates.”
“And what about station?” Her voice rises. “Class? The world outside these walls?”
Heat creeps up my neck. “What about them?”
She sets down her dishcloth with deliberate care. “Sometimes I think it was wrong of me to raise you here, alongside the Rockford boys. It’s put ideas in your head about—”
She presses her lips together, reconsidering her words. “We’re treated as family, yes. I love those boys like my own. But we’re not billionaires, Jade. We need to remember where we stand.”
The words sting like a slap. “So, I’m not good enough? Is that it?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Yes, it is.” I stand, the stool scraping across the floor. “Since when do you care about money and status?”
“Since I watched you break your heart over an Alpha who—” She stops herself.
“Who what?”
She reaches for the dish towel again to busy her hands. “Who hasn’t claimed you.”
“He was going to before I was captured. I could feel it. What happened to me has him hesitating now, but he’ll come around.”
She pales. “Jade, please.”
“No, let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about how every single Rockford has claimed an Omega below their precious station.
” My volume rises with each example. “Sebastian claimed Micah, who was a cam boy. Nolan claimed Leo, a waiter. Liam claimed Milo, who he purchased as a slave. Damien scooped Phoenix off the freaking driveway. Tell me again how I’m reaching too high. ”
The kitchen falls silent except for my ragged breathing.
My mother stares at me through a shimmer of unshed tears. “If Aaiden thought you were his, you wouldn’t be unclaimed right now. You’ve seen it eight times over in the last year. Rockford Alphas don’t leave their Omegas waiting if they’re truly theirs.”
I flinch as if struck.
Regret washes over her face. “Baby, I didn’t mean—”
She reaches toward me, her hand outstretched to touch my cheek in the way she used to when comforting me. I stand frozen, hungry for any physical touch that doesn’t make my skin crawl.
But her hand stops an inch from contact, hovering in the space between us.
Uncertainty and fear flicker in her eyes, and she withdraws, redirecting to push the sandwich plate closer to me instead. “Please eat before you go.”
The untouched skin where her hand should have connected burns. Six months, and my own mother still can’t bring herself to touch me. The realization sits like a stone in my stomach, crushing what little appetite I had left.
As my phone vibrates in my pocket with the alert to prepare for tonight’s mission, I’ve never been so grateful for an interruption.
“I need to go.” I turn from the island, leaving the sandwich with only one bite taken from it.
“Jade—” Her breath catches. “I’m sorry. I only want you to be happy.”
I pause at the doorway, not turning back to her. “I know.”
“Be careful tonight,” she calls after me.
Not wanting to lie, I don’t respond as I step out into the hallway and stride toward the war room.
A blast of artificial cool blows my hair back as I push through the door.
Unlike the rest of Rockford Manor, with its polished wood and old-money charm, this space has been brought into the tech era.
A large table dominates the center of the room, with a built-in monitor embedded in the center.
Panels in the ceiling allow for drop-down screens, and cabinets in the walls hide weapons.
Sebastian, second son of the head family, is already there waiting with the equipment for my job tonight, his scarred face impassive as he clicks away on his tablet.
“Right on time,” he says without raising his head. “Gear’s ready.”
I move to the preparation area, shedding my regular clothes for the base layer of tactical gear. The fabric slides cool over my skin, hugging my slender form.
Sebastian approaches with the chest plate. “Arms up.”
I comply, and the weight of the armor settles across my torso. The straps pull tight under Sebastian’s experienced fingers, the buckles making a satisfying click as they lock into place.
He checks the fit along my ribs without touching me. “Too tight?”
I roll my shoulders, testing the range of motion. I hate wearing this thing, but it’s one of many concessions I made to be able to go on my hunts. “It’s good.”
I grab the holster from the table and slide it along my waistband at my back, angling it to sit behind my hip.
The motion is automatic at this point, muscle memory guiding it into place.
The vest presses it closer than it would sit on its own.
I shift my stance, testing the range. Forward. Turn. Reach.
Not comfortable, but it’s workable.
I slide the small gun into place. Caleb had trained me to take my hits at long range with a rifle, but for these kills, I like to be up close and personal.
He calls it reckless, which is why he doesn’t go with me on these jobs.
The emotionless Alpha doesn’t understand playing with kills unless they have information to extract.
I add an arm sheath and ankle sheath for my knives and a garrote wire disguised as a bracelet. It goes on the wrist I don’t wear a watch on for minimal interference.
Sebastian lifts a black case from the table and holds it out. I pluck the small black communicator from it and peel off the sticky backing. It’s no larger than the tip of my pinkie and slides under my nape guard. Another goes behind my ear.
“Testing comms,” Sebastian says, stepping back to his monitoring station.
I press the activation point behind my ear. “Check one-two.”
“Clear reception,” Sebastian confirms, the static crackling through my earpiece.
A shift in the air pulls my attention to the doorway, where Aaiden now stands, his tall body filling the frame.
His broad shoulders strain the black tactical fabric, the material clinging to every sculpted muscle.
The hallway light catches on his well-defined jawline, casting shadows that accentuate the fullness of lips I’ve fantasized about tasting for almost six years now.
For one heartbeat, I let myself look at him, heat pooling low in my stomach as I imagine those powerful hands gripping my hips.
“Ready?” Aaiden’s gaze drops to my throat before moving lower, lingering on the slight bulge betraying my reaction to him. “Or should we call off tonight’s job? You appear…distracted.”
Aware that Sebastian is right there, pretending not to listen, embarrassed heat floods my cheeks. “I’m fine.”
Before I was taken, Aaiden never would have stepped into the field with me. But when Caleb refused to back me up, and I made it clear his refusal wouldn’t stop me, the head of the Rockford family had taken over handling me.
I spent six years chasing Aaiden’s attention, craving his focus, and engineering reasons to be in his orbit. Now I have it. Only, it’s his complete, professional attention. He tracks my movements, monitors my missions, and ensures I’m equipped and briefed.
But there’s nothing of the heat that used to simmer between us. Nothing of the man who used to laugh with me in the kitchen at midnight, who taught me to drive on the back roads of the estate when he caught me stealing one of their cars, whose eyes would linger when he thought I wouldn’t notice.
He’s replaced it all with clinical concern and professional distance, turning himself into my handler rather than my Alpha.
And the wound of it bleeds fresh every time we’re in the same room.