Chapter 5
Evander
I had been in the Client House building before, but never like this. Never with my pulse hammering in my throat. Never with the sick weight of dread twisting in my gut. Never with the knowledge that somewhere behind one of these identical doors was the boy I’d spent ten years searching for.
It had been a long three days on top of the ten years of searching, of hoping, of waiting.
Three extra days shouldn’t have been so taxing, but it had been twice as hard as those ten years.
The hallway was too quiet, too clean, and too controlled.
Every door looked the same. White, numbered, and sterile. A row of rooms disguised as luxury. A place where Omegas were rented as if they were furniture instead of people.
I saw this place with a new set of eyes, knowing fully what went on behind those closed doors.
And I hated it.
I hated that I was here. Hated that Kasey was here. I hated that this was the only way to get close to the Omega without raising suspicion.
A handler walked ahead of me, keys jingling against his pocket with every step. Since I wasn’t a regular client, protocol said a Beta had to escort me through the halls and deliver me to the room personally.
Room twenty-seven.
He stopped at the door. “You have two hours.”
I nodded like it mattered. But I already knew two hours wasn’t the plan. I wasn’t leaving this building without that Omega. Not this time. Not after finding him again.
The Beta dipped his head before turning away, walking back the way we came.
Taking one last deep breath, I twisted the door handle and pushed it open on smooth hinges.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
Kasey was on the floor, kneeling. Back straight, shoulders set, hands resting lightly on his thighs. Perfect posture. Perfect stillness. The kind of stillness that wasn’t natural. The kind that was trained, demanded, beaten into someone until it became instinct.
Nothing else in the room mattered; my eyes stayed glued to the Omega.
He was as naked as the day he was born. A splattering of bruises covered parts of his body that he didn’t bother to hide from me.
He didn’t look up when I entered. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even seem to register the sound of the door closing.
He was there physically, small frame, bowed head, the familiar shape of him that I’d carried in my memory for a decade, but mentally? He wasn’t anywhere close to this room.
His eyes were open, but empty as I walked in front of him. His gaze was focused on something, but he saw nothing. Pupils dilated; the blue almost completely gone.
Kasey was a hallowed version of the boy I used to know.
My stomach twisted. I’d prepared myself a lot before coming here. Prepared for anger, shock, and maybe even fear. But not this. Not the sight of Kasey kneeling like he’d been carved out of obedience and silence.
Like his own thoughts had been washed from his mind.
I took a step forward, carefully, like approaching a wounded animal. “Kasey…”
Nothing. Not even a flicker.
He stayed perfectly still, perfectly quiet, just the way they wanted him. The way they shaped him. The way they’d taken him apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but a shell of an Omega.
Anger hit me square in my chest.
I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this. This wasn’t the reunion I imagined. This wasn’t the boy I remembered, even three days ago.
And I knew, with clarity that hit me like a punch, that I wasn’t walking out of this room without him.
Not again.
The past three days were enough torture on my soul. Going any sort of time without having this Omega in my life would be the cause of my death.
“Kasey.” His name left my mouth before I could stop it, yet I got the same response as moments ago.
Absolutely nothing.
I stepped closer, slow enough to not startle him, though I doubted anything could.
“Kasey.” I tried again, quieter this time. “Look at me.”
Nothing.
His gaze stayed fixed on the floor, unfocused, like he wasn’t seeing it at all. Like he wasn’t seeing anything.
I crouched in front of him, lowering myself until I was level with his bowed head. Close enough to see the faint shadows under his eyes, the way his lashes rested against his pale cheeks, the way his expression held nothing.
“Kasey. Please.”
Still, nothing.
He wasn’t ignoring me. He wasn’t resisting. He simply…wasn’t there.
Whatever part of him used to light up when he saw me, whatever spark made him laugh, or pout, or cling to my sleeve when he was scared, had been pushed so far down he couldn’t reach it anymore.
I lifted my hand, stopping inches from his face before cupping his cheek in my palm.
The only thing he did was blink slowly, like that alone too all the energy out of him.
“Look at me, Omega.” I said, my voice barely holding steady.
His eyes finally shifted. Not up, not towards me, just a tiny flick, like he’d heard an order that he couldn’t ignore.
There was no light in his eyes. There was no hope. No life.
“What have they done to you?”
My gaze roamed over the rest of his form, taking note of the deep purple marks around his neck. The way the darker indents of fingers popped here and there, like someone tried to strangle the life out of him.
I lifted his chin gently. This close, the damage was impossible to ignore.
Shadows covered Kasey’s skin, faint in some places, darker in others. It was scattered across him like someone had tried to paint over a canvas that used to be whole. They were fresh, less than a full day.
Kasey didn’t flinch as I gently brushed the back of my hand down his torso. He didn’t shy away. He knelt there, enduring whatever I wished to do to him.
Whoever put these marks on him deserved to die in the slowest, painful way possible.
Disgusted by my own thoughts, I stood too quickly, my head rushing with blood.
“This isn’t what I wanted. You…. you were to be…. Not here. Not harmful. Not…. this.”
My words came out harsher than I intended. They came out with part growl, not fully formed, as anger took ahold.
How could anyone harm such a being? Didn’t they know how precious Omega’s were to society?
This place was to keep them safe, no matter how they came to be here. This place was said that they prided themselves on how they raised Omegas, training them to be human with love and kindness, but also to be what any Alpha could possibly dream of wanting.
But this….
This Omega before me was none of that. He was shattered.
As I paced the room, pulling at my hair, I didn’t notice when Kasey slowly stood, pulling himself onto the bed. I didn’t notice how pale his face went, or how weak he was. I didn’t notice any of it until I passed the end of the bed, seeing a single glimpse of something I wish I could unsee.
Kasey was on all fours, ass in the air, arms stretched out before him like an offering.
If it was any other time, any other place, it’d have been a sight to cherish, a sight to behold and never forget.
Instead, a growl bubbled forth from my chest as old and new scars and welts decorated his back glared at me.
“Fuck, Kase.”
How had he survived any of this?
Up close, the evidence of what he’d endured was impossible to ignore.
Faint marks crossed his back in uneven patterns, layered over each other like history no one had bothered to hide. Years of it. Years he’d been alone.
But then, right there, right on top of his shoulder blades, sat on a birthmark.
The tiny shape I used to tease him about, the one that looked like the smallest flower on earth.
Two little petals pressed together, darker than the rest of his skin, like someone had touched him there once and left a little blessing behind.
I used to joke that an angel had kissed him. He used to roll his eyes and laugh.
Seeing it now knocked the air out of me.
If I’d had even a sliver of doubt about who this Omega was, it vanished the moment I saw that mark. This is Kasey. The boy I’d sworn to protect. The boy I’d lost.
And the boy who didn’t even know I was standing right here.
My hand moved on its own accord, reaching out to touch the mark. I hoovered right above the skin, feeling the heat of Kasey, yet it was too far away, fighting the instinct to pull back.
But I needed to know, needed to feel it. I needed to prove to myself that he was real and not some cruel hallucination my mind had conjured after ten years of searching.
My fingertips brushed the small mark between his shoulder blades. I traced the familiar shape.
His skin was warm beneath my touch, yet he didn’t stir. He stayed perfectly still, like my touch was nothing.
Not able to help myself, my fingertips trailed down his back, taking in the peppered scars and welts.
My eyes followed, tracking the stripes that zig zagged.
Tracked how a few welts looked as though they were beginning to become infected.
Tracked how skinny this boy was by the way his spine popped out beneath his skin.
When was the last time he had a decent meal?
“When I get you home,” I murmured, my hand still resting against the small mark between his shoulders, “I’m going to make your favorite. I’m pretty sure I still have everything for honey bread.”
The memory rose so clearly it almost hurt.
Kasey standing on a stool beside my mother, sleeves rolled up, face dusted with flour. He’d loved helping her mix the dough, always sneaking tastes of honey when he thought no one was looking. And she’d adored him for it, teaching him every step like he was her own.
Sometimes I join them. Most of the time, I just watched — the two of them laughing in the kitchen, sunlight catching in Kasey’s hair, the whole world feeling simple for a little while.
My fingers brushed the base of his spine, feeling the faint thrum of his pulse beneath his skin that was far too thin. He was fragile, worn down, exhausted, barely holding himself upright.
He shouldn’t have been here. Not like this.
Not under my gaze, trying so hard to be perfect when he could barely stay present.
He was the ghost of the boy I remember. And I was determined to bring him back. No matter what it took, no matter how long, I would bring my Kasey back.