Chapter 39
thirty-nine
A tremor skirts along my spine as Finn cups my face in his hand.
His nose must hurt. Up close, I can see where I accidentally struck him.
It’s already swelling, but, for the first time since we met, he seems totally oblivious to his appearance.
Instead, he focuses entirely on me, tracing my cheekbone with his thumb and sloughing out a ragged exhale.
His features crack into a bleak, beautiful smile, but his voice grows hoarse.
“I’m so bad at this, Violet,” he husks. A manic gleam zips through his eyes. “Do you know how fucking ironic that is? I spent my whole stupid life charming people. Climbing out of gutters and up social ladders because I always knew exactly how to make people like me and trust me and—”
He scoffs, tipping his head back and glaring at the ceiling like he’s muttering at God. “Good one, you bastard. The only person in the whole world that I actually need to please and… you got me. Touché.”
Obviously, this alpha is on the verge of some sort of breakdown. And, oddly, it’s the most connected I’ve felt to him since we met.
After all, no one understands cruel irony more than I do. Especially given recent events.
I open my mouth to reassure him, but Finn shocks me, interrupting with a quiet snarl. “No,” he snaps. Eyes shining with raw intensity, he lifts his warm, soft hands to my face. I quiver again—and his features crack.
“No, baby,” he repeats softly, gaze beseeching. “Don’t you get it? I’m supposed to be the one comforting you. Making you laugh, and letting you finally feel fucking safe. You’re my mate—and you’ve been hurt. You shouldn’t have to teach me how to love you on top of all that other shit.”
There’s probably something wrong with me, because I want to argue, despite him being completely correct. When some of the rigidity evaporates from my posture, he steps closer. “I am your mate, right?” he whispers. “You’re supposed to know all my secrets?”
Anticipation and anxiety squirm in my stomach, but I hold my breath long enough to nod. Finn releases a shaky sigh, dropping his forehead to mine.
“Most people think I grew up in Princeton, New Jersey,” he starts, wincing slightly. “But I’m actually from a small town no one’s ever heard of, twenty miles from there…”
He pauses, weighing his words carefully. I find myself automatically leaning closer, skimming my hands down the back of his soft linen shirt. His purr starts up again, softer and more hesitant. It stutters when he closes his eyes and admits, “My parents were both heavily into drugs.”
Dread sinks into my center. The quiet shroud around us pulls taut, drawing more words from his lips. “They probably should have given me up,” he goes on. “But they wanted to try—”
His voice breaks on that word, scraping along the horrible, jagged truth of it.
“My parents did love me and want me. They just had so many damn demons fighting for their attention, there wasn’t a whole lot left for me, most days.
It made for a shitty childhood. Being broke all the time.
Not having enough food, most days. And just feeling… forgotten.”
Like I was, in that attic.
The thought echoes in my tight chest. An image floats to the surface of my mind—a beautiful little boy with hungry blue eyes, watching the rest of the world work in a way his never could.
“It made me… desperate, I guess,” Finn continues, cringing slightly. “I wanted what other people seemed to have. Then, when I got older, I decided I wanted better things than most people had. And that feeling just… gnawed at me.”
I can understand how growing up without anything could leave a person ravenous for more. But as I gaze up at Finn’s creased azure eyes, I don’t see greed. Just… pain. An ocean of it, glimmering in the late afternoon sun.
“H-how—” I pause to stop my chin from trembling. “How did you…”
Become this?
Finn’s mouth quirks into a humorless half-smile. “Crawl my way out?” he guesses, then swallows, sinking his fingers farther into my hair. His voice lowers to a murmur.
“Like I said, we were sort of near Princeton. Close enough for me to ride my bike there, when I got old enough. I used to go watch the people. Marvel at how clean and smart and shiny they looked.”
Empathy swells to block my throat. I can imagine feeling the same way, after the last seven years of my life. When I can finally venture out, will the rest of the world make me feel like an outsider looking in?
“I decided I wanted to go to college,” Finn concludes. “But not just any school—an Ivy League one. So I studied my ass off, charmed all my teachers into recommendations, did every philanthropy I could find—and I got into Columbia.”
“Which is where you met Gideon,” I realize. “And—and Atlas.”
“Gideon first,” Finn sighs. “He was assigned to be my roommate because he had listed his designation as ‘alpha.’ But I knew that was bullshit within twenty minutes.”
“Finn’s a bit of a… rogue.” I remember Gideon’s noncommittal shrug so vividly. My teeth sink into my lower lip, bracing for an answer I may not like.
“Did you… help him keep his designation hidden? Is that how you became friends?”
A hard thud hits my stomach when Finn shakes his head.
“No,” he replies, more solemn than I’ve ever seen him.
“After a few weeks, I could tell he needed someone to back him up. So I approached him with a deal. I told him I knew the truth and promised not to tell anyone… if he gave me a place in the pack he had to start.”
Dismay reverberates through my chest. I blink, trying to follow the logic of basically blackmailing Gideon. My heart flips when I realize, “You needed his money so you could afford to stay in school.”
It isn’t a question, really. Because, somehow, I know I’m correct. Even before Finn flashes his perfect teeth in another grimace.
“Yeah. I did.” Shame darkens his gaze. “Dick move, right?”
I can’t exactly say no. And yet…
My fingers stroke lower before bunching in his shirt. Holding onto him. “I imagine you were probably scared. And I know Gideon had a lot of money,” I murmur, recalling his packmate’s rueful smirks. “I don’t think he holds it against you.”
Finn’s answering smile is purely plaintive. “I know,” he says. “But… I hold it against me.”
Maybe that shouldn’t matter. But, somehow, in this moment? It’s all that does.
My pitiful little omega purr starts up, buzzing behind my breasts. Finn feels it sink into his chest and shudders, his breath quivering out of him. He stills for a long second, as if weighing whether or not to go on.
Half of me expects him to leave it. Pivot back to flirty grins and suggestive jokes. Find whatever fancy gift he bought and show me a dozen viral TikTok videos of other women wearing it.
Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut, wrinkling the swollen bridge of his nose. “There’s more, firefly, but—”
I lean into him, pressing my soft rattle into his sternum. My heart swells as he struggles to scrape out the rest. He’s trying so hard. And it’s not like I’m perfect. There are things I haven’t told him, either.
“That’s okay,” I whisper, cutting him off. “You don’t have to tell me everything all at once. We have time, right? And, maybe, instead of gifts, you can just… tell me a little more. A new story every day.”
Finn gusts a relieved sigh. “Yes,” he rasps, cupping my face tighter. “I can do that.” He pauses for a second, then leans back just far enough to quirk an eyebrow at me. “So, do you mean, like, no more presents at all, or…?”
I giggle at the hopeful eagerness in his eyes. “Gideon was right,” I mutter, shaking my head with mock disapproval. “You are a rogue.”
Finn flashes his stunning grin, but this one seems more beautiful than usual. Probably because of the genuine joy underneath. “I’ve been called worse things, honey.”
I bet he has. The thought has me rolling my eyes in typical Gideon fashion, just in time for the man himself to stroll into the kitchen from the living room.
He slows his steps, snapping his gray gaze over the way Finn and I are entangled.
A wry twist lifts the corner of his mouth as he apologizes for his interruption.
“Sorry, Vi. I was looking for Atlas so I could ask him what he wants for dinner.” His rueful look intensifies.
“Yours smells so good, I’m practically drooling. ”
I open my mouth to tell him I made enough for everyone, but then I remember the way he and Atlas have studiously avoided eating any of my food. Finn feels me stiffen in his arms, glancing between Gideon and me.
“You know,” Finn starts deceptively off-hand. “This kitchen nook is small, and we don’t have a formal dining room set up yet, but I bet we could all fit around the table on the back patio.”
Gideon freezes, his focus flickering from his best friend’s face to mine. Whatever he finds there turns his smirk into something softer. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Good idea, Finn. I’ll… grab some plates and text Atlas.”
He saunters around us, pulling out his phone as he goes. My scent must give away just how happy I am about this development, because Finn bends to nuzzle my cheek, murmuring, “Better, firefly?”
Oh, I realize. He did this on purpose. He knew it was what I really wanted.
Surprise and delight sparkle through my chest. I step back just enough to flash him a conspiratorial grin, mouthing, “Rogue.”
“Your rogue,” he growls, low enough to raise goosebumps on my nape. “I like that firefly. Maybe you can use my evil powers for good.”
Gideon scoffs, interjecting with a laugh. “Don’t count on it!”
Finn pretends to pout, but I catch the mirth dancing in his eyes. He fishes out his own phone. “I’ll text Ry—”
Ryker.
My burly blond alpha thunks down the kitchen staircase before Finn finishes saying his name. He pauses on the bottom step, shooting Finn and Gideon wary looks before snapping his intense hazel gaze to mine.
I grin just for him. “Dinner,” I explain. “The sauce should be done simmering by now. I made Finn’s favorite Bolognese. Gideon gave me the recipe.”
Ryker’s craggy features relax, but Finn crows, spinning me into a kiss. “Seriously?! Gideon, you glorious bastard. I fucking love you.”
The omega shakes his head as he continues unloading plates from their china cabinet.
But I catch the small, genuine smile on his face.
Seeing it settles the last of my guilt over forgiving Finn so easily.
No matter how they became packmates, I’m pretty sure I’m right about Gideon needing my alpha as much as he needed Gid.
Ryker appears behind me, glowering until his packmate reluctantly releases me. The warm scent of tonka beans tingles into my lungs for one blissful moment…
Before Ryker bends and swings me into his arms.
I shriek in delight while he carts me toward the back door.
Finn joins in, his rich laugh weaving into the commotion.
Ryker doesn’t crack a full smile, but his lips twitch as he plants several no-nonsense kisses on my face.
Gideon watches me giggle with unexpected warmth in his gray gaze—then rolls his eyes when he catches me peeking back at him.
Atlas wanders in just before Ryker steps out of the French doors. Tension pulls at the air as he glances around, taking in the scene. His pack, all together. With me.
Gideon simply balances our plates against his hip and pauses to rub a scent-mark over his alpha’s jaw. “We’re gonna eat on the patio,” he reports breezily. “Can you grab a bottle of Bordeaux and some glasses? Finn—bring out the sauce and the pasta.”
My handsome alpha scoffs. “You are so not the boss of me, pipsqueak.”
I snort another giggle, scolding him with a groan, “Finn!”
“See?” he quips. Snapping into motion, he shoots me a scoundrel’s wink before grinning at Gid. “She’s the boss of me.”
“Well, thank God someone is!” the other omega retorts, smiling wider. “Honestly, Vi, I owe you one for taking this dickhead off our hands.”
A week ago, the words would have cut like daggers. Now, I only find genuine amusement on Gideon’s face when he flashes me an exasperated look.
Atlas must be as stunned as I am. He goes still, staring at Gideon’s face in awed silence before his omega arches a brow and elbows him lightly. “Babe? The wine?”
“Yes.” Atlas blinks, clearing the shock from his expression with a cough. “Right. Of course.”
Ryker steps over the threshold into the balmy summer evening. A rasping huff rumbles in his throat—and it takes me a moment to realize: Finn might be a rogue, but he also may have just pulled off a miracle. Because even my lion is laughing.