Chapter 13
JUNIPER
Our trip to the Safe House was a lot shorter than I thought, and Kit had been very quiet the whole time. I knew I’d pushed too hard and hurt his feelings when I’d heard about the potential job, but I’d been so relieved. If Kit got this job with Emery, he wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen if the Safe House shut down.
Honestly, it would be a real pain to replace him. I didn’t know if anyone could fill the hole he’d leave. I wasn't the only person who felt safe around him. I’d seen him convince even the most paranoid omegas they could trust the Safe House. Gold packs who’d spent years burning through all kinds of dangerous hormones, self-sedating with expired meds rather than risk telling anyone about their heat. I’d learned first-hand what could happen if you told someone who betrayed your trust. But Kit… people trusted him enough to take the risk.
The Safe House might be done though, and Emery’s would be best for him. I hoped this meeting tomorrow with the Aisha Foundation went well, and I could make it up to him then.
When we got back to the apartment, Kit retreated to our room, mumbling something about a headache, and I took up a spot on the couch to fiddle on my laptop.
The doorbell rang, and I stood up from the couch with a frown. The pack should be back soon, but they’d never rung the doorbell.
“You expecting any packages?” I asked Kit when he peeked his head out of our room, and he shook his head.
“I don’t think so?" he said, but he had a tendency to forget. I sighed and opened my phone to the doorbell camera. All thoughts of Kit and the Safe House fled my brain. Two GPRE officers were standing outside.
My heart sank into my stomach.
The Gold Pack and Rogue Enforcement division of the Institute were essentially a division of the police. And I would bet the rest of my life savings on why they were here today.
Esme .
I could feel white hot anger building in my blood and tensing every muscle in my body. I took two steps toward the landing door, ready to go and tell them to fuck off.
“Who is it?" Kit asked, and the question gave me a little bit of my sanity back.
“GPRE,” I said through gritted teeth.
“What?” Kit repeated, looking up.
“It’s the fucking GPRE,” I said again, louder.
He paled, hurrying out to stand beside me, peering at my phone screen. His hand found mine, and he squeezed.
The doorbell rang again. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the universe that I’d dropped off the contacts at the Safe House already.
“I’ll do the talking,” Kit’s eyes met mine. “Just answer their questions and do what they say, okay?”
“Fuck, Kit,” I said, and he pulled me into a hug.
“Don’t give them a reason to take you away from me,” he murmured.
I was shaking. I could feel it, the anger and fear threatening to overwhelm me. I was terrified I would snap at them. They didn’t really need a reason to take unbonded gold pack omegas into custody. Didn’t need a trial to convict them and lock them away.
I took a deep breath, inhaling Kit’s warm almond scent, his familiar aura washing over me and calling me to be calm. He moved his head, brushing his neck against my hair in an unfamiliar motion. Almond buttercream covered me like a cloud, and I realized he’d scent marked me.
I blinked up at him and he smiled, making warmth spread through me from my head to my toes.
The doorbell rang again, and Kit led me downstairs to open the door.
Standing outside were male officers. One was older, a thick moustache on his red face, and the other was shorter than me, his face pinched and weasel-y.
“Good morning. Are you Juniper Anders?" Moustache asked. What a stupid question. He would already know there were no other gold pack omegas living at this address. I’d have to have a death wish to be hiding an unregistered gold pack omega in like, a secret underground nest hidden under a trapdoor and a rug or something. God, could you imagine if it was a male gold pack on top of everything? There was nothing the institute hated more than a gold pack male slipping under the radar, because he could father any number of little rogue babies without being caught.
I nodded in reply to the question, pursing my lips.
“We’re here investigating some claims that you’ve been breaking the law. We have a couple of questions for you. May we come in?”
“Yes,” said Kit, as the urge to swear at them rose again. “We’re upstairs.”
He turned, tugging me after him as we let the snakes slither into our house.
“Could we ask what she’s being investigated for?” Kit asked as I sat on a bar stool upstairs. He’d left my side, going to grab my purse. He came back and took out my Alpha-Omega Registration Number card, laying it on the counter next to his. My AORN card was blue, and it specified that I was gold pack.
“We have reason to believe that you have been concealing your gold pack status around alphas with the intent of conceiving a child,” said weasel-face, hooking his thumbs in the loops on his utility belt.
“What?” asked Kit, looking confused. “Why would you think that?”
“We have a report detailing that she has been seen in the presence of a pack while concealing her eyes?”
He flipped a page on his clipboard and showed us pictures of the Argo pack.
“Yes,” said Kit. “That pack is my scent match.”
“I see,” the officer sighed and offered Kit a pitying look. “We are following up on reports that she’s engaged in sexual relations with your pack.”
“Yes. And?” Kit replied. Weasel-face blinked at him, then glanced down at his clipboard and back up. I almost laughed at his confusion. This whole thing stunk of Esme’s nasty cigarette smoke and heavy perfume. Of course she’d want these officers to come in here and accuse Kit’s pack of cheating on him with me.
Then, in theory, Kit would dump us both and he’d be back on track with her evil plan.
“Right,” the officer said, still a bit thrown. His attention turned back to me.
“Are you up to date with your birth control measures?" he asked. I nodded.
“Alright. Have you had any unplanned pregnancies that have not been reported?”
I shook my head.
“I’m going to need you to take a vaginal semen sample and this pregnancy test for us,” said the weasel-face. I could feel myself flushing, and hoped they thought it was embarrassment and not anger.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, sir," said Kit, curling his toes as he shifted on his feet. “She’s on birth control and her heat just ended a few days ago.”
“These tests are a routine part of our investigative visits,” moustache replied flatly, holding out two boxes.
“I won’t take the semen sample,” I growled.
“Miss, we need to verify?—”
“You can verify with me,” I said, furious. “Yes, I’ve fucked all of them in the last week, multiple times. If you need more details, I can write out a timeline. Maybe draw some diagrams?”
Kit’s hand moved to my head, his nails running across my scalp in gentle circles. I snapped my mouth shut, cutting off the rest of my outburst. The officers were both looking at me, tense, and I could see one’s eyebrows furrowing.
“So, since she’s confirmed it,” Kit offered these undeserving bastards his sweetest smile, “surely you don’t need her to do the sample as well?”
The moustache folded his arms, but he’d relaxed a bit. The shorter one shrugged and put one of the boxes back. He held out the other one to me.
Before I could snatch it, Kit took it gently and passed it to me. This was fucking degrading, and I stormed to the bathroom to pee on the fucking stick.
Moustache followed, and I turned to look at him in irritation as he stepped into the bathroom with me.
“Sorry, miss, we have to make sure this test is genuine, and that you don’t attempt to dispose of any contraband,” he said, leaning against the door.
My fingernails dug painfully into my skin as I glared at him, and I deliberately took a deep breath, closing my eyes, and focusing on Kit’s sweet almond scent. How it surrounded me like my own personal bubble of protection.
Don’t give them a reason to take you away from me.
Somehow, I didn’t punch the officer in the face or slam the door on his foot. I opened the test, and then glared at him, not breaking eye contact as I peed on the fucking stick. He couldn’t hold my gaze, looking away, moustache twitching, which I counted as a win.
I returned to my bar stool, Kit winding his arm around me again.
“Have you ever tried to conceive a child?” the weasel-face asked me directly. I shook my head. Maybe I fucking should, to send another big fuck you to the GPRE. Here’s a little baby rogue alpha, merry fucking Christmas. Though at this point, there was a chance the birth control had fucked with my fertility permanently. “Have you ever worn any illegal contacts that changed the color of your eyes to conceal your gold pack designation?”
I shook my head.
“Alright, miss. We will be doing a full search of your apartment for any illegal items.”
By searching, they meant ‘utterly destroying’. I twitched as they started cutting open our couch cushions, and Kit switched to a full body hug, his calm aura sweeping over me again. I stared at our living room as they tore it apart, shaking with rage. The bathroom was taken apart next, our bottles and toiletries left scattered on the counter.
I could barely breathe, but Kit’s purr grounded me as they tore out my perfectly ordered linen closet, leaving everything on the ground. They disappeared into the spare room next.
I snarled as they opened the door to our room.
“That’s the nest,” Kit said faintly, hand stroking my hair. His purr had stuttered out, leaving me spinning, and almost falling into full panic.
“We have to check the whole place,” moustache said with a shrug.
“That’s his nest,” I said desperately. Kit had frozen behind me, and weasel-face gave a derisive snort, rolling his eyes and stepping into the room. Something desperate snapped inside me.
“No,” I snarled, and the weasel-face’s hand went to his taser as I lurched forwards. But then Kit was there, cradling my head to his chest, extinguishing my anger enough that I could stop.
His purr rumbled to life again, and I focused on that, trying to block out the terrifying sounds coming from behind the door. Fabric ripping, a heavy thump and cracking sound.
Panic built in me, and I twitched, but Kit’s arms tightened around me. He seemed perfectly calm, except for the paleness in his knuckles as he held me tight. If Kit could hold it together—Kit, who once cried when he lost a cookie—then I could too.
The officers came back out to the living area where we were standing, weasel-face calmly taking notes on his clipboard. I could barely see them through the tears of rage streaming down my face. I was trying to shut down, trying to mentally retreat from this torture.
Moustache tucked the pregnancy test into a plastic baggie.
“Your pregnancy test was negative. We have a few more questions, miss,” he said. “I see on your record you had a history of assault a few years back. Have you had any other trouble with violent outbursts since then? Any other signs of ferality?”
“The charges were dropped,” Kit said, and I’d never heard his voice so cold.
“The fact remains that you assaulted an elderly woman, unprovoked, with enough force to give her stitches.”
“It was provoked,” Kit insisted.
“The report said?—”
“My grandmother told us we were better off without my dead aunt. At her funeral. I doubt she included that detail in her report.”
There was an awkward pause. Moustache cleared his throat.
“Have you had any struggles with violent impulses, Miss Anders?”
I looked him straight in the eyes, blinking hard to clear away the tears, and shook my head. It wasn’t a lie this time. My violent thoughts were way past being an impulse. They were well into meticulously pre-meditated and drawn-out murder.
I heard the downstairs door open, and the sound of footsteps made their way up to us. Adrian stopped in the door, staring, and Ez crashed into him.
“Ow, dude—” Ez started, but then stopped as he saw what Adrian was looking at.
He pushed Adrian aside, and Jhin followed him. Vander was last.
They looked around the room, taking in the mess, the destroyed pillows and blankets, and then Kit, who was wrapped around me while I was still shaking with white-hot fury.
“What is the meaning of this?” Jhin asked, voice trembling with rage. I could feel the auras splitting into the room, and I saw weasel-face press a red button on his radio. Moustache shifted uncomfortably, hand resting on his gun.
“This is a routine GPRE investigation, sir,” said moustache, giving Jhin a respectful nod. “Into this gold pack. Don’t worry, it has nothing to do with your omega.”
“Do you have a warrant?” Jhin said sharply. Weasel-face hesitated, looking confused.
“We don’t need a warrant for gold pack omegas,” he said.
“I’m sure you need a credible reason for inflicting this level of emotional distress on these two. Destruction of an omega’s nest is considered a class B psychological assault.”
There was a snarl as Vander’s eyes darted toward the nest.
“Those laws don’t apply to gold pack omegas?—”
“That was his nest,” Jhin interrupted, pointing at Kit.
The officers hesitated, turning deathly pale. Weasel-face’s mouth fell open, his eyes darting between me and Kit.
“But this is her apartment —” moustache said, uncertainty lacing his voice.
“Wrong,” hissed Vander. “They both live here. They share a nest.”
“But she’s unbonded,” Weasel-face said faintly, eyes flicking to my AORN card.
I wanted to scream.
I already fucking told him that before they went in and he’d scoffed at me. But the Argo pack appears and now they’re ready to drop and lick boots.
“That doesn’t change the fact that they share a nest,” Jhin snapped.
Moustache swallowed.
“Do you have any actual evidence that Juniper was breaking the law?”
“Sorry, sir,” the moustache said, “We had a reliable report that this omega was wearing illegal contact lenses. We are required to take reasonable measures to ensure they are not hidden here.”
“Reliable? So you’re sure this report came from someone who has no personal vendetta against Juniper? No motive to give a false claim?” Jhin’s voice had settled into a deadly calm, his intense eyes boring into weasel-face. “I can tell you that we’ve been with Juniper all week, even through her heat, and her eyes have been gold the whole time.”
The officer took a step back.
“Ah,” said moustache, I could see sweat beading on his reddened forehead. “W-we didn’t realize you had an arrangement with her. We can add your testimony to the file. That should be enough to, um, drop the charges, right?” He shot a worried look at weasel-face, who gave a nervous smile.
Shock was beating through my system. God, I had underestimated how desperate the GPRE were to kiss alpha ass.
Drop the fucking charges?
Jhin wasn’t impressed. His aura, paired with the intensity of the look he was giving moustache was terrifying, making my hairs stand on end just seeing it. He was the only thing I could focus on in the room, everything else blurring out as I heard my heartbeat thump in my ears. Jhin was something else; this must be what it was like to stand before an emperor’s judgement, though I’d never say that out loud.
It was so intense I was half-expecting the officer to collapse with a heart attack. Or maybe drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.
“Come to think of it, Ortega, we should also record their omega’s testimony about her previous assault charge,” weasel-face said nervously. “It’s a bit of an oversight that we didn’t get both sides of the story. Think they could apply to clear it from her record?”
Clear it from my record?
There was a faint buzzing in my ears, and I thought I might throw up. That assault charge had barred me from getting a gold-pack work pass, effectively making me unemployable.
I’d been told it was permanent .
“That’s the least you can do,” Jhin said. “You will leave. Now. And expect to be hearing from me if you don’t sort both of those charges out.”
Moustache gave another nod, and the officers fled the room. The sounds of their footsteps on the stairs made my head pound, and I flinched as they closed the front door.
Kit burst into tears.
I unfurled and launched toward our room with a scream, barreling past Jhin and into the tattered remains.
Our nest was destroyed.
I stood, panting, taking in the damage. Our pillows and duvet covers were ripped apart, our mattress cut open, even two of my lava lamps had fallen and cracked, leaking out onto the hardwood floor. My eyes blurred again, and I felt a painful tightness around my lungs and heart as I struggled to reconcile what they’d done.
We’d spent so long trying to find the right fabrics and textures. We couldn’t afford to buy anything new, having to get everything second-hand from the thrift shop down the street. It had taken months of heavy-duty laundry and scent marking to make each item’s old smell fade so that when we crawled in there, it only smelled of us.
I could still hear their words. “We don’t need a warrant for gold pack omegas.”
And now, because of me, Kit had lost everything, too.
I looked down to see the remains of Kit’s favorite pillow at my feet.
I’d almost been banned from the store for fighting another omega for it after she snatched it from Kit’s hands.
I screamed again and grabbed one of the lava lamps, hurling it against the back wall. It properly shattered, and I grabbed the next one, throwing it as well. Those fucking bastards just walkedaway after what they’d done to me . To Kit.
I stormed out of our room, heading toward the front door. I didn’t care what the fucking consequences were, I would not let them leave here without paying for this. Someone said my name, and a hand grabbed my arm, but I tore free.
The door.
The GPRE.
There was another body in my way, and I ducked under it, hand reaching out, almost at the doorknob?—
Another scream tore from me as I was wrenched away, strong hands held me back, and I struggled, lashing out, kicking and biting. My torso was pinned to the floor and an angry pair of ice-blue eyes met mine. He had me pinned down.
“Help me, Vander,” I choked, trying to wriggle out “They’re getting away?—”
“I know,” he replied, teeth gritted, and I could see he was furious at that, too.
“Then fucking help me kill them !” I shouted, pushing with all my might, but it was useless. I screamed again, but this time it morphed into a wail, and then I was sobbing on the floor, choking on tears of frustration and rage. I was so fucking hot and my face ached, and everything fucking hurt.
Vander released me from the hold, and I curled up, still sobbing. He shifted; his touch surprisingly gentle. He pulled a stray blanket under my head as a makeshift pillow, and his arms wrapped around my waist, his head resting against mine.
Even after I’d run out of tears, my body still wracked with juddering breaths, I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to see it again, or face it, and if I moved, I’d have to deal with it. Vander tried extracting himself from my sticky form at one point, but I held him close.
“For fuck’s sake,” Vander said, but he didn’t really sound annoyed. “Bring him here.”
Then Kit was next to me, his glasses off and his face wet and red. We didn’t say anything, just moved close. I closed my eyes. More blankets were being pushed around us, on top of us, and I was miserable but cosy, and so, so exhausted. I drifted into sleep.
* * *