End
I woke up buried beneath fabric—hoodies, blankets, and pillows I’d dragged onto the bed while the heat drove me wild.
I’d built my first nest, their scents comforted me, but as my eyes cracked open, the fever was gone.
The agonizing ache had been sated, replaced by the soreness of being claimed by my Alphas.
I was physically drained, my limbs were heavy, my pussy sore, but the storm had cleared and my mind was sharp. My Alphas had helped me through my heat despite the pain I’d caused. I needed to make things right.
Movement at the edge of the room drew my gaze.
They were here. They hadn’t left me after my heat had broken.
The three of them were scattered like guards at the edge of my nest. Dane sat in the chair by the bed shirtless, his muscular body kissed by the morning light, his shorts low on his waist; Kade was leaning against the dresser, his arms crossed over his bare chest, sweats hugging his hips; and Uriel was at the foot of the bed, in nothing but briefs, his shoulders lax, his eyes dazed.
For a few heartbeats, the silence was a safe haven. No one moved. No one spoke.
“Vera,” Dane’s voice was low, cutting through the short-lived peace. He didn’t move toward me, didn’t offer a hand, just stared. Kade straightened, his hazel eyes on me as he stepped toward the nest. Uriel jerked up, a smile on his lips as he stared at me.
“Wakey, wakey.” Uriel was the first to greet me. He stretched, his muscles flexing as he yawned. “How’re you feeling?”
“Morning. I feel… surprisingly good,” I murmured, pushing a crazy strand behind my ear.
My phone. I hadn’t looked at it in–how long?
I reached for the nightstand where Dane had placed it, my fingers clumsy as I powered it on. The screen lit up, and my stomach dropped.
There were 47 missed calls from my Mother and even more text messages. I scrolled through them, my chest tightening with each one:
Mother: Where are you?
Mother: Vera, answer me right now.
Mother. This is unacceptable. Come home immediately.
Mother: If you’re not home by morning, consider yourself dead to me.
That was the last text message.
I exhaled slowly, my thumb hovering over the screen.
It hurt, and I wanted to cry, but I knew a long time ago.
She never loved me. I blocked her number.
There was another message from Ami, saying she needed an update, and proof of life.
I smiled, a tear trailing down my cheek.
I typed out a quick, ‘SOON’, and swiped it away before setting the phone back down.
“Everything okay?” Uriel asked, his voice cutting through the silence.
I looked up. He was watching me, a worried look in his eyes.
“It is now,” I murmured.
“It’s time.” Dane’s words were jarring, a reminder we weren’t one-hundred percent okay. He stood, and Uriel moved toward me, offering me his arm. I got up and Kade helped me into a charcoal long-sleeve shirt that fell mid-thigh.
Dane got up and walked out first. My legs were shaky, but Kade’s hand was a firm weight on the small of my back, as they guided me out. Their scents grounded my frayed nerves.
We passed the kitchen and went into a part of the house I’d never seen to a door that led to concrete steps.
The air grew colder the deeper we descended.
The scents hit me like a brick wall: iron, stale sweat, and rot that didn’t belong.
The basement was dimly lit, the single bulb lighting a small portion of the room, but it was the man on the floor before Dane that held my attention.
Dread filled my chest as my body broke into a cold sweat. My fingers trembled as my arms shook.
“You have nothing to fear,” Kade murmured into my ear, his voice devoid of the usual playfulness. He stepped forward to stand beside Dane, leaving me with Uriel.
I froze. My breath hitched, my throat dry. He wasn’t just some random man. I’d recognize him anywhere.
Amos.
Or what was left of him. There was no way of counting the number of cuts on his chest, arms, and abdomen. That took determination. He lifted his head, his eyes darting from Dane to Kade. They widened, and for the first time in the entirety of knowing him, I saw fear in his eyes.
The man who had spent years telling me I was nothing, reducing me to a shell of my former self until I believed it, was a bloody, battered mess. Seeing him like this, broken, powerless, caged, was shocking. It rewired my brain chemistry.
While I feared the shadows in the place I’d called home, my Alphas had caged my nightmare. The man behind my fears, the nights where I’d lost sleep, looked weak. I stepped forward, releasing Uriel’s arm, my bare feet cold against the concrete. But my ex still hadn’t noticed me.
“Amos,” I choked.
He twitched, inhaling as he lifted his nose. The one eye that wasn’t swollen found me. Up close, he didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a dying animal. The man who had destroyed my self-worth and abused my trust didn’t compare to the men in this room.
I must be crazy because instead of crying and begging them to let him go, I reveled in it.
The man who had beat, choked, and raped me was the one in pain now.
Emotion bubbled up in my throat as tears blurred my vision.
A dark, primal satisfaction sent goosebumps breaking out over my arms, drowning out the broken woman who used to flinch at the sound of his steps.
Dane watched me, his expression unreadable, but his scent was heavy, dominating, and comforting in the suffocating pressure of Amos’ scent.
He didn’t ask anything, he didn’t have to.
He stepped to the side, opening the space between me and my ex, forcing me to look at the blood they’d spilled for my sake.
Dane didn’t move, but I felt his gaze shift from my ex to me. He was waiting. A tremble worked its way through my body. He was giving me the power, the choice to stop it or okay it. I demanded it.
I could see it–every way this could unfold.
The hurt, battered woman he’d torn apart knew exactly how I wanted to make it hurt.
I could make it last for hours. Every slice, every broken bone, every scream he’d earned.
I could taste the satisfaction I’d draw from it, the justice of making him suffer the way he’d made me suffer for years.
But the new me, the healed, loved Omega didn’t want that. Not anymore.
The silence stretched. Amos’ hate-filled gaze locked on me. The scent of my Alphas filled my lungs, and I felt the lingering slick of them between my thighs—a physical reminder of who I belonged to now. The corner of his lips curled, understanding dawned.
“Kefe. You?” he shook his head, laughing. A final fuck you—his last attempt to hurt me. It was a choked sound. He hated it. He hated me, and his lack of control. I knew him so fucking well. Dane kept his eyes on me as he walked behind Amos.
I nodded.
Dane’s eyes held mine for a beat. Then his eyes moved with the precision of a soldier who’d done this before. The crack echoed in the concrete chamber, sharp and final.
Amos slumped to the floor, his head slapping against concrete.
The execution was swift. There was no grand speech, no slow death.
This wasn’t about revenge; it was about removal.
It was the end of a life, a book that couldn’t be reopened.
My Alphas gave me safety, but it was more than that. It was freedom.
He no longer breathed the same air as me. He didn’t walk beneath the same sky. He was gone.
The monster was dead, and I was free.
I trembled uncontrollably as Dane and I stared at each other as Kade walked over and kicked Amos.
Uriel stood beside me. His jaw locked so tight I could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.
His hands had curled into fists at his side, and his scent—usually warm vanilla and sandalwood—had gone bitter, like burnt sugar.
We never talked about him, but he was angry in my stead. When I glanced at him, his jaw was set, his eyes hard on Amos’ body. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. I felt him exhale slowly beside me, a long deliberate breath. Accepting.
“I’m going to be gone, but I should be back later tonight, if not tomorrow,” Dane said, my gaze returned to him. He was talking to Kade, but his eyes were still on me. “Keep her safe.” Then he stepped over the body, his movements rigid. He walked out without another word.