Chapter 28 #2
Ragon's voice had been firm. Stay in the house. I'll check on you.
He hasn't.
Maybe he will later. Maybe he's too busy. Maybe he's pretending the problem can be handled by taking care of Marie and dealing with me afterward like an errand.
Afterward.
Like I'm something that can be scheduled.
Another moan slips down the hall and my stomach twists hard.
It's not Marie's fault that her body is doing what it's doing.
It's also not my fault that the sound of it makes me feel like I'm choking.
I stand abruptly, restless energy snapping through my limbs. My heart is pounding. My room feels too small. The whole house feels contaminated by that scent.
I pace once. Twice.
The window shows the neighbor's porch light in the dusk, warm and steady. Finn's place. The quiet house next door that has always felt like a pocket of air when mine becomes too heavy.
Ragon told me not to leave.
My hand trembles as I grab my hoodie off the bed.
I don't think. If I think, I'll stop. If I stop, I'll go back to sitting in my chair listening to sounds that make my chest feel like it's collapsing.
So I move.
I slip out of my room and into the hallway, keeping my steps light. The house is loud in all the wrong ways, but the noise is concentrated in one direction. No one comes out. No one calls my name.
I unlock the front door and step out into the cool evening air.
The quiet hits me like a wave.
I draw in a breath so deep it aches, filling my lungs with cold and night and the clean smell of wet grass.
I cross the lawn quickly, hood up, hands shoved into my pockets.
Finn's door opens before I can even knock properly.
He's there like he was waiting, his expression softening the moment he sees me.
"Vee," he says, and then he pulls me inside without hesitation, wrapping me in a hug that is all warmth and solid safety.
I freeze for a second—my body always freezes now, even when it's something good—then my shoulders sag and I let myself lean in.
Finn smells like clean soap and smoke, muted under blockers but still distinctly him. His arms tighten for a heartbeat, and the steadiness of it makes my eyes sting.
"Hey," he murmurs near my hair. "You're okay. Come on."
He guides me into the living room. This house feels different—less imposing, less sharp at the corners. Softer lighting. Softer furniture. A blanket already draped over the couch.
Malcolm is on the couch, elbows on his knees, looking up the moment I enter. Alex is nearby too, standing with his phone in hand. Both of them go still when they see me, attention snapping into place.
"Hey," Malcolm says gently.
Alex's gaze sweeps over me quickly. "You're out."
Finn closes the door behind me. "She came over."
There's a beat where no one says why.
I swallow hard and force my face into something neutral. "Hi. Sorry. I just—needed a minute."
Finn gestures toward the couch. "Sit. You want water? Tea? Anything?"
"I'm fine," I say automatically.
Malcolm's eyes narrow slightly—not unkind, just perceptive. "You're not fine."
My breath catches. "I'm—"
"Vee," Malcolm says, still gentle, "we can tell something's wrong."
The words should be simple. Comforting.
Instead they hit the crack in me like a hammer.
My throat tightens so fast I can't breathe properly. The pressure that's been building all day surges up at once, and before I can stop it, tears spill down my cheeks.
I clamp a hand over my mouth, mortified.
Finn is there immediately, guiding me down onto the couch, sitting close without crowding. "Hey, hey. It's alright."
I try to pull myself together. I wipe my face with my sleeve like a child and take a shaky breath.
But once it starts, it doesn't stop.
"It was the zoo," I choke out, the words tumbling over each other. "They—Chase came. He—he's an investigator. And he brought the footage."
Malcolm sits forward. Alex's posture sharpens.
"Footage," Finn repeats, voice careful.
I nod rapidly, tears still sliding. "They made us watch it. In the living room. Everyone was there and Marie—she—" My voice breaks. "She climbed over. She climbed over the railing and threw herself in."
Silence slams down.
Malcolm's face hardens, shock and anger flickering across his features. Finn's eyes widen, his mouth parting slightly. Alex's jaw clenches.
I wipe my face again, breathing hard. "And Ragon—he—he dragged me. He punished me for it. Like I did it."
My chest hurts. My voice shakes.
"He grabbed me like I was—like I was nothing. Like I was dangerous. Like I deserved it."
My words keep spewing out. I tell them everything through broken sighs and sobs. The punishment. The way Ragon looked at me like I was nothing as he ruined my nest. The fact that I don't want another nest now. That a part of me died that night.
Finn's hand slides to my shoulder, steady.
"And today," I whisper, "he saw it. He saw the video. He looked at me like he was horrified—like he finally understood."
My laugh comes out wrong, cracked and wet. "And then Marie went into heat right there. Right after. Like the universe was punishing me for thinking I might get one second of justice."
Malcolm's eyes flash. "And they all went to take care of her."
I nod, throat tight.
"He told the investigators to leave, and then they—" My voice drops, humiliation burning. "They disappeared into her room. All of them. And I'm just here. Again. Waiting. Listening."
The words come out sharp with hurt I didn't realize had teeth.
"I don't even know what I'm supposed to do with myself. I don't want a new pack. Chase told Ragon I might be re-placed. I don't want anyone. I just want to be left alone."
The room is quiet except for my sniffles.
Malcolm's expression softens. "Come here."
His arms open.
Something inside me breaks wider—not fear this time, but need. I hesitate for only a second before my body moves on its own, folding into him like gravity.
The moment his arms wrap around me, warmth floods through me, deep and immediate. Malcolm's chest rumbles with a low, soothing sound—his alpha purr, loud enough that it vibrates against my cheek.
My omega instincts—quiet, suppressed, starved—rear up like they've been waiting for permission.
They surge forward, hungry for comfort.
I make a small sound I don't recognize as my own and press closer, clinging to him as if he's the only solid thing left in the world.
"Easy," Malcolm murmurs, purring again. "You're safe."
Safe.
The word soothes me like a balm.
Finn shifts closer, stroking my hair carefully, fingers combing through the strands in slow, grounding passes. His touch is steady and familiar, like a promise.
Alex sits on the other side of me, close enough that his heat reaches me too, a silent presence that doesn't demand anything.
"There you go," Finn whispers. "Just breathe."
I do, shuddering.
The blockers make everything harder. My instincts keep trying to scent them, to map safety through smell, but it's like reaching for something with numb fingers.
"I—" I swallow. "I wish I could smell you."
The words slip out without permission.
Finn's hand pauses in my hair for a second, then resumes, gentle. Malcolm's purr deepens slightly, like approval.
Alex chuckles softly, the sound warm. "Soon enough."
I blink, confused by the casual certainty in his voice, but I'm too overwhelmed to chase it.
Malcolm shifts carefully, easing me upright just enough to look at my face. His eyes are serious. "Do you want water?"
I nod weakly.
He squeezes my shoulder and stands. The loss of his warmth makes my body protest, but Alex shifts closer automatically, allowing me to move into his lap instead. His chest is solid, heat radiating through his shirt.
Finn stays near, still stroking my hair, murmuring soft reassurances.
Malcolm heads into the kitchen with Finn following a second later.
I close my eyes, trying to breathe normally.
From the couch, I can just barely hear them in the kitchen.
Not words at first—just the hush of voices and the clink of a glass.
Then Finn's tone sharpens, angry and low.
"...can't believe they went that far," Malcolm whispers back, the words barely audible but loaded with disbelief.
Finn's answer is strained. "No one expected Ragon to act so cruelly."
My eyes open.
My heart stutters.
Malcolm's voice comes again, tighter now. "Maybe we made a mistake."
Mistake?
My stomach drops. I try to focus harder, but the words blur at the edges, too quiet to catch fully. My mind scrambles, trying to connect it to anything that makes sense.
A mistake in what?
Before I can twist it into something coherent, Alex's voice cuts in sharply from beside me, directed toward the kitchen.
"That's enough. Bring the drink."
Silence follows.
Finn and Malcolm return a moment later, expressions carefully neutral, Malcolm holding a glass of water.
He hands it to me. "Here."
I take it with trembling fingers and sip. I glance between them, confusion prickling, but Finn smiles gently and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear like nothing happened.
Too much has happened today.
I don't have the energy to peel apart whispered arguments and hidden meanings.
So I let it go.
I let myself curl back into Alex's chest as Malcolm sits again, close enough that his knee brushes mine. Finn settles nearby, his hand returning to my hair.
Their warmth surrounds me, cocooning me from the world.
My eyelids grow heavy.
The adrenaline that carried me here drains out all at once, leaving behind exhaustion so deep it feels like sinking.
Alex's arm shifts slightly, settling more firmly around my shoulders, secure but not trapping. Malcolm's purr starts again, low and steady, vibrating through the couch.
Finn hums quietly under his breath, a sound that isn't quite a purr but is soothing in its own way.
I breathe them in—blocked scents, warmth, the soft cadence of voices and steady touch—and my omega instincts quiet, satisfied for the first time all day.
Complacent.
The realization should scare me.
Instead, it feels like relief.
My cheek presses against Alex's chest. His heartbeat is slow and even beneath my ear. I let my body match it, breath syncing with the steady rise and fall.
The last thing I register before sleep takes me is Finn's hand on my hair, gentle as a promise, and Malcolm's purr vibrating through the space like a lullaby.
Then I drift off, wrapped in warmth that doesn't demand anything from me, my mind finally too tired to keep fighting.