Chapter forty #3
“We just need to sign the final forms for custody to be transferred,” Jeremy says. He’s talking to Gabriel too, but he looks at me. “It’s straightforward. Gabriel signs over his temporary custody, you sign acceptance of transfer and acceptance of my permanent custody, and that’s it.”
A clerk brings in more forms. Gabriel signs right away, no hesitation. His hand moves steady across the page. He doesn’t even look at me.
I watch his hand. That same hand that held mine while Miles was inside me and I got to feel all three of us connected. Now it’s signing me away.
The clerk slides the transfer form over to me. My name at the top, OMEGA CUSTODY TRANSFER—VOLUNTARY REASSIGNMENT.
I pick up the pen.
The words blur. My eyes fill up but it doesn’t matter. The last piece of anything left inside me tears loose. Forget dignity. Forget standing tall. This is my last chance.
I put the pen down.
I get up.
“I don’t want to leave you.”
Gabriel stands by the wall, arms crossed, expression cold. He doesn’t move.
“Please.” The tears are running freely now and I don’t care.
I don’t care about the clerk or Jeremy or the buzzing fluorescent lights.
“Please don’t do this. Give me another chance.
He’ll come around, he always comes around.
I’ll do better, I’ll stay in my own room, I won’t touch your alphas or you—I’ll do whatever he says.
I’ll be a ghost again. Please, Alpha, don’t make me leave.
I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose him. Please.”
He uncrosses his arms and steps forward. He takes both my hands in his, and for one second—a single, bright, horrible second—I think maybe he’ll say yes.
He looks me in the eyes. His are wet. That’s the worst part. He’s not cold, he’s not checked out. He’s heartbroken… but he’s still going to leave me here.
“It’s done, Lily. I’m sorry.” He has to stop for a second. “Miles will always come first. You have to go.”
He lets go of my hands and turns away.
He walks out.
Doesn’t even look back.
The door clicks shut behind him and I’m left in a registry office with Jeremy Carr and a clerk and a form with my name on it and no one left to beg.
The sound that comes out of me isn’t crying. It’s worse. It’s what’s left after every good thing walks out a door.
Jeremy stands. He walks over and wraps me up. His purr starts right away. Deep. Warm. An alpha purr built to settle omegas down. He holds me like he’s been waiting for it. The gentleness makes it hurt more because it’s the wrong arms. The wrong scent. The wrong everything.
“I’ve got you,” he tells me. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
I’m not okay. I’m nowhere close to okay. But his purr does what it’s supposed to do—it slows my heart, calms my breathing, tricks my body into thinking I’m safe even though my mind knows I’m not. I let him hold me because the alternative is crumpling onto the floor.
He sits and pulls me into his lap. I curl up, face against his neck, breathing in his scent. It’s not right. It’s not the scents that have become a part of me over the last few weeks. I don’t crave this. It isn’t close to what I need… but it’s something.
“Let’s get these signed,” Jeremy says, soft, and he guides the pen into my hand. I don’t look at the forms, just sign where he points. Line after line, initials, date. Every time the pen hits paper, another door slams shut.
The clerk stamps the forms and says processing takes twenty-four hours. It means nothing to her. Like I’m just a car or an old sofa getting transferred to a new owner.
Jeremy stands, still holding me. I cling to him, legs around his waist, because letting go would mean standing up on my own, and I can’t do that right now. He carries me through the lobby, past the desk, past the clerk who doesn’t look up, out the doors and into sunlight.
It’s a beautiful day. Sun blazing, sky clear. A day that should mean something good.
It’s cold, but his body is warm.
He sets me in his truck, buckles me in. My hands sit in my lap. I stare at the dashboard and see nothing.
“You’re going to be okay, Lily,” Jeremy says. He squeezes my hand. “I know this isn’t how you wanted it to go. But you’re going to be fine.”
Fine. The word bounces right off me, doesn’t stick.
He closes my door, goes around and starts the engine.
We drive away. I watch the registry shrink in the mirror, the big letters over the door getting smaller and smaller until they vanish.
I don’t ask where we’re going. I don’t care. Miles doesn’t want me. Gabriel chose him. The alphas let me go.
The only thing I see is their faces. Miles eating fruit. Gabriel’s eyes wet. Garrett offering breakfast in a shaky voice. Cyrus standing in the living room, not saying anything, his hand that was on my hip last night hanging useless at his side.
Maybe Jeremy will be kind. His pack will give me what they promised—the nesting closet, the stability, the steady warmth. In time, I’ll stop reaching for a scent that’s not there. I’ll forget Miles’s forehead pressed against mine. I’ll stop hearing stay whispered in the dark.
Maybe. One day. But not today.
Today I am the stray.
And nobody wants a stray.