39
Parker
After everything I’d seen in my life—watching my mother sell herself just to feed her kids, standing at the grave of a brother who didn’t make it out of the streets alive, and carrying the weight of that guilt—I thought my heart had hardened to any kind of pain. I didn’t think it could still break. But seeing my sweet Omega overtaken by her demons was devastating in a way I couldn’t have prepared for. What really kicked me in the gut was seeing her battle with the same substance I had once used to drown my own misery.
I hadn’t left her side since picking her up, her skin cold as ice, her eyes hollow. I couldn’t leave her. Not now, not when she was spiraling so far that I feared she’d never come back. There was no way I’d let her fight this alone.
Finally, after what felt like days instead of hours, we arrived at our pack house. I guided a sedate, eerily quiet Phoenix out of the car and toward the front door. She hadn’t spoken since waking up on the plane, but at least she hadn’t pulled away from me. That was a small win I held on to with everything I had. Her hand in mine, though limp, was the only thing that gave me a sliver of hope that maybe she could still feel something for us.
As we walked through the front door, I took a deep breath. Memories flooded back—some good, most complicated—but right now, all I cared about was Phoenix. I wanted this house to be a sanctuary for her, a place where she could heal, away from all the noise of the outside world.
The moment we stepped through the threshold, though, her entire body froze. Every muscle tensed, her hand squeezing mine tighter, and then came the sound that shattered whatever calm I had tried to maintain—a heart-wrenching whine. Her Omega was terrified, and I could feel the panic rolling off her in waves.
I looked around, trying to figure out what had set her off, when the familiar scent hit me. Marshmallow, light and sweet, unmistakable.
Shit.
“Shh, Sweetheart,”
I murmured softly, pulling her a little closer to me and starting up a gentle purr. “That’s just Charlotte. She lives here.”
Another whine, this one quieter, but still full of fear.
“Not like that,”
I assured her quickly, my hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “She’s Zephyr’s sister. She’s only seventeen, Phoenix. Zeph’s her legal guardian. She’s presented as an Omega, but she’s not our Omega, I swear.”
Phoenix’s body relaxed slightly, though she still looked wary. Her wide, glassy eyes darted around as if searching for more threats, but she let me lead her further inside.
We barely made it three steps before Charlotte came barreling down the stairs. She was all excitement and energy, her long hair bouncing behind her as she practically flew toward us. Her smile was wide and genuine, her arms waving like she hadn’t seen us in years.
“Parker! Zeph told me you were coming!”
she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy. “And this must be Phoenix!”
She slowed her approach when she saw the tense way Phoenix clung to me, her expression shifting to one of concern.
Charlotte was sweet, always had been, but her presence added another layer of complexity to an already strained situation. Phoenix still felt out of place, and now this—meeting another Omega, a pack member she didn’t know. I could feel Phoenix’s distress building again, and I shot Charlotte a quick look, hoping she’d get the message to tread lightly.
To her credit, Charlotte was always good at reading a room. She stopped a few feet away and offered a small, shy smile. “It’s really nice to meet you, Phoenix,”
she said gently. “I know this is a lot, so I’ll let you get settled, but I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”
She didn’t wait for a response, just turned and headed outside to help Kage with the bags, giving us the space my Doll so desperately needed.
The second Charlotte disappeared from view, Phoenix slumped against me, her body sagging with exhaustion and something that felt like relief.
I wrapped my arm tighter around her waist, guiding her toward the living room where Zeph was waiting.
Thankfully, he had called ahead and arranged a paid vacation for the older beta who stayed with Charlotte while we toured, so Phoenix wouldn’t have to go through any more surprise meetings.
“See?”
I whispered in her ear as we moved slowly through the house. “You’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you. I won’t let them.”
Phoenix didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull away either.
Zephyr stood by the fireplace, watching us with a careful, guarded expression. He hadn’t said much since we’d decided to bring her here, but I knew him well enough to know that he was just as worried as I was. This wasn’t just about getting Phoenix out of a bad situation. This was about healing—about pulling her back from the edge before she lost herself completely.
“I’ll get her settled,”
I said quietly, guiding Phoenix toward the couch. She sat down, her movements sluggish, her eyes unfocused. Zeph nodded, his jaw tight, but he didn’t say a word.
I sat beside her, rubbing her back gently as I continued to purr, trying to offer what little comfort I could. My mind was spinning, filled with a mix of fear and hope. I’d seen rock bottom. I’d been there, and I’d clawed my way out of it. But Phoenix… she was still falling. And I had no idea if I could catch her before it was too late.
◆◆◆
Walking Phoenix through the house felt almost surreal. I pointed out the main living room, the kitchen, a few communal areas, all while sneaking glances at her to gauge if any of this was registering. But she remained silent, her eyes barely focused. I tried to keep my voice soft, not wanting to overwhelm her, but it was hard not to feel a little desperate. I wanted to help her feel safe here, to know she belonged, but I wasn’t sure if it was working.
Halfway through the tour, Kage and Zeph appeared, stepping into the hallway. I caught Kage’s eye, and he gave me a nod. Zeph lingered behind him. The three of us exchanged a silent look before Kage gently took Phoenix’s free hand and squeezed.
“Let’s take you to your room,”
he said, his voice low and soothing. Phoenix hesitated, her body tensing for just a moment before she let out a breath and followed without resistance. It was something. A small step.
We led her to the Omega suite, a space that had been empty since we moved in all those years ago. It was a place meant to feel like a sanctuary. But the second we reached the door, I felt her pull back. Her whole body stiffened, and she stopped just outside the threshold, staring at the entrance as if it were some kind of cage.
Kage knelt down beside her, his hand still holding hers. “This room is all yours, Phoenix,”
he said softly. “No one’s ever had it. It’s just for you.”
Zeph stood at a distance, hovering just behind us, his shoulders stiff with tension. He added, “Whenever you’re ready, and when you’re feeling up to it, you can order whatever you like for it. Change anything. Make it yours.”
Phoenix didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at them. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, lost in whatever storm was brewing in her mind. It hurt to see her like this—so distant, so disconnected from us. But we weren’t going to push her.
Finally, after a moment of stillness, Phoenix walked into the room, her steps slow and uncertain. She moved directly to the bed, curling up on top of the covers without a word. It was like watching her fold in on herself, as if the weight of the world was too much for her to bear.
Kage followed her, sitting down beside her on the edge of the bed. His hand moved gently to her back, rubbing slow, comforting circles as a soft purr rumbled from his chest.
Zeph stayed at the threshold of the room, his eyes never leaving her. He hadn’t crossed the line into the space, as if he was afraid of overstepping. I knew he wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but something kept him rooted in place. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was fear. Either way, he was as much a part of this room as the shadows along the wall—present but distant.
I crouched down in front of the bed, my heart heavy as I looked at her. “Phoenix,”
I said quietly. “We have an alcohol counselor and an Omega-specialized psychologist coming this afternoon.”
She stirred slightly at that, her eyes half-opening, though she still didn’t look at me directly. I continued, “We’re going to put a plan together. We’re going to help you through this. You don’t have to do it alone.”
There was a pause. The room was so quiet that I could hear the soft hum of Kage’s purring and the faint sound of Zeph shifting on his feet at the doorway. Then, finally, Phoenix whispered, so softly I almost didn’t catch it, “Okay.”
That one word felt like a lifeline. It wasn’t much, but it was something. It was a start. I reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, and that’s when I saw it—a single tear trailing down her cheek. My chest tightened, but I didn’t say anything. I just sat there, watching her, feeling helpless but determined to stay by her side.
Kage kept rubbing her back, his purring never faltering, and Zeph… well, Zeph remained by the door, watching over her with a silent, unwavering intensity. None of us moved. We didn’t have to. This was where we needed to be.