Chapter 28 #2
Rage floods through me, burning away some of the fear. I’m not that Omega anymore. I’m not the scared girl who ran from the altar in a panic.
I’m marked now. Claimed. Three Alphas have bitten me, bonded with me, made me theirs in every way that matters.
I’m not weak anymore.
But my legs are still wobbling. My hands are still shaking. And that voice in my head, the one that sounds like Van, is whispering, You’ll always be weak. You’ll always be mine.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” My voice comes out stronger than I feel, louder than I expected. “You are not welcome in my house. Get the fuck out.”
He doesn’t move. Just stands there, watching me with that small smile.
“Such language,” he says mildly. “That’s not very Omega-like, Cynthia.”
My mind is spinning. Everything is happening at once, too fast, too much. My men are missing. Mother is in the backyard with her troops, taking over my home. And Van is here, in my kitchen, looking at me like I’m something he misplaced and finally found.
The pieces start clicking together in my head, each one worse than the last.
What the fuck did he do?
Is he the reason they’re not here? Is he the reason they’re not answering their phones?
“You speak like that to your Alpha,” Van says. Still not a question. A statement of fact.
“You are nothing to me.” I force the words out through gritted teeth, pushing past the fear trying to choke me. “And sure as hell not my Alpha. That’s the past, and you’re part of it. Dead and buried.”
He scratches his chin, that calculated gesture I remember too well. The one he does when he’s pretending to be thoughtful, when really he’s just deciding how to manipulate the situation.
“You speak so cruelly, Cynthia. Do you have any idea the agony I went through when my first Omega rejected me?”
There it is. The victim card. The poor, wounded Alpha whose mate ran away, leaving him heartbroken and alone and damaged.
I don’t buy it. Never did.
He told me the story in the early days when he was still pretending to be someone worthy of sympathy. Before the mask came off completely.
His family was humiliated. The bride’s family demanded their money back. And Van decided it was her fault. That she was defective. Broken. Too damaged to recognize a good Alpha when she had one.
He never once asked himself why she ran. What she saw in him that terrified her enough to abandon everything.
And when I came along, arranged by our families who thought we’d be perfect together, he was determined not to let it happen again.
“Get out of my house,” I shout, louder this time. My voice echoes in the kitchen.
He steps closer.
I retreat immediately, instinct taking over. My hip hits the counter hard enough to bruise. My phone is still in my hand, gripped so tightly that my knuckles have gone white and my fingers are cramping.
“I really did hope we could be civilized about this,” Van says. “We have a past, Cynthia. History. And I want you back.”
“Like hell.” The words come out as almost a snarl.
“I’m taking you back,” he continues, like I didn’t speak. Like my words don’t matter. They never did to him. “You’ve had your time away. Your fun. Playing house with those bikers.”
My hand is moving toward the drawer. The one with the kitchen knives. Arrow keeps them sharp, sharpens them every week. If I can just reach it, grab the biggest one, maybe I can make Van back off. Maybe I can defend myself long enough to run, to scream, to get help.
Van watches my hand move. Watches and smiles, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Then he pulls something out of his pocket.
Three phones that I recognize immediately.
Luke’s has a crack across the screen that he never bothered to fix. Holt’s is black and pristine. Arrow’s is a simple red one.
My stomach drops to the floor. The air rushes out of my lungs.
“Been watching you frantically message these guys all morning,” Van says. He’s holding the phones up like trophies, like prizes he won. “Sending text after text. Getting more and more worried with each passing minute.”
I can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t do anything but stare at those phones.
“Where did you get those?” My voice comes out as barely a whisper.
“Does it matter?” He’s enjoying this. “The point is, I have them. And you don’t. And neither do they.”
“What did you do?” The question tears out of me. “Where are they?”
“You really think they want you as much as I do?” Van asks instead of answering. He turns one of the phones over in his hand, examining it like it’s something interesting.
“Yes, they do.” The words come out fierce, certain.
“They’re nothing,” Van says. “Not good enough for you. Not worthy of an Omega from your family.”
“Fuck you.” My voice breaks on the words.
He pockets the phones again, one by one, taking his time. Making a show of it. Showing me he has complete control.
“Thing is, Cynthia.” He steps even closer, and I have nowhere left to go. I’m trapped between him and the counter, and my heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. “I want you. And I get what I want. Always have. You know that.”
Tears start to blur my vision.
“You’re going to be my Omega,” he continues. “Now you’ll kneel for me the way you were always meant to. You’ll do your duty as my Omega.”
I’m shaking my head.
“And if you want to ensure your men see another day,” he adds. “You will concede. You’ll take my hand in marriage. Sign the contract to be my Omega. Legally, officially, permanently.”
My breath catches. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you have a choice. I’m not a complete monster.” My skin crawls. “You refuse me, you run, you try to jeopardize anything from happening today, and those three men won’t be seeing tomorrow. Simple as that.”
“You fucking bastard.” The words tear out of me.
My mind is whirling so fast I can’t grab on to a single thought. Options flash through my head, each one worse than the last.
I could run. Scream for Mack, hope he hears me, hope he gets here in time. But even then, how do we find my men? What if Van orders them… I can’t even think of the words.
Or, I could agree, sign whatever he wants, go through with this nightmare, and then escape later. Find the guys, get help, figure it out. But Van’s smart. Too smart. He’ll be watching every second.
Tears are streaming down my face now, hot and furious and humiliating. I can feel them dripping off my chin, can taste salt on my lips.
“You can’t do this,” I whisper. “Please. Please don’t do this.”
He just grins. “Get all that emotional stuff out now, Cynthia. Cry it out. Because everyone is going to be watching you today. All those family members. And if you so much as think you can leave, if you give me any reason to believe you’re not fully committed to this, my kindness in keeping them breathing is done. Understood?”
I can’t speak. Can’t force words past the lump in my throat.
Van holds out his hand. “Phone. Now.”
I don’t move fast enough for his liking.
He crosses the space between us in two strides and rips the phone from my hand. I cry out, more from shock than pain. He pockets my phone with the others.
The back door opens.
Mother strides in from the yard, her heels clicking sharply and authoritatively on the tile floor. She takes one look at me, tear-stained and shaking and cornered, and then at Van standing too close, and her expression doesn’t change. Doesn’t even flicker.
She fucking knew he was here. Probably told him exactly when to come in.
“Mother.” My voice cracks, breaks completely. “Did you know about this?”
She waves at Van dismissively, like he’s a servant she’s temporarily done with. “Give us a moment, please.”
Van stares at me for a long beat. His gaze travels over my face. Then he turns and walks toward the door. He pauses in the threshold, looking back over his shoulder with that smile.
“Be sure to look beautiful for me.”
Then he’s gone, out into the yard.
“Mother, what have you done?” My voice is raw.
She’s straightening her clothes, brushing invisible lint off her cream-colored suit.
Adjusting her pearl necklace. “Maybe it’s better this way, Cynthia.
You’re meant to be with us. Someone who understands your background, your breeding.
Not some wild men who don’t know what it means to be part of a proper family. ”
“This is insanity. I’m marked by all three of them. I chose three Alphas.” I pull my braids aside roughly, showing her the bite marks on my neck. They’re still visible, still healing, the skin still slightly raised. “I’m a mated Omega. You can’t do this.”
“Of course you would go against all our wishes. And that’s easy to fix,” Mother interrupts, her tone casual.
Like we’re discussing flower arrangements, not my life.
“It’s better this way. You marry Van today.
Everything’s already set up. The officiant is here, the guests are arriving, and the contract is prepared. ”
The pieces slam together in my head with sickening clarity.
“You arranged this from the beginning, didn’t you?” My voice comes out hollow, echoing strangely in my own ears. “Monica and Trevor were never meant to marry. This was always supposed to be my wedding.”
Mother doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. Her expression stays perfectly composed, perfectly calm.
“Be a good girl and put on the dress I brought you,” she says.
“It’s in the living room, hanging off the door.
We’re starting this union earlier than planned.
I’ve had enough of this ghastly town and its laughable attempts at sophistication.
This Halloween nonsense, these decorations. ” She wrinkles her nose.
I glance out the window. More people are arriving in the backyard. I recognize my father now, standing there, tall and broad and terrifying. He’s talking to my cousins, people I haven’t seen in over two years.
“I’m going to be sick,” I whisper.