Chapter 34
Ophelia
Why can't I move my mouth? Wait, that's not right. I stretch it open with effort, but it's slow and gummy, like my jaw muscles are filled with sand and glue.
My brain feels foggy. It takes a second, like climbing out of quicksand. Taking stock of my body, everything feels slow and sticky, even my eyelids, but eventually, they open.
Jackson comes into view first. Dave and… now I can't think of his name… and the other one… everything is still too slow.
"What happened?" I croak. "Water, I need water."
To my surprise, Jackson snaps his fingers, and one of the alphas scurries off.
"Where am I? What happened?" It's coming back in pieces. Bridgette… She was wearing a green dress. She said… something. I can't remember. Then the Olcenes were there.
I check my bond. It's like coming back online after a reboot, a little slow and sluggish. Disjointed. It's not like that when I wake up from sleep. Then I remember, "You drugged me."
Jackson's face is grim. He looks terrible—haunted, gaunt, tired, heavy gray bags beneath his eyes.
"Alma—"
"I'm not Alma. Alma's dead. Remember?" I shouldn't poke the unhinged psychopath, but I can't help it.
Jackson sighs, dragging a chair next to the couch I'm sitting on. Half-sitting, half-lying, as it takes a lot of effort to rearrange my body. At least I'm not restrained. My bond within lights up slowly, but I can feel Asher and Enzo. They're frantic and searching. They respond, but it's fuzzy. They know I'm alive; that's about it.
"How could I forget? It's all I think about. All day. Everyday."
Dave and Lenny, I remember now, take the seat on either side of me on the couch, carefully, tentatively, caressing my arms. I cringe and pull away. For some reason, they let me, but Lenny leans in closer and sniffs.
"She smelled better than you. Like lilacs. Fresh hydrangeas. My grandmother used to have these big hydrangea trees; I loved spending my summers outside, smelling the flowers in the breeze. That's how I knew she was the one. She smelled so good. Like home."
I pull away and snap, "And that's why you sent her away like yesterday's trash? Took her virginity and left her lying alone and cold on the floor?"
"It wasn't like that!" Jackson's roars. "We told her we wanted her but that we couldn't…" he searches frantically, eyes whipping back and forth, trying to find the words. It's almost like he's rewriting history in his mind.
That's why I'm here. They want a chance to fix what they broke.
"Jackson—"
The fourth pack member, Sven, hands me a glass of water. I eye the contents.
"It's safe," he reassures me.
Right… I take a small sip, the tiniest, and let the cold water sit on my tongue, waking my senses. It's not enough, but it's something. I don't dare drink anymore. Instead, I hold the cold glass between my hands, wrapping my fingers around the condensation.
"You couldn't what? Be with her publicly?"
"I wanted her!" Lenny shouts, but Dave argues, "You didn't even fight for her when Jackson said to leave her!"
"Enough!" Jackson stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the hard wood of the cabin floor.
"What am I doing here, Jackson? You know I'm not her. I'm not Alma… and I'm bonded. I have a pack."
He turns, his hand frozen in his hair, with a glare that could melt ice. "Your supposed pack doesn't care about you. They only half bonded you."
"Not all packs bond right aw—"
"It doesn't matter. I miss Alma. I barely had her, and I miss her so much I can't sleep or eat. I bring lilac perfume to the heat clinics, spray down omegas in the heat, and pretend they're her. It doesn't work. But then… then I saw you. Your picture. In the Rag. And I thought this is it. That's her, that's my Alma."
He's whispering now, pleading. Something tells me there's lilac perfume somewhere in this cabin. According to Fletcher, they should be banned from being with any omega, even at the clinics. They shouldn't have passed the vetting process.
Dave comes to a stand, "We can't stay here long. The freak will track her down; they'll find this place."
"We have time."
Dave looks like he wants to argue, but instead, nods once, turning to me again with that look of longing in his eyes. "I missed you, Alma."
Lenny reaches out and caresses a strand of hair falling from my perfect updo. The guys are never gonna let me live this down. And they won't let me out of their sight again, either. So, I need to save myself. I need to get out of this.
Jackson and Dave disappear into another room while Lenny talks to me like I'm Alma, with Sven watching on. Lenny asks what I think of the new season of Alpha Island and if I thought the pack should stay here in Arrow Cove or retire somewhere closer to the ocean because I always loved the ocean. He goes on and on, like we're catching up on old times.
"How did you know that?" I interrupt his musings.
"You wrote about it. You were so curious about the world. Remember, you said you wanted to try snorkeling—"
"Lenny, how did you know those things about Alma? You only knew her for an hour."
"Like he said," Sven provides, "she wrote about it." At least Sven is cognizant enough to realize I'm not Alma.
"Wanna see?" Lenny asks, lighting up beside me.
Do not leave the room with this lunatic, Ophelia. Don't do it. "Sure."
Lenny's face lights up like a golden retriever; my head wars between hating this man because of what he did to my sister—he abducted me—and yet, I can't help but feel bad for him. He's sick. I shouldn't follow him into another room, but I need to know what's happening. I need to understand.
Lenny grips my hand with a lover's caress and leads me out of the room. My system feels shaky, my limbs still recovering from whatever they drugged me with.
"Will you tell me where we are?"
"In the mountains," Sven supplies from behind me as he follows. "Further north. We bought this cabin a while ago. We needed a place to… get away. From the Hills, from everybody."
Lenny leads me down a narrow hall. The cabin is small, the wood floors creaking with each step. As Jackson mentioned, Enzo may have figured out they owned this property.
I need to stall or save myself, those are the only acceptable options, I cannot allow them to take me somewhere else or follow through with whatever insane plan Jackson's come up with.
"What is—" my words trail off when Lenny flips the light switch. I stand, frozen, taking the room in.
A low, haphazardly thrown-together nest sits in the center of the room surrounded by Alma. The scent of lilac alone is overpowering—manufactured as it is, it's close enough—but her picture is everywhere.
Abandoning my captors I float into the room, overwhelmed by the Alma of it all. My fingertips trace the photos on the wall, arranged less stalker-serial killer vibe, though I know that's exactly what this is, and more like a loving family, and this was her home. I'm taken aback by the sheer love and attention put into every frame, arranged like a gallery wall.
The curtains, the bed, even the lamp shade, and the unique leaf-like design of each fan blade overhead are all something she'd have chosen.
"How… I don't understand. How did you get all this?"
"We've missed you so much." I stiffen at how close Lenny is.
"We've studied her. I went back through her school pictures and things she posted online, like pictures and her diary. Maybe it's punishment, getting to know who she was only after she died," Sven says morosely.
I knew only half of this stuff; I didn't even know she had an online journal. Oh, Alma. Did I know you at all?
I keep walking, acutely aware of Lenny's proximity as he tails me. Printouts of diary posts, snapshots of her, with Red artfully cut out of the picture, her musings, and portraits from her ballet troupe. It's an homage to my sister, and I'm part horrified by the intensity of it all and part in awe at seeing how much I've missed, slapping me in the face with their devotion.
"I don't understand. Why did you… why did you treat her that way? If this was how you felt, how could you…" I can't even form the words. I can't fathom the wrongness of it all.
"It was years of OFA breeding, and everyone, our parents, and the faculty arranged matches based on political or financial benefit. It was a knee-jerk reaction once we realized who she was. You have to understand… I know what people must have thought, that we forced her. That we didn't care about her. That's not true. We were in awe of her. I fell for her instantly. She was right there with us."
Standing against the door with Dave beside him, Jackson gives me his speech as if he's been preparing for it for years.
"She was sixteen," I grind out.
"We had just turned nineteen. She was a month from her seventeenth birthday. I remember that Sven was the only one of us who thought of asking. We were all horny teenagers making bad decisions. But that's not why you're angry."
I was—very angry about it, actually. But omega biology, paired with Alma's flightiness and desire to pack up, made me see his version might be true. It doesn't matter, though. "Why did you throw her away?"
Maybe that was the root of it, because it shaped and bled into my life, too. I never trusted high society after what they did. Maybe my life would have been easier. Maybe I'd still be fighting against the OFA's image of omegas, but it wouldn't have taken me to age twenty-six to find my pack.
"It wasn't… we didn't mean to. It was impulsive, and we were young and fucking stupid. If I could change it, I would. God, if we could go back. Do you have any idea what it's like? We met her; our scent-match! Our fated mate, and then she died. This, this feeling inside me…" Jackson thumps his chest aggressively.
"Us," Dave corrects. "We don't sleep. We barely function. Life is meaningless without her." His distant gaze focuses on me, so I change the subject.
"What happened? After. After you rejected her, after you took her virginity, after you broke her heart. What happened after?"
"We knew right away we couldn't let her leave. My parents, you have to understand, paid a lot of money for us to be there and covered all of our fees. They expected us to pay them back; we spent the whole night meeting the top candidates."
God, I want to vomit. Like the omegas are nothing more than cattle. I try to keep my expression neutral, but the anger and betrayal burn my stomach, that they could do that to her. I remember the hurt in Alma's voice, her broken tears.
"But it didn't matter after Alma. Our alphas refused to let us go any further the second we left. We went back for her, but she was already gone. Her parents, your dad—" Jackson nods toward me, "he was livid. I know we pushed the story that he was drunk, and maybe he had a few, but he wasn't, he was just pissed. Took a swing at me, but he was old. Messy. Missed by a mile."
The fucking tool smiles faintly as if the memory of my father defending Alma was sweet.
"We argued, Alma told us to fuck off. They got in their car and left. We grabbed our car so we could chase after her. We figured she'd have had time to cool off and by the time she made it home she'd forgive us. Or start to."
"I know we weren't bonded," Sven adds quietly, so far the most sane of the four brothers. "But I felt her fear. I don't know if it was an animal or what, but your dad lost control of the car. In the mountains, at night, the roads are twisting and dark. They crashed. I felt it."
"It was an accident. We had nothing to do with it," Jackson assures me.
"Forgive me if you've lost credibility. You have abducted me, after all."
"We didn't mean to scare you," Dave adds.
"So… all this was just to make me hear you out?" Seems too elaborate, working with Bridgette, drugging me, just for that.
Lenny, who's been hovering at my back, leans close. A second later, I feel a cold spray on my neck, followed by the strong scent of lilacs. Lenny leans in again, closer. "Mmhm, that's better."
An involuntary shiver runs down my spine. I've been calm. Maybe it was the after-effects of the drug, but somehow, I've been calm. But if my situation was precarious before, now it feels imminently dangerous.
The four alphas look at me like I'm their salvation.
"That's the thing, Alma," Lenny whispers from behind my shoulder. "All this was to get you back. And you smell so good."
I look at the other three, shaking my head and chanting "No," but none contradict Lenny.
"We should take off. The Constantines will probably find us soon." Jackson states pragmatically, glancing at his watch.
"Where are you taking me? You can't just steal me; I'm not a toy. I'm not yours."
"You are ours, Alma. And when we bond you, we'll be yours too."
"I'm already bonded," I whisper.
"It'll fade. With time."
There's nowhere to go. I'm trapped in this room. Stall. Stall, Ophelia!
"Alma wouldn't want this."
"We'll do better this time. We'll do it right. We'll take our time, court you properly. We just need to get you out of here."
Fingertips brush my bare shoulder—why did I have to wear this stupid dress!?—and I flip around, out of reach, only to stare into the eyes of the now feral alpha. Lenny's eyes are black, fully dilated. His breathing heavies, mouth open, his teeth look like they've grown, and a growl emanates from deep within.
I take a careful step back. Someone mutters a curse. I am so fucked.
Lenny's growl grows more intense, and the moment he loses himself to the baser instincts of the alpha, Sven tackles him. The guys are shouting, and I get knocked down in the foray, but it takes me only a split second to realize this is my chance.
I bolt for the door. Dave and Sven are holding down Lenny, but Jackson chases after me. Barefoot, I dart for the trees, up the mountain.
"Alma!" Jackson screams after me. I don't stop, not when I stumble, not when branches whip me on the arms and across my face. I barely feel the sting, the adrenaline pumping so fast in my body.
I run like my life depends on it. "Alma! Get back here!" Jackson's scream cracks with desperation. "Alma, stop running!".
I falter but shake off the alpha bark, maybe because he called me Alma, not Ophelia. I step on something, a branch or a rock, something sharp, and it makes me cry out. Frantically, I search around for any direction to go, but it's too dark. There's nothing but trees and branches and darkness. I'm going to get lost up here on the mountain. With effort, I start running again, zig-zagging through the trees, but I'm slowing to a limp from the cut on my foot, and I can't catch my breath.
Whimpering, terrified, I don't know what to do. It takes so much effort not to panic. Picking a direction, I take off, but then a big body tackles me, and I scream, crying out, "Stop! Stop! No!"
Then I'm hit with sandalwood and cedar and the reassuring purr, "I've got you, Ophelia. It's me, it's Sully. You're safe now. I've got you."
He rocks me in his arms as I scream and cry and shake, all the adrenaline from the kidnapping, the scene with Lenny and the chase through the woods catching up to me. We hear Jackson approach, but Sully doesn't let go.
"She's mine, Constantine. Put her down."
Sully kisses my temple, then loosens his hold. I panic that he's letting go, but he whispers, "You're safe, Ophelia, I promise. But, we need to end this."
Reluctantly, I let my iron grip on his wrinkled, dirty tux release, and he stands, turning to face Jackson Olcene.
Side by side there's no competition. Jackson has the sullen, weak pallor of a man on a bender. Sully's rage for me, his fear and worry, the support of his brothers through their pack bond stand with him.
Jackson throws the first punch, but Sully easily deflects, locking an arm around his neck and shoving him to the ground, kicking out his knee. Jackson collapses, and I'm grateful it doesn't drag out. With one brutal blow, Sully knocks Jackson unconscious.
Before Jackson's head even hits the ground, I'm back in Sully's arms. Faint and distant shouting pull us apart, but not completely.
"What are you going to do with him?" I ask, nudging Jackson's prone shoulder with my bare foot.
Asher bursts through the clearing a second later. He's even more disheveled than Sully, his knuckles bloody and raw. "Ophelia!" He screams, slamming into me, whipping me up into his arms. I squeal but hug him back, as though it had been days, months, since I'd seen him last, not hours.
Without letting go, he inspects every inch of me, growling and snapping at every cut he finds. "It's from running, they didn't hurt me. I mean, they drugged me and kidnapped me, but they didn't… it wasn't worse than that."
"So all of your injuries are self-sustained," Sully deadpans. It's such a dry delivery; I burst out laughing, shoving his shoulder.
"Yes! Okay? I'm a clumsy runner, too. Whatever, you try running barefoot through the woods with a feral alpha chasing after you."
Sully's levity disappears in the wind with the reminder. After some arguing, Asher happily sweeps me up while Sully throws Jackson over his shoulder like a sack of flour, and we head back down the mountain.
I'm surprised at how far I ran when it takes us almost twenty minutes to return. Sully carries Jackson, who isn't a small guy, as if he weighs nothing. My mate's energy is wired and intense as they catch me up on what happened when I disappeared.
When we get to the bottom of the hill, we barely crest the clearing of the woods before Enzo is there, ripping me out of Asher's arms. "Be gentle!" Sully snaps, but his grip doesn't lessen.
He doesn't speak, but I can feel him through the bond. His hold on me is shaking and punishing. Vibrating with his love and fear, down the thick strength of our bond, he doesn't need words to show me how he feels. I hug him back and try to soothe him, telling him I'm okay, I'm alive.
He only relents when I make him because I have one more mate to comfort. I finally take in the scene around me when I climb out of Enzo's arms.
Enzo's covered in blood. Sullys dropped Jackson in what appears to be a pile of half-groaning, half-deadly silent Olcenes.
Standing with feet planted wide beside them, Theo has his hands on his hips and a wild look in his eyes. His blue eyes seem darkened, and his typical lazy smile is nowhere to be seen. I step forward—Enzo clutching my arm but not holding me back—and approach Theo cautiously.
"Are you okay?"
His unblinking stare follows me as I walk, until I'm standing in front of him, his eyes never leaving mine. Only when Enzo releases his grip, and I bring my hands up to Theo's face, does he snap out of his trance.
"He was feral," Theo's voice is grainy.
"Lenny?"
He nods toward the pile. "All of them."
"Are they…" I look over but can't determine for myself. I'm almost afraid to ask. "Are they alive?"
"They'll live. They'll wish they didn't."
Theo's terrifying gaze zeros in on the pile again, so I leap forward and wrap my arms around him. He's stiff, but after a few breaths, he relaxes around me, breathing me in.
The flashing of police cars arrives while we hug, and Sully takes charge. Everyone insists I go to the hospital, against my wishes, and the cops inform me they'll take my statement there.
Before we make it to the SUV, a familiar red truck bounces up the dirt road at a pace best reserved for a racetrack and then skids to a stop.
"Ophelia!" Red's tearing out of the truck before it even parks, and I jump into his arms. Iggy looks around, his stoic expression hinting he'd like to have joined the violent foray, as he cracks his knuckles and goes to speak with Theo.
"What in the hell happened, Phe?" He asks, hands roaming over my face, neck and shoulders, confirming I'm in one piece.
"Red… they have this shrine built for Alma. They wanted me to be her."
A groan from the pile draws our attention and I stiffen in Red's arms when Jackson warily sits up. Red growls, but then Iggy is there, clutching him by the collar, throwing his fist into his face. The cops pull Iggy off, but not before he kicks Jackson, knocking him unconscious again.
Red's voice is tight when he asks, "Is it over now? With them?"
"Yeah. I think so." I tell Red not to go inside, but he doesn't listen.
"So fuckin' glad you're okay, kid. Holy shit that took ten years off my life." I kiss Cass's cheek, and he squeezes me in a hug.
"You're too pretty to die early," I tease.
"Ain't that the truth."
"Alright, we need to get you to the hospital." My mouth opens to argue, but Asher interjects, "No arguing."
"Ha! Good luck with that. This one's the Queen of Contrary." I smack Cass's shoulder but admit defeat. My foot does kinda hurt, and though it likely just needs cleaning and a bandaid, I want this night to be over, so I climb into the SUV. My alphas arrange with Dante Pack for what feels like visitation rights with me, but I ignore them all and fall asleep before we're even back on the road.