Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
KIERAN
The house feels like a goddamn tomb without her.
As I sit in the dim light of the living room, with the TV blaring some bullshit about the stock market that I can’t bring myself to care about. Her scent of cherry blossom still lingers here, sweet and innocent, making my throat tight with each breath I take.
I did the right thing. I know I did.
How could I possibly keep the daughter of my parents’ killer in my home? In my bed? But if it was the right thing, why do I feel like such a fucking failure?
I pick up the remote and turn up the volume, trying to drown out my thoughts with noise. It doesn’t work. All I can see is her face when I told her to leave and the tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. The way she looked at me was like I was destroying her world.
Fuck.
I drag a hand down my face, feeling the stubble I haven’t bothered to shave. My wolf is restless, prowling beneath my skin, whining for our omega.
No. She’s not our omega.
Her mother killed my parents, left Nora without parents, and left me to raise a baby sister when I was barely an adult myself. The very foundation of our family was shattered because of what her mother did.
The sound of tires screeching on the driveway pulls me from my spiral of self-justification. I recognize the engine—Drake’s Audi. The slamming of a car door follows, then footsteps stomping up to the front porch. The door flies open with enough force to bounce off the wall.
Drake stands in the doorway, his eyes glowing with fury. His sandy hair is disheveled, like he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly.
“What the actual fuck, Kieran?” he snarls, stalking toward me.
I rise to my feet, my own anger flaring to match his.
“Watch your tone,” I warn.
“I’ll watch my tone when you explain why the fuck our omega is sitting alone in her apartment crying her eyes out! Why is she alone?!” Drake is in my face now, jabbing a finger at my chest. The scent of his rage, cinnamon turned acrid with fury, fills the space between us.
“She’s not our omega,” I growl back. “And she’s not going to be.”
Drake’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? Tell me your logic, so help me God.”
“Her mother killed our parents, Drake,” I say, my voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “Her mother is the reason we had to grow up without them. I had to drop out of college to take care of Nora. The reason our lives were destroyed.”
“And what the fuck does that have to do with Francine?” Drake demands. “She didn’t kill anyone!”
Before I can answer, the front door opens again.
Rowan and Elias walk in, both looking equally furious. Great. The whole fucking pack is here to question my judgment. Drake must have told them already.
“What the hell is going on?” Elias asks, his normally calm voice tight with anger. He pushes his glasses up his nose, amber eyes flashing behind them.
“Ask our pack leader,” Drake spits. “He just threw out the only omega all four of us have ever wanted. With a bullshit of an excuse.”
Rowan’s eyes narrow as he takes in the scene. “What happened?”
I cross my arms over my chest, standing my ground. “Francine’s mother was the arsonist who set the fire that killed our parents. She was keeping newspaper clippings about it in her room.”
Elias’s jaw drops. “What?”
“She was what?” Rowan asks simultaneously.
“Yeah, that was my reaction too,” I say, the bitterness seeping into my voice. “Turns out our perfect omega is the daughter of the woman who murdered our parents.”
“So you kicked her out?” Elias asks, disbelief coloring his voice. “Without even talking to us first?”
“I don’t need to consult you on every decision I make for this pack,” I snap. “I’m the alpha.”
Drake laughs, the sound sharp and humorless. “Oh, that’s convenient. Pull the alpha card when you make a unilateral decision that affects all of us.”
“It wasn’t a decision about the pack. It was about protecting us.”
“From what?” Rowan’s voice is quiet but intense. “From Francine? Who took care of Nora like she was her own? Who submitted to us completely during her heat?”
His words bring back vivid memories, Francine on her hands and knees, taking my cock in her ass, her moans of pleasure filling the room. The way she looked at me afterward, with such trust, such vulnerability.
I quickly push the thoughts away.
“She lied to us,” I insist. “She knew who her mother was, what she did, and she kept it from us.”
“She was scared,” Drake counters. “What was she supposed to do?”
“She should have told me before we... before the heat.”
Drake runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “When exactly? When her heat hit unexpectedly? When she was in agony? When she was passed out between us, recovering? There was no good time.”
“Why are you so upset?” I ask, a sudden suspicion forming. “Wasn’t there an omega you met weeks ago? What happened to her?”
Drake stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Are you seriously this stupid? It was Francine, you idiot. It’s always been Francine.”
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah, and why the fuck would I have told you? You would never have hired her,” seethes Drake.
“You don’t even see what you’ve done, do you?” Rowan says quietly to me. “You’ve rejected our mate. The one omega meant for all of us.”
“She can’t be our mate,” I argue, but the words sound hollow even to my own ears. “Not with that connection.”
“You know who else thinks family connections are too painful?” Drake asks, his voice suddenly dropping low. “Francine. Her mother killed her fathers too.”
The words hit me like a bucket of ice water. “What?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Drake nods, seeing he has my attention. “Her fathers died in the same fire. Her mother did it for the insurance money. She only confessed on her deathbed, asking for forgiveness that Francine couldn’t give her.”
The room goes completely silent. I feel the blood drain from my face as the implication sinks in. Francine lost her parents to the fire, too. To the same killer. Her own mother.
Fuck.
“She...” My voice cracks, and I have to clear my throat. “She never said anything about that.”
“Why would she?” Elias asks softly. “She was probably terrified of how you’d react.” His expression turns bitter. “And look how right she was.”
“She didn’t deserve this,” I say quietly, envisioning a young Francine scared and confused, wondering where the rest of her family was.
“Damn right she didn’t,” says Drake, his anger diffusing slightly when he sees the remorse in my eyes.
“I fucked up so bad,” I groan, sinking onto the couch.
“Yeah, you did,” Rowan agrees, but his voice has lost its edge. He sits beside me, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “But we can fix it.”
“I don’t know. The look on her face when I told her leave. It was the ultimate betrayal,” I say, feeling empty and not knowing what to think now.
“She’ll understand,” says Drake. “She doesn’t even forgive her own mother.”
“I’ll call off the investigation on the fire,” I say suddenly. “There’s no point now. We know who did it.”
“She’s dead anyway,” says Elias quietly.
“I don’t know if Francine will forgive me,” I admit. “I wouldn’t in her position.”
The four of us sit in silence for a moment, the reality of our situation settling over us. I’ve potentially destroyed our only chance at having the omega fate intended for us.
I make my way upstairs, my feet carrying me automatically to the room where Francine stayed. I push open the door, and her scent hits me immediately—cherry blossoms, now tainted with the salty tang of tears.
I step inside, closing the door behind me.
The bed is still rumpled from where I sat looking at those newspaper clippings. I run my hand over the sheets, remembering how she looked coming out of the bathroom in just a towel, her red hair wet and clinging to her skin.
The absolute horror in her eyes when she saw me holding the newspapers of our parents’ deaths.
Tears spill over, tracking hot down my cheeks as I sink onto the bed. I press a fist against my heart, trying to ease the aching there. My phone is heavy in my pocket. I pull it out, thumb hovering over her contact information.
I start to type a text, then delete it.
It would be better to talk in person than over text message. I need to see her face-to-face.
The car feels too small for four grown alphas, especially when three of them are silently judging me behind the wheel. I grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white as we speed toward Francine’s apartment.
The back seat and the trunk are stuffed with flowers and chocolate. It seems pathetic and laughable to me, but Rowan insisted.
I glance in the rearview mirror. Rowan sits stoically, his eyes focused on the passing scenery, but I can feel the disappointment radiating from him.
Next to him, Elias is tapping away on his phone, probably researching ‘how to apologize to your omega after being a complete asshole.’ Drake, in the passenger seat, hasn’t looked at me once since we got in the car.
We barely managed to get Nora off to school this morning. She sensed something was wrong, asking where “Franny” was in that innocent way that made me want to crawl into a hole. Drake told her Francine had to take care of some personal business but would be back soon. The lie tasted sour in the air.
The expensive bouquets of roses, lilies, and cherry blossoms fill the car with their cloying fragrance. I bought out half the flower shop this morning, desperate to find something, anything, that might show her how sorry I am.
Boxes of gourmet chocolates, a cashmere sweater in the exact shade of green as her eyes, and a small velvet box containing a white gold necklace with a cherry blossom pendant sit among the flowers.
Her apartment building comes into view, and I park in the visitor’s spot, cutting the engine and taking a deep breath.
“Let’s go,” I say, not waiting for a response before getting out of the car.
The four of us must make quite a sight, each over six feet tall, built like the alpha werewolves we are, arms loaded with flowers and gift boxes. An older woman walking her dog gives us a wide berth as we pass, her eyes widening at the procession.
“Which apartment is hers?” asks Rowan.
“Third floor, door 306,” Drake replies, leading the way up the external staircase.
Each step feels heavier than the last. What if she refuses to see us? What if the damage I’ve done is irreparable? My wolf whines anxiously, desperate to see our omega, to make things right.
We reach her door, and I find myself hesitating. Drake rolls his eyes and steps forward, balancing his bouquet in one arm while he knocks firmly with the other hand.
No answer.
He knocks again, louder this time. “Francine? It’s Drake. We need to talk to you.”
The silence stretches on, broken only by the distant sound of traffic and someone’s TV playing in another apartment.
“Maybe she’s not home,” Elias suggests, but there’s worry in his voice.
A knot of anxiety tightens in my gut. “I’ll call her.”
I set down my armload of gifts and pull out my phone, finding her contact. The phone rings and rings, eventually going to voicemail. Her cheerful, beautiful voice asks me to leave a message.
“Francine, it’s Kieran,” I say after the beep, trying to keep my voice steady. “We’re outside your apartment. All of us. We really need to talk to you. Please... please just open the door.”
I hang up and wait, but the door remains firmly closed. I try again, calling twice more with the same result.
“Something’s wrong,” Drake says, his brow furrowed with concern. “When I left her yesterday, she was upset but answering her phone. She texted me last night that she was going to bed early.”
“Stand back,” I order, moving to the door.
“Kieran, what are you—” Elias begins, but stops when I plant my foot next to the door handle and kick hard.
The door frame splinters with a crack, the door swinging open violently. Her scent hits me immediately, layered with the unmistakable tang of deep sadness and dried tears.
“Francine?” I call out, stepping into the small apartment.
It’s tidy, with simple furnishings and a few framed photos on the walls. One photo catches my eye. It’s a younger Francine with two smiling men who must be her fathers. The sight makes my chest ache with renewed guilt.
“Francine, are you here?” Elias calls, moving past me to check the bedroom.
We spread out, searching the small apartment. It doesn’t take long to confirm she’s not here.
“I’ll check the bathroom,” Drake says, heading down the short hallway.
I stand in the middle of her living room, feeling utterly lost. Her scent surrounds me, reminding me of what I’ve thrown away. A small book lies open on the coffee table, a romance novel with a dog-eared page. A half-empty mug of tea sits next to it. It’s like she just stepped out for a moment.
“Kieran,” Rowan’s voice comes from the bathroom doorway. There’s something in his tone that makes my blood run cold. “You need to see this.”
I move quickly to join him, Drake, and Elias, already crowded into the small bathroom. Drake is holding something in his hand, his expression stunned.
“What is it?” I ask, though I already know the answer before Rowan holds it up.
A pregnancy test. Positive.
The world seems to tilt sideways, the bathroom suddenly too small, too hot, too everything. I grab the doorframe to steady myself, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.
“She’s pregnant,” I whisper, the words barely making it past my lips.
“With one of our pups,” Elias confirms, his face pale behind his glasses.
The implications crash over me like a wave. Francine is carrying our child. And she’s alone, thinking we’ve rejected her. And probably thinking it’s her fault.
“We have to find her,” I say, my voice suddenly hoarse with emotion. “Now.”
“Where would she go?” Drake asks, still staring at the pregnancy test in his hand.
“Maybe she just went for a walk,” Elias suggests. “To clear her head after finding out.”
“Or maybe she went to her sister’s,” Rowan adds. “Carmen would be the first person she’d turn to with news like this.”
My mind races, trying to think where she might go, what she might do. The omega carrying my pack’s pup is out there somewhere, probably terrified and heartbroken, believing she has to face this alone.
“I did this,” I say, the weight of my actions crashing down on me. “I drove her away when she needed us most.”
Drake’s hand lands heavily on my shoulder.
“We’ll find her,” he says firmly. “And we’ll make this right.”
But as I stare at the positive pregnancy test, the stark reality of what I’ve done hits me with devastating force. I didn’t just reject my omega. I rejected the mother of my pack’s child. The thought makes me physically ill.