43. Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Three
Leah
Z ane shakes his head, trying for calm but his voice carries an edge. "They found nothing at the first two locations. Last message said they were heading to the third."
I can’t just sit here while dread builds inside me. The urge to do something— anything —claws at my chest. My mind sprints through desperate what-ifs until a memory slams into focus.
"Wait! Skylar," I whisper, her name catching in my throat. I remember Hardwick’s vicious backhand, and how she made Skylar kneel beside me at the gala, reeling, off balance, broken. A lump rises, hot and aching, as I look up at Soren.
I hardly dare to ask. "Did Skylar survive that night?"
The silence stretches. Hope tangles with dread in my chest as I brace for loss.
Mira’s answer lands so softly it barely stirs the air. “She’s here. Both Skylar and Aubrey are at the Omega Healing Center, a floor above the labs. They’re getting care, but… Leah, they’re both extremely traumatized. Aubrey most of all.”
My insides twist, sharp and cold. I only glimpsed Aubrey once or twice in Haven’s basement, broken down, forced to crawl on a leash. He still wore the leash at the gala, catatonic, shattered. My gut churns thinking about what he was subjected to over the years.
“I just…Skylar…” My voice shakes. The stillness settles, making it hard to breathe. “Skylar had to help Hardwick experiment on me. She might know something.”
A strange, reckless hope stirs under my skin. Skylar might be the fragile, battered lifeline we need. Regardless of the torment she caused me, she was under Hardwick’s control. The only person to blame is Hardwick.
Soren’s expression darkens as he shakes his head.
"The chance she knows anything new is slim, Leah. She’s been helping us, but Hardwick was especially cruel to her.
Skylar wants justice as much as we do. She mostly stays here to help Aubrey.
" His jaw flexes. "Aubrey was broken badly by his pack, especially Axel Turns. "
Emma takes my hand and squeezes. "The Turns pack is dead. My Alphas made sure of that."
Soren pulls Emma onto his lap, burying his face against her neck. My heart aches thinking of the needless destruction. Mercer. Hardwick. Turns.
"Can I please talk to Skylar?” I ask. “We were both there. She might have forgotten something that could help. Even if it’s small. Please I… I have to try," I say .
Gabriel kneels in front of me, his big hands engulfing mine with a gentleness that nearly undoes me. His eyes search my face, full of quiet worry. "Are you sure you want to do this, Leah?"
My feelings about Skylar are a snarl of old wounds and fractured understanding.
She was complicit in Hardwick's experiments, but only because Hardwick barked her into submission, wrenching away her will with every command.
I can't blame any Omega for what they do under an Alpha’s leash.
Guilt rests on Hardwick's shoulders alone.
Still, our histories are tangled together by shared scars and trauma. Maybe there’s something in her memory she missed. A detail she overlooked. Something small that could mean everything.
"I want to do this," I say, though my voice is quiet.
Gabriel kisses my knuckles, warm breath grounding me. "You're braver than you know, Leah. I’m so proud of you.”
Bravery deserts me as we file into the elevator that takes us down to the Omega Healing Center. No courage comes when Mira stops at the door of one of the suites and knocks. There’s none to be found when Skylar opens the door and a flood of memories tears through me.
I’m back in that room. The bright, clinical light burning down on me, antiseptic sharp in the air, metal restraints around my wrists and ankles, bones and soul aching with hunger, fear and exhaustion.
Hardwick barking at Skylar to adjust the electrodes on my temples or to scribble down notes, fingers shaking as she tried to keep herself together.
The way she mouthed silent apologies, her face ghost-pale with her own terror.
Sometimes she’d freeze, paralyzed between self-preservation and ruin.
She might not have been strapped to a gurney like me, but she was just as powerless.
All those brutal, helpless days crash over me as I take her in. She’s too thin. Fragile and haunted, and just as broken as I am. Past and present collide. Shame, grief, and hope splintering the moment wide open.
Skylar mouths my name. It’s barely a sound.
Nothing more than the shape of it on trembling lips, a ghost escaping the tight press of her mouth.
Her eyes widen as she reaches for me, then draws back, doubt flickering through every line of her body.
Hope and pleading skitter across her features, only to be trampled by shame.
She shutters down, chin tucking to her chest like she wishes she could disappear.
A choked whisper escapes her. "Leah. I’m so sorry, Gods, I’m so—"
Before shame can crush her, I break from Gabriel’s hold and reach for her.
My arms wrap around her. She stiffens for a breathless second, then collapses into me, shaking so hard it rattles through my bones.
Her arms band around my shoulders, fierce and clinging.
We both sob, raw and ugly, shaking and clutching each other tight.
"I’m sorry too," I gasp, voice shredded. "I don’t blame you, Skylar. None of this shame is yours to carry."
We hold each other in the doorway, wounds between us no longer secrets but shared pain acknowledged.
Eventually we pull apart, the ache between us settling into a fragile, echoing hush.
Skylar’s eyes are rimmed red, her cheeks blotched.
She looks beyond wrecked. She’s hollowed out, a survivor barely held together by willpower and regret.
"I’m glad you survived. So many didn’t." The words hang heavy, thick with the weight of all the deaths she’s seen and couldn’t stop. Her scars are invisible, but they run as deep as mine.
She wipes her face, gaze flicking away from me. She collects herself, seeming to notice the others around me for the first time. She lifts her chin and draws around her the brittle armor of someone who’s learned to survive being seen.
"Skylar, can we talk? Our Alphas are searching for Hardwick. We’re hoping you might remember something, anything, that could help." Mira’s voice is soft.
Skylar nods, the motion jerky. "Of course. But I’ve already told Asher everything I can remember.
Every address Hardwick ever mentioned. Every contact she ever met.
" She glances at me, guilt flickering again.
"But if there’s something I missed. Some overlap, something you might recognize, put together in a different way… "
"There might be." I try to offer some of the steadiness Gabriel gives me, even as my gut turns over. "Maybe there’s something you forgot that I remember given… everything."
Skylar works to steady her shaking hands.
"I’ll do whatever you need. Just, do you mind if we go to the dining area?
My roommate isn’t doing well today, and Alpha scents might set her back.
" Her gaze flicks to the men. "I’m sorry. Dr. Maverick says it’s best to keep her as calm as possible.
I know you mean no harm, but her nervous system doesn’t understand. "
"There’s nothing to apologize for, Skylar. We’d never want to cause harm here. Hot chocolate and dessert are probably being served in the dining area about now anyway," Soren says.
Skylar gives him a grateful, cautious smile, then leads us down the hall after quietly closing the door.
The dining area soothes me immediately. Soft earth tones, vanilla and bread-scented air, low lighting that warms every corner.
Textured couches and heavy chairs are upholstered in tactile fabrics, safe places to relax in, and round tables where Omegas murmur quietly, their voices blending into a peaceful hush.
When our Alphas file in behind us, tension flickers briefly before relief softens every face.
I nudge Mira and whisper, "You’re a miracle, you know that? Setting all this up for them. For us."
Mira’s eyes shine. "My Alphas fund it through Pinnacle, and we’ve received several donations from prominent packs around the country.
There are more Alphas out there who are horrified by what Hardwick did.
My Alphas always wanted to help Omegas, but until recently, their hands were tied.
This is just the first step, Leah. First we heal the trauma, then we heal society. "
In the far corner, Alphas form a protective barrier around a fragile male Omega.
He’s a tangle of sharp bones and trembling skin, hunched small and closed off as he rocks with a desperate rhythm.
His hands fist in the hem of his shirt, knuckles white, as one of the Alphas holds him close to his neck and purrs.
"Aubrey?" He was catatonic at the gala, and weeks later he’s no better .
"The Alphas are his scent-matches,” Zane says. “At least one stays with him every day. We hope they can help him heal."
I look up at the big Alpha. "Is it working?"
Zane’s hollow look is my answer.
"Kevin Dawson is his prime. He’s a good Alpha. He helped us when we needed it. Aubrey means everything to them. If anyone can pull Aubrey out of his trauma, it’s them," Soren says.
"I hope you’re right," I whisper. Aubrey’s eyes are vacant, his lips moving with silent words.
Whatever he’s been through is etched into his soul.
My heart splinters for him, sorrow and rage so visceral I can barely breathe.
No one should be left like this. No one.
Not after everything we survived. "What is he saying? "
Skylar leads us to an empty table. "Numbers. 1465 was for his Alpha, Axel Turns. 1037 is Hardwick, may the devil destroy her soul."
"He whispers other numbers too." Soren doesn’t hide the frustration in his voice. "We have a whole department researching every number he’s mentioned, but nothing has turned into leads."
We settle beside the windows, a tray of untouched desserts sitting between us, the sugar doing nothing to settle my nerves. Skylar sits across from me, shoulders hunched, hands wrapped tight around a mug she isn’t drinking from.
Gabriel leans forward. "Skylar, is there anything else you remember about Hardwick’s movements? Any place she might run to. Old safehouses, labs, contacts, anything you haven’t already mentioned?”
Skylar makes a frustrated sound. "She never trusted anyone, not even me. When she moved me between places, I was blindfolded. Sometimes she barked me unconscious, so I didn’t know which way we’d gone or how long we’d taken to get to our destination or back home again.
She took no chances. No one saw anything unless she wanted them to. "
"But you think there were different locations?" Gabriel asks.
Skylar’s brows draw tight. "Sometimes the equipment or layout would be different, and I’d swear we were in a new place.
But honestly, I never saw anything from outside.
For all I know, Ethan Wallace could have just had things rearranged on a whim.
I couldn’t question either of them. I’m sorry, Leah.
My Alpha made sure I only knew what she wanted me to know. "
She tugs the neckline of her shirt down, exposing smooth, unmarked skin. "She never bonded me. Perhaps that was a mercy. She kept me in line with her bark. And if that didn’t work…" Skylar trails off, her voice brittle. "She had other ways."
I say nothing but I remember how Hardwick’s fist would land and Skylar would crumple. Some punishments didn’t leave a mark for the world to see, but I saw. And I can’t forget.
She meets my gaze, "The only thing I know for sure is that you matter to her more than you realize. She couldn’t understand how you survived when everyone else died.
That’s made you a target. She’ll do anything to get you back to figure out what kept you alive, and how she can twist it to her advantage. "
And now that we know my blood might burn out the Mortalis Strain, she’ll want me even more, if she finds out. It’s clear there’s nothing else Skylar can tell us. She’s fraying at the edges, as wrung out and desperate as we all are.
Skylar reaches for a cookie, turning it over in her hand. "These are from Belmont’s, aren’t they? Mira, didn’t you tell me the owner’s mate is an Omega, and this is her signature scent? There’s something about it that’s so familiar."
Mira gives a tiny smile. "Yeah. Pack Belmont’s Omega’s scent is cookie dough."
The sweet aroma drifts toward me, all warm brown sugar and melted butter.
The Omega living in me lifts her head and frowns, something tugging in my mind, but before I can follow the thought, purposeful footsteps approach.
I twist in my seat, heart leaping in the hope that it’s Ronan and Jax, but Dr. Maverick strides toward us, mouth drawn tight.
Gabriel, Zane, and Soren are on their feet, setting their bodies between us and any potential threat.
"Dr. Maverick, what’s wrong?” Soren’s voice is pitched to cut through the tension.
My stomach sinks as Dr. Maverick’s gaze lands on me.
"We found something on your scan, Leah. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m going to come right out with it.
There’s a tracker embedded at the base of your neck, right against your spinal column.
It’s… tangled. Wrapped in your sp inal nerves. "
Fear lances straight up my back. "What?"
“You need immediate surgery to remove it.” Dr. Maverick adjusts his spectacles. “There’s already inflammation around the device. If it shifts just a millimeter, it could sever the nerves controlling your arms and legs."
He draws a breath, each word heavier than the last. "And… it’s still sending regular location pings. Whoever put it there knows where you are and that you’re alive. We have to remove it now. I’m sorry, Leah. It can’t wait."