Chapter 22 #2
Then I go.
They've arranged themselves like a committee—Ragon in his big chair, Drake on the end of the sofa, Eli perched on the armrest, Jasper leaning against the bookshelf. Marie is tucked in the opposite corner, legs curled under her, hands wrapped around a mug.
The new alpha stands near the coffee table, a leather messenger bag at his feet.
He's annoyingly handsome.
Tall but not looming, dark hair threaded with early silver at the temples, beard trimmed close. His mouth is soft at the corners. His eyes are a deep, steady brown that flick to me and stay without pinning.
Button-down and dark jeans, sleeves rolled to forearms, a lanyard hanging from his pocket. The OPA badge clipped to it has his photo and a name:
Dr. Arden Hale.
Of course Jasper's friend is a walking brochure.
"Verena," he says, and the way he says my name isn't clinical. "Thank you for joining us. I'm Arden."
He doesn't offer a hand. He doesn't come closer. He just waits.
I stand on the threshold a beat longer, then step into the room and perch on the very edge of the farthest end of the couch. His scent shifts a little, like he's pleased I didn't bolt.
"How are you feeling about having me here?"
Direct. No small talk.
I blink. "Indifferent. Mildly annoyed. Curious."
One corner of his mouth tips up. "That's honest. Good."
Ragon clears his throat. "We called you in for a consult. My omega's been off. There were some incidents. I want to make sure we haven't missed anything."
Arden's gaze flicks briefly to him, then back to me. "I read the outline Jasper sent. I'd like to hear it from Verena as well. If that's okay with you."
His attention stays on me while he asks.
That simple courtesy does something weird to my chest.
"Sure. I'm sure the entertainment value is high."
He actually smiles, quick and genuine. "I'm not here to be entertained. I'm here to assess and, if you want, to help."
"We want that," Ragon says. His scent curls firmer, possessive. "She's ours. We want her whole."
"I was speaking to Verena," Arden replies, still mild.
The subtle check makes Drake's mouth flicker. Jasper smothers a smirk.
Arden gestures toward the armchair across from me. "May I sit?"
"It's your consult. You can stand on your head if it helps."
He huffs quietly and takes the chair. "Let's start simple. How have you been sleeping?"
"In the chair. Badly."
"Not in your bed. Because...?"
"It doesn't feel safe. My nest's gone. The bed feels like a trap I forgot to set myself."
He nods slowly. "Do you feel any urge to rebuild? To rearrange, collect...?"
"No. The drive's gone. I look at blankets and feel tired, not comforted."
His gaze softens. He glances at Jasper like something he suspected just got confirmed. "How long has that been true?"
"Since the day at the zoo. After the correction."
Ragon's jaw tightens. Eli's fingers curl on the arm of the couch.
Arden keeps moving. "How's your appetite?"
"Fine. Functional. I eat when I remember."
"Any changes in your heats? Cycle irregularities? Intensity shifts?"
I feel my cheeks heat a little, but his tone is clinical. I frown, realizing something. "I... should be having one now, actually. I'm well overdue. No pre-heat symptoms. No temperature spikes. Nothing. I usually have one twice a year, sometimes three, but it's been about ten months now. I think."
His brows pull together. "Any nightmares?"
"Sometimes. Not about the gorillas. About the nest."
Silence answers that. Marie's grip tightens on her mug.
Arden lets the quiet sit. "You're aware your scent has changed."
"I'm aware everyone is aware. I get a lot of confused sniffing."
He smiles faintly. "I am going to sniff, with your permission. Purely diagnostically."
"Knock yourself out."
He inhales, minimally. Not invading. Just tasting the air.
His eyes darken. "You're right," he murmurs, glancing at Jasper. "Baseline beta levels. Omega markers nearly flat. That's not hygiene. That's your system dialing itself down. Suppressing."
Ragon shifts. "She showers. She always has. That's not new."
Arden looks over, polite. "That's not what I'm talking about."
He turns back to me. "I'm going to ask some personal questions. You can tell me to stop at any time."
"Okay."
He doesn't lower his voice. "Do you still experience spontaneous arousal? Random spikes of wanting, cravings for touch, scent, weight?"
The old me would have combusted.
The current me just shakes my head. "No. Not really. I can remember what it felt like, but it's like remembering being drunk. All theoretical."
"Does anyone's scent comfort you? Even a little? Even alphas that aren't pack?"
I think of Eli in my doorway, of Drake in the garden, of Ragon in my bed, of Finn in his kitchen, of Chase at the gym.
"No. I can stand it. That's about it."
His jaw tics, barely.
"Any desire to cuddle? Curl up? Seek pack comfort?"
"No. I find ways to comfort myself. Or I go without."
"Do you feel unsafe with them?" He nods toward the alphas.
I consider. "I feel wary. Careful. Like they're large furniture I have to navigate around or they might fall over and crush me."
Drake looks sad. Marie looks offended; then guilty; then something stranger.
Arden exhales slowly, glancing once more at Jasper. "Okay. Thank you, Vee."
"Is it bad?" Drake blurts.
Arden doesn't answer him right away. His attention settles on me again. "Is it okay if we talk a little about what happened with your nest? You can tell me no."
I stare at him. At his steady eyes and his calm mouth.
"No one's asked me that."
"Then they should have."
My laugh is more exhale than sound. "We can talk about it. I'm not sure what good it'll do."
"Hearing your version always helps. Even if it's just for the record."
So I tell him.
Not every detail. But enough.
The gorilla railing. Marie's scream. Ragon's rage. His words: ending this once and for all. Eli and Jasper holding my arms. Watching my nest turn into a theater. The smell. The ban.
Arden doesn't interrupt. His jaw gets tighter with each sentence. Jasper's knuckles are white. Eli looks like he might be sick.
Ragon's scent grows thicker, stormier, but he doesn't stop me.
"...and then they left. Door closed. No one came back. I stripped the nest and threw it out." I shrug, small. "Haven't had the urge to build another since."
For a long moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the fridge.
Arden leans back. When he speaks, his voice is still mild. It's more dangerous that way.
"Thank you. Now I have questions for all of you."
Ragon straightens. "We can take this into my office. No need to drag her through—"
"No. There is every need. We are talking about her trauma in her house. She deserves to hear every word."
His tone isn't aggressive. It's worse: unyielding.
Ragon's eyes flash. "We didn't bring you here to undermine—"
"You brought me here to evaluate harm. I can't do that if you insist on reenacting the pattern that caused it. We don't talk around omegas about their own injuries like they're not there. That's day one ethics. Omegas are people, not property."
Jasper makes a small satisfied sound. Drake presses his lips together. Eli's shoulders relax a millimeter.
Marie looks like she wants the sofa to swallow her.
Arden turns to Ragon fully. "Tell me, in your own words, what you did that night."
Ragon's jaw works. "I already told you in the email."
"Tell me again. So we're all working from the same story."
Ragon's gaze slides to me. For the first time, he looks unsure. A crack in the stone.
"I disciplined my omega. She endangered another member of our pack. I needed to make sure she understood that kind of jealousy would not be tolerated."
"And you chose to do that by..."
Ragon's mouth flattens. "By showing her the reality of our bonds. In her nest. Where she couldn't pretend it was something it's not."
"Be specific. You took her to her nest. Then what?"
Ragon grits his teeth. "I had sex with my scent match. In the nest. In front of her. And I instructed the others not to comfort her afterward so the lesson would sink in."
The room feels like it loses air.
Arden doesn't raise his voice. His anger still shows up anyway, sharp and clean.
"You 'had sex with your scent match in her nest.' In front of her. And then banned all comfort."
"Yes. I didn't lay a hand on her. I didn't beat her. I didn't lock her in a cage. I showed her—"
"You weaponized her nest," Arden cuts in, finally letting steel into his tone.
"You turned the one space biologically wired to be her safest into a punishment theater.
Then you instituted an isolation protocol.
That is not discipline, Alpha Ragon. That is a violation.
That is trauma. You confirmed her deepest fears by choosing your scent match over her safety.
You showed her exactly what she dreaded most. After that, what option did she have but to emotionally withdraw?
Her instincts have gone underground, seeking shelter in absence.
The part of her that reaches for connection has learned that reaching ends in pain, so it's stopped reaching at all.
She's teaching herself not to need what hurt her. "
"Watch it," Ragon growls, sitting forward.
"No. You watch yourself."
He looks around the room. "Omegas are neurologically wired to associate their nest with safety.
It's not just a pile of blankets. It's a physical extension of their nervous system.
You take that space and flood it with threat, with humiliation, with denied comfort, you are rewiring that system to say 'nowhere is safe. '"
He gestures toward me. "Her scent suppression. Her lack of nesting drive. The way she avoids your beds, your bodies, your attention. This is textbook shutdown after nest abuse."
The word abuse slices the air clean in half.
Marie whispers, "I didn't— I thought—"