Chapter 28
JESS
The taste of dessert and expensive perfume clings to the back of my throat when a Nexus aide approaches our table. Silver badge, neutral smile.
My stomach twists—not from the food, but from the careful neutrality in her expression. I’ve seen that look before. It never means anything good.
“Mr. Hale. Mr. Douglas. Mr. Mercado. Ms. Mancini.” She gestures to a set of glass doors near the back of the ballroom. “If you’ll follow me, the evaluation rooms are ready.”
Eli gives a short nod. “Of course.”
Cassian mutters something under his breath that sounds like ready for what, exactly, but he stands anyway. His hand finds mine for just a second—a quick squeeze before they take me away.
Rowan’s hand presses low at my back, a quiet promise. And Eli kisses my cheek as they separate us in the hallway.
“Wait—” The word catches, but the aide is already guiding me toward a different door. Rowan’s eyes lock on mine, and he starts to move forward, but Eli’s hand on his arm stops him. Not here. Not now. The message is clear.
I’m guided into a small, sterile conference room with chrome chairs and a Nexus crest etched into the glass wall. The door closes with a soft click that sounds too much like a lock.
“Ms. Mancini.” A woman waits inside. Smooth hair, smoother voice. The kind of calm that feels rehearsed. She gestures for me to sit. “We appreciate you attending on short notice. This is another check-in regarding your placement.”
I nod, keeping my expression neutral, even though the little bit of dinner I managed to choke down is threatening to make a reappearance.
She scrolls through her tablet, and I force myself to sit still, hands folded in my lap like a good Omega should be. The thought makes my skin crawl. “You’ve been with your assigned Pack since the eighth of this month?”
“Yes.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel.
“And how have you found the transition so far?”
Tell her what she wants to hear. “Good,” I say, because fine sounds too defensive.
Her eyes flick up. “Define good.”
I swallow. “They’re… patient. Supportive.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “We’re still figuring each other out.”Still figuring me out. Still letting me figure them out.”
She types something. “Any conflicts?”
“No.”
“Has physical intimacy been established?”
The question feels like a slap. Not because it’s embarrassing—but because of what she really means.
I know how this goes. Nexus doesn’t care about connection; they care about order. About hierarchy. About whether the Omega submitted properly, whether the Alpha claimed her first, and whether the Beta stayed in his lane.
Heat crawls up my throat. “That’s private.”
She doesn’t look up from her tablet. “Those details affect compatibility metrics. Especially with… unconventional pack dynamics.”
I freeze, my fingers curling into fists in my lap. Unconventional. The polite Nexus word for wrong.
Her gaze flicks briefly to the screen, where I can just make out Eli’s name. “Many Omegas find it difficult to adjust to mixed-rank pairings. Betas often struggle to—how should I put this—assert dominance in a traditional hierarchy.”
My pulse spikes. “Eli doesn’t need to assert anything,” I say tightly. “He’s part of this pack. He’s ours, and I’m his.”
She types something. “Of course. Still, you can understand how some placements fail under those… circumstances. A Beta with romantic history with an Alpha can complicate the bond.”
My throat goes tight. Romantic history. They know about Eli and Rowan. Of course they do. Nexus knows everything—they just wait to see if you’ll lie about it.
Every word is a test I didn’t agree to take, every sentence an attempt to make me doubt the only thing in my life that feels solid.
“We’re compatible,” I say finally, and I don’t care if she hears the edge in my voice.
She pauses, considering me. “And do you feel safe?”
“Yes.”
Her stylus taps once against the tablet. “Do you feel led?”
The word hits somewhere soft and unexpected. Led. Like I’m supposed to trail behind my own life. Like every choice I’ve fought to make—the work, the survival, the Pack—doesn’t count because I’m not the one holding the leash.
“I don’t need to be led,” I say quietly, though my voice wavers. “We’re partners.”
Her lips purse. A flicker of something—disapproval, pity maybe—crosses her face, and it’s somehow worse than contempt.
She doesn’t believe me. Worse: she thinks I’m naive for believing it myself.
”Interesting. Nexus traditionally finds the strongest bonds emerge through clear hierarchy. But we’ll revisit that later.”
She sets down her stylus. “For now, it’s too soon to determine long-term viability.
Should your Pack request continuation at the ninety-day mark, the board will reconvene to review.
Likewise, if you decide this arrangement isn’t fulfilling, alternate placements remain an option.
” Her stylus taps once, almost eager. “In fact, we’ve already received a preliminary request regarding your file. ”
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Flexibility benefits everyone. In fact…” She scrolls once on her tablet.
“There’s already an Alpha expressing interest should your current arrangement prove unstable.
” Her tone goes bland, too practiced. “Mr. Callighan filed a notice with Nexus shortly after your intake—standard procedure for Alphas seeking compatible Omega candidates. High stability index, single-Alpha pack. Less… complex.”
The room tilts.
My stomach drops so fast I think I might be sick right here on the pristine conference table. “Blake.”
Her brow lifts—faintly surprised, faintly curious. “You know him?” Like she didn’t expect me to recognize a name flagged on my placement profile.
Know him. The man who killed Meredith. Who walked away because his father’s lawyers were better than justice. Who smiled at me tonight like he was better than everyone there and hadn’t killed an Omega with his bare hands.
“We’ve met,” I force out, my voice barely steady.
She doesn’t even blink. “Then you understand it’s often easier with one Alpha. Simpler hierarchy. And Mr. Callighan has expressed genuine interest in—”
“No.” The word comes out sharp enough that she actually stops typing. My hands are shaking in my lap, but I don’t care anymore. “He killed someone. An Omega. Their Omega.”
For a moment—just a moment—something flickers across her face. But then the mask slides back into place, smooth and unreadable. “Mr. Callighan was cleared of all charges. The board found no evidence of malicious intent. Sometimes... bonds simply fail.”
Bonds simply fail. Like Meredith’s death was a clinical error…an unfortunate accident. Like grief is just another compatibility metric.
“He’s a murderer,” I say quietly, and I can hear the tremor in my voice now—rage and horror mixing into something I can barely contain.
Her eyes narrow a fraction, the faintest crease between perfect brows. “Has one of your Alphas made this claim to you?”
My stomach lurches. There it is—the trap. If I say yes, they’ll call it contamination, claim my pack biased me against a vetted Alpha. They’d call it emotional influence. Grounds for reassignment.
“No,” I say quickly. “I saw the headline. He just—” my voice catches “—looks guilty.”
“That’s a very serious accusation, Ms. Mancini. One that has already been legally resolved. I would strongly advise against repeating it—particularly to other Omegas who might be... influenced by rumor.” Her tone is a pleasant warning.
She taps something into her tablet, and I watch my words get documented, catalogued. Evidence that I’m emotional. Unstable. Too willing to believe gossip over official records.
“Now.” She folds her hands on the table.
“As I was saying, Mr. Callighan has expressed interest. It’s not uncommon for Alphas to.
.. reconsider their preferences after an initial bond fails.
He’s looking for an Omega who understands that structure creates safety.
One who won’t resist traditional hierarchy. ”
The subtext hits me hard: someone who won’t fight back.
Acid burns the back of my mouth. She’s not just offering me an alternative. She’s measuring me for it. Seeing if I’ll break. If I’m desperate enough—or scared enough—to choose a single-Alpha pack over the complicated, unconventional thing I have now.
Over Eli. Over Rowan and Cassian. Over the first place I’ve felt like I could breathe.
“I understand the appeal,” she continues smoothly. “Especially for Omegas who find themselves... overwhelmed by multiple bonds. Mr. Callighan can provide clarity. Simplicity.”
Control, she means. Submission.
Something in me snaps. I lean forward, meeting her gaze dead-on.
“I’m not furniture to be rearranged.” The words come out quieter than I intended, but steadier.
“And I’m not being handed off to a man who killed his last Omega just because Nexus doesn’t like that my Pack includes a Beta. Not for Blake. Not for anyone.”
For the first time, she actually looks at me—really looks—and I see the glimmer of surprise before she smooths it away.
“Of course,” she says, already typing. “They all say that, at first.”
After that, the questions blur together—surface-level things meant to sound harmless. Favorite foods. Morning routines. Who handles chores. Each one a disguise for what they really want to know: where are the cracks.
By the end, I feel scrubbed raw, like they’ve taken my answers apart just to see what I’m made of.
When the door finally opens, the air outside feels colder—or maybe that’s just the adrenaline draining away.
The guys are waiting by the elevators. Rowan sees me first, and the relief that crosses his face makes my chest ache. Cassian’s pacing, practically vibrating with tension. Eli’s the stillest I’ve ever seen him, which somehow feels most dangerous of all.
Cassian stops mid-stride when he spots me. “They asked if we wanted to keep you.” His voice cracks on the last word, just slightly—like the question itself was obscene.
Rowan’s jaw ticks. “Or if one of us preferred a different Omega.”
Eli’s voice stays calm, but his eyes are all steel. “We made our position clear.”
“And?” I ask, terrified of the answer.
“We said no.” Rowan closes the distance between us in two strides, his hands coming up to frame my face. “They don’t get to divide us. Not now. Not ever.”
I lean into his palm, letting myself take just this one moment to feel safe. “Good,” I whisper. “Because I told them the same thing.”
Can’t tell them about Blake telling Nexus he’s interested in me. If I do, they’ll go after him, and Nexus will call it aggression.
I can’t risk them turning this into evidence against us.
So I keep it buried, like everything else that might get us hurt.
Cassian slings his jacket over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of this marble tomb before I break something expensive.”
He shoots a quick, unhappy look at the elevator—barely a second, but enough. Cassian would rather fling himself down a stairwell than get in one of these metal coffins…but he stays right beside me anyway.
No one argues.
As the doors slide shut behind us, I realize I’m shaking. Rowan’s shoulder brushes mine. Cassian’s hand finds the small of my back. Eli stands close enough that our arms touch. A quiet, wordless wall between me and the rest of the world.
Cassian’s palm is warm, but his breathing tightens. He hates elevators. I clock the way his fingers flex once against my spine, like he’s bracing, choosing to stay in this box because I’m in it.
Eli notices and catches my wrist gently. “You okay?”
I look up at him—at all three of them—and something settles in my chest. Something fierce and sure. “No,” I say honestly. “But I will be.”
Because this time, the shaking isn’t fear.
It’s anger. And anger, I can work with.