22. Chapter 22
22
“It’s like a sleepover.” Bram bounced on his bed as I spread out my multicolored quilt. My mother spent a whole winter making it, and I treasured each square. What would she say about my treatment of Esta?
She was a fine woman with a strong moral compass and a love that showed through caretaking.
I hated omegas long before Claudia, blaming Oliver’s mom for shattering my parent’s marriage. My father told me the truth when I was too young to process it, but bold enough to pretend.
His excuses sunk into my young mind and twisted it.
I already had him on a pedestal, and it was easy to see how beauty could break vows. Hormones made me notice all the young women in town, and there was a hunger under my skin I couldn’t understand.
I was afraid of what it meant after my father told me what he did. My brothers had put me on the same pedestal and watching me tumble from it was sobering.
I always had their support in the past. They trusted me to do the right thing. But I’d failed everyone on the ranch, especially Esta.
Winter was almost here. I could taste the bitter chill of the air and the unforgiving bite was difficult to bear this morning. Past years, winter was something I looked forward to. Reprieve from the small-minded folk of Misery Creek and their long, judgmental memories. I stockpiled books from town and longed for slow mornings, where my muscles eased and I could hibernate. The days when the snow piled against the door were the best. I had no excuse but to rest.
But the thought of being trapped in a house with Esta sent a jolt of fear down my spine. Thoughts of languid mornings with her soft form in my arms plagued me. A nightmare? A dream? I couldn’t tell anymore. I wouldn’t be able to escape her delicious scent.
“This will be Esta’s first winter with us. I hope her mood doesn’t last the entire time.” Bram continued, punching the pillow in his lap.
Pain radiated from my chest, and I breathed slowly through my nose. Esta was bedridden and sulky about it. Her huffing sighs tickled my ears, and I’d taken to pressing my ear to the door to check on her. Only when I heard the sound of her moving inside the room did the illogical fear of her fleeing settle.
Bram didn’t know what really happened to Esta. He thought her mood came from the lingering swelling on her ankle, blue and purple. The deep scrapes on her palms. The raised knob on her forehead where she’d whacked her head on the ground. Not fear of me.
They were all my fault.
“You treat her well. No pranks.” At my rough warning, Bram’s eyes widened. “I mean it.”
“Esta and I called a truce.” His expression was smug, and I reached over and ruffled his brown hair. He’d brushed it this morning and even smelled recently washed. I wished I could call a truce with Esta. But what could I say to her to explain the way I treated her? There was no excuse for the hatred I’d spewed in her direction. I pressed my cheek, where a bruise, courtesy of Ruck, bloomed. My stomach twisted in on itself. My hatred for omegas was ever present, as much as I wished it away.
You can’t dismantle long-held beliefs in a day.
But I would continue to try. I couldn’t stay ignorant of what Esta was to me, what I’d been afraid of this whole time. The feeling of obliteration and obsession wasn’t so overwhelming. Not when the prospect of her being gone was still fresh in my mind.
“I need to go check on a few things out in the field. You monitor Esta. Make sure she’s drinking her water.”
Bram muffled a laugh behind his hand, eyes twinkling. “She says she won’t because then she’ll have to pee.”
The thought of Esta holding her bladder made me want to laugh and growl. If I never found out she was an omega, how different would things be? I would be the person to care for her, to make sure she was comfortable. But now I was the reason she was frightened; sure I was going to send her back to Breton City.
Hindsight made a fool of me.
I stomped down the stairs, aware I had no right to the melancholy weight dragging down my shoulders.
“It’s damn freezing, don’t be a martyr out there,” Ruck said, meeting me at the front door. His nose was strawberry, and his cheeks flushed from cold. He jammed his hands into his pockets and slipped by me into the waiting warmth of the house.
A martyr?
There was no chance of that. Not when my every choice had been a fool’s grasp. I wrapped my scarf around my ears and nose, my hot breath a welcome sensation as I walked. I could have saddled a horse, but the long walk washed away some of the knotted tension. My boots crunched over the hardened ground, up a pathway I’d avoided for too long.
Two graves poked out of the ground, solemn and gray. I brushed off some leaves collected on the headstones. My thighs burned from the steep walk. It was an impractical place for graves, but it gave such a beautiful view of the ranch. My parents stood here when there was only dirt, mapping out the house plan, waxing poetically about the land and their future family. Planning all the beauty and joy they made into fruition. Unheeding of the cold, I slumped down on my ass and let it seep through me.
“Why did you do it?” I pleaded with my father.
What were you thinking when you bedded an omega while your sweet beta wife was at home waiting for you ?
Oliver’s mom had already died when I uncovered how she’d damaged my parent’s marriage.
No. That wasn’t right. I frowned at my father’s grave.
“I believed you all my life. That Oliver’s mom lured you in and you were overcome by her scent. But you made a choice, didn’t you?”
How it hurts when the gold sheen on your heroes rubs off. My skin burned like sandpaper was taken to it. It was simply easier to believe my father was blameless. Easier to hate a stranger than the man you loved and idolized.
He was my whole world, and when he said it was omega wiles, I latched onto the idea.
“You lied, you lied,” I mumbled to the wind.
But I’d experienced it first-hand. The way an omega could bypass logic and access the primal part of me. Something snapped behind my eyes the day Claudia shoved her heat-scent-soaked clothes at my face. My bones popped, my muscles wrenched, the sounds that came out of me were inhuman. I’d fought four other men to get to her. Her taste on my tongue turned me primal, and my mind blanked on everything except base needs.
Only Ruck’s quick thinking saved me. I brushed the scar under the beard. The ridge of it an echo of the dark time in my cell. He’d knocked me unconscious, but it wasn’t enough to mollify the humans who watched me lose control.
Public enragement.
My family had been bewildered as I was placed in shackles and sent to Breton City, imprisoned like a beast. The way my father had held my hand, his gaze hooded with sorrow. Like he understood what had befallen me.
An evil omega.
They controlled the power to turn alphas into mindless animals. Harnessed the ability to make me into what humans feared. Even now, my heart pounded. I kneaded at my forehead, a sharp pain spreading across my skull.
Oliver’s mother had been a red-headed beauty, by all accounts. Curves of an angel and the appetite of the devil. Claudia wasn’t voracious, but she flaunted an innate sensuality. A hunger she didn’t have to control. She hunted me like prey. First, she sent her father to sweet talk to me, thinking that was all it would take. She wanted me as a toddler wants a sweet. With her spoiled nature, I should have fallen in line. But I refused, too frightened of what an omega would do to my sanity. I thought she’d move on to another alpha, but she was determined to have me. She claimed not to realize the consequences of stumbling into me while in heat.
But the scent-covered material she smothered over my mouth brought my six-foot-five form to my knees. The terror I felt as my consciousness slipped away pulsed in my throat years later. It proved everything my father said that he couldn’t resist an omega.
I hadn’t been able to either.
“Esta isn’t like either of those women,” I whispered to the graves.
Even when her heat wrapped her in its thrall, she’d tried to give me an out.
I didn’t understand my father’s choice.
Claudia stole my choice with her ruthless actions.
But I chose Esta.
Her scent, taste, and sound were a siren’s call that I answered. I’d known it as soon as I knotted her. Intense pleasure but also the rightness in my chest. Like an anchor unfurling and taking up harbor inside of her. It terrified me, still did, and I fled.
I pulled out the letter she’d written me when she thought it was a good idea to gallivant off into the wildlands. I stifled the flickering rage I had no right to. She fled because of me. Because I was a fool. I teased open the edge, bringing it to my nose for a desperate smell. The faintest scent remained, but it was wishful thinking more than anything. Sitting on this hill beside my parents’ graves made me melancholy. My perspective on their relationship changed after my brothers confronted me.
Seeing Esta in Ruck’s arms drove my heart into my throat. What if she had died?
Seconds passed like minutes, and the solid ground I sat on turned.
Down.
Down.
Down I tumbled, and in my bones, I touched the truth. The one I’d been too afraid to face. How much I still loved my wife.
Her nimble fingers, quick smile, and the furrow in her brow. The way she hurtled toward tasks, plump with grit and enthusiasm. When she curled up in her armchair by the fire, because it had become her chair , with her sewing basket. She didn’t have to say a word, but her presence softened the aches of my long day.
I sifted through my memories, trying to recall when I decided omegas were dangerous. My parents loved each other. They’d built a life and legacy I held onto with white-knuckled desperation.
I wanted to do right by my brothers, hence the ad.
But I never expected to find real love. I’d been icing over for years. Esta thawed me. Esta could have been that person, but I’d let the past control me.
I pulled out the letter, my lungs full of frozen air.
Dear Hale,
I know you don’t want me to use your name, but I hope you’ll forgive me, considering it’ll be my last chance. Thank you for opening your home to me and, for a brief moment, your heart. My time as Mrs. Hartlock was the absolute joy of my life. I always wanted a place where I could be free, be myself, and for a short while, my dream came true. I am sorry for deceiving you about my Designation and for causing you distress during my heat. You deserve a wife you can love, and I hope you find her someday.
To satisfy the sheriff, I’ve enclosed a letter recanting my vows and my signature. I’m sure you could use this as proof of the dissolution of our marriage, if ever you choose to marry again. I wish you every happiness, a long and healthy life.
Kind regards,
Esta Miller
I tore the letter in two, including the ‘proof’ she’d given so I could get a divorce. My fingers ripped at the paper until the frigid wind tore the tiny fragments to the gray sky.
This was the omega I feared? Damn, she was too good for me.
She would have left me with only her signature. The way she signed her name was beautiful. The loop of it refined, elegant, a lady’s smooth hand. But Esta wasn’t a simpering maid, she was brave and bold. Ready to take herself into the wildlands to save herself.
Esta wished me every happiness after I’d treated her like utter scum. I’d ignored her, made her feel small and unworthy. I thought my anger would protect me, that it would keep me safe from the thing I was most afraid of. Being controlled by an omega. She apologized for my disgusting act of abandoning her during her heat. My stomach cramped, and I crawled away from the graves, cradling my gut.
She’d said sorry to me .
Wished me happiness that would never come because in her neat, careful handwriting, I saw truly what I had lost. The love of a generous-hearted, sweet woman who cared for me even as she prepared to ride into certain danger. Loathing shot through me, and I leaned over the cold ground, emptying my stomach. Regret stained the inside of my mouth, and I couldn’t escape it. Her apologies stripped my insides. I was the fool. I’d driven her into the wildlands, where she’d almost been attacked.
Esta had never used her Designation against me.
She was nothing like Claudia, who wanted to own me. Esta only ever wanted to share a life.
Those long nights spent in the sitting room, reading, mending, conversing. That was Esta unfurling like petals on the prettiest flower. I’d repaid her brave trust by crushing her under my boot.
As if sensing my weakness, a howl rose from the brush at the base of the hill. I watched in horror as a gigantic wolf padded out, its muzzle nosed the ground. I’d heard stories of the beast, seen tracks and the aftermath of their attacks, but I’d never seen one so close. It prowled out in the open, its focus cutting toward me. A shiver traveled down my spine and staked me to the ground. Frozen by luminous golden eyes, otherworldly and chillingly intelligent. Our gazes fought for a moment before more wolves joined him, around six, and they loped along the ground. The enormous wolf burgeoned their confidence. But he turned and snapped. The moment broke as he rounded up his family back into the cover of the trees.
Because that’s what they were, a family.
The group wrangled in one wayward cub, which reminded me so much of Bram that my chest hurt. They ran together, yipping and playing until their bushy tails disappeared into the trees again. But the gigantic wolf turned and looked at me, watching to see if I was a threat to his pack.
His pack.
I stumbled to my feet, numb with cold in my boots. Marrying Esta, bringing her to the ranch. It felt so right when I asked my brothers for help during her heat. I pressed my fists to my forehead. They loved her, wanted her, and would fight for her. They were willing to do whatever it took to make my marriage work with her, but what if that was the problem all along? Designated used to have packs until the end of the wars eighty years ago. Since then, a myriad of Designation Laws were put in place. Including the dissolution of packs. The old ways of living were considered uncivilized, dirty, and wrong. But my bones ached with the need for it.
I needed a pack.
Ruck, Oliver, Bram and Esta. Even listing out the names in my head, admitting what I wanted for us made my muscles sag with relief. This was how it was supposed to be. I stumbled back to the house, excitement mounting with each step.
Oliver was cleaning off his boots out the front of the house, and he flicked me a dismissive look as I approached. I wasn’t his favorite person right now, I couldn’t blame him for that. I grabbed hold of his upper arm, ignoring the quiet snarl he made.
“Get Ruck and meet me in the barn. We need to have a meeting right now.”
My breath was hot in my nostrils, steaming with excitement. I paced as I waited in the barn, past Charlie’s stall and Dalton’s empty one. Even out here, Esta permeated every inch of the barn. Not just with her scent but her kind, generous heart. I rubbed my chest, trying to dislodge the ache there.
“What did you want to talk about?” Ruck strode into the barn, Oliver dragged his feet after him. Ruck and I shared hazel eyes and the proud Hartlock nose. But there was a levity in him I didn’t have the luxury of as the oldest. There was a time when he would follow me anywhere, but I hadn’t just hurt Esta with my actions.
I’d damaged our entire family.
“I haven’t done right by Esta. You don’t need to tell me what I already know.” I sucked in a deep breath as Oliver snorted.
“Damn straight.”
“I went to see the graves of our parents. I know I-I’ve been a damned fool but when I was out there, I saw the wolf pack.”
“The one that attacked Esta?” Ruck’s gaze narrowed, and he headed toward the gun cabinet with tight shoulders. I waved him off, making an exasperated noise.
“Wait, just let me get this out, will you? I saw the wolves, but more importantly, I saw their pack. Designated have been living the way humans have wanted for years, but what do they know of our kind? The doctor couldn’t even scent Esta’s distress yesterday. He didn’t understand that we heal quicker and are stronger. Even an omega would be stronger than him. But we marry in their tradition, go to their church, and listen to them preach about rising above our animalistic ways. I am an animal. I feel it right here.” My hoarse voice scratched, and I thumped my chest. Ruck wandered back, his arms crossed. Oliver was feeding Charlie a handful of hay, but he was tense. Hope surged through me until my fingertips tingled.
“Designated used to live in packs. Think about how easy it was for me to come to you during Esta’s heat to beg you to help me. I should have been jealous or possessive, but I wasn’t. Something deep inside drove me to the barn, knowing Esta needed you, too. You love her, and even after everything I’ve done, I love her still. But she needs more than me. Esta deserves more. I want to live the way our ancestors did. A pack. Esta at the center.”
Ruck stumbled over to the table and chairs tucked in the corner. He pulled out a tin cup and filled it with a finger of amber liquid. He tossed it back with a grimace, hissing as he slammed the cup to the table.
“Have you lost your damn mind?” He rasped.
“I’m in.” Oliver stroked Charlie’s face. Ruck turned to our half-brother with an incredulous look. My fidgeting hands stilled, and my chest rose on a slight, sharp breath. Could it be this easy?
“This is madness. You can’t just choose to live in a pack. It’s against the law.” Ruck’s eyes darted to the entrance of the barn, where the stiff wind whipped in with its bitter opinions. Oliver ambled over and blocked it out. The door groaned as he latched it closed.
“That needs some oil. We should write a list of things we want to get done before the snow hits. We can work out how to convince Esta and help you earn her forgiveness.” Oliver slapped his hand on my shoulder, giving me a rare, white-toothed smile. Ruck spluttered, pouring himself another finger of alcohol and gasping as he tossed it down his throat. His steps were determined as he stalked toward us. His pointer finger brandished like an arrow.
“What will we tell Esta? Hey, sweetheart, we know you were raised to think you only needed one alpha, but we’ve decided to share you. Damn the rules, history, and the law. Hale saw a wolf pack, and instead of putting a bullet through the beast who ruled it, he took note.” Ruck gnashed his teeth, gaze swinging wildly between us. “And if you can convince her of your plan, what will you tell the town?”
“It’s nobody’s business but ours,” I replied, and Ruck threw his hands up. But he didn’t say no. I leaned forward as tingles spread through my entire body.
“It won’t work,” he seethed, the ruddy apples of his cheeks darkened. I filled my lungs with the earthy scent of straw, animals, and manure. It was nostalgic to me and filled me with a sense of calm. I knew what to do within these four walls. What to do on the rolling expanse of the ranch’s hills and fields.
I didn’t know what to do with the delicate confines of Esta’s heart.
I bruised and battered her, and all I could pray for was the scars I left weren’t as deep as that bastard, Daniel’s. Ruck pushed at my chest, not content with my silence.
“Hale, it won’t work.” Underneath his harsh whisper was so much hope. Bitter, broken hope, I now knew he’d hidden away for months. He made to shove me again, and I gripped his hand, holding it to my thundering heart. Ruck’s upper lip shivered in a halfhearted snarl, and he tugged at my unrelenting grasp.
“What if it does?” I whispered, “She needs all our love to heal. Don’t you want to give her the world?”
Ruck’s shoulders drooped, and we shared a breath for a quiet moment. My brother wasn’t wrong. I shared his trepidation. What I was proposing was enough to have us all torn apart and imprisoned according to Hierarchy Laws. But we didn’t live in the cities where the humans preferred to stay. The Designated that grew up there could never do what I was proposing.
“Why do you find this so easy?” Ruck begged Oliver.
“Lucinda, Emory and Garcell are a pack.” Oliver dropped the information with a nonchalant shrug.
“What?” Ruck and I both exclaimed, frowning at him. He shrugged his massive shoulders again.
“They aren’t as discreet as they think, especially in their own home. I saw them a few years ago.”
The admission seemed to switch something in Ruck, knowing quiet Lucinda was living in sin and had managed to do so for years.
Ruck gripped Oliver’s shoulder, and his knuckles went white. “Why didn’t you say something?”
He let out a flabbergasted laugh. Now, it was my turn to have a drink. The news was shocking but the fire in my stomach roared hotter and fiercer. We were in the wildlands, just us and the rolling expanse of nature.
“Seemed no concern of mine.”
We could make this work. I clanked the bottle on the lip of my mug, filling three with generous fingers of alcohol. I ferried them back to my brothers. The liquor carved a path of fire down my throat, and I let out a choking noise. Ruck tossed the leftover drops out of his mug onto the ground, shaking his head. Oliver arched his eyebrow in a silent acknowledgment. His throat worked quietly as he took the drink in one go.
“We’re doing this.” I didn’t ask, I didn’t need to.
We all wanted this. I knew Esta would agree when we explained it to her. Imagined us all in the sitting room, with snow barring us inside, and it filled me with a flourish of irrepressible excitement. I would earn Esta’s forgiveness. My brothers could love her openly, rather than hide it away to fester and fracture our relationship.
“Hartlock Pack. I like the sound of it.” Ruck let go of his tentativeness, his arms swinging through the air to gather Oliver and me close in a rough hug.
Hartlock Pack.
This was the way it should have always been.