Chapter 5 #2
I grab a few bags from the trunk and hurry after them, not wanting to miss a moment of her happiness. There’s something about the way her eyes light up that heals me.
Giggles flow from the sitting room off the foyer. The entryway is dark and moody with a small hanging light fixture at the center, towering plants in each corner, and deep, patterned brown wallpaper. To our left, a large, wrought iron staircase leads upstairs.
I lean against the open doorway into the sitting room. What was once a sunshine yellow tearoom is now a jewel-toned haven with a large fireplace as the centerpiece. Skye coos, finding a cushioned bench tucked between two large bookshelves. Out the window is a stunning view of the front garden.
Her love for nature is written in every aspect of this house, from the sprawling garden out back to the plants that breathe life into each room.
“They finished the kitchen,” Q tells me as he steps to my side, his eyes glued on our Omega and his fingers tapping the wall. Pleasure filters through his bond with her, faint since we don’t share a bond.
Curious what he did with my space, I let them explore and head further into the house. An airy dining room sits off the foyer, decorated in greens and dark wood.
I whistle when I take in the high-end appliances and windows that now line the ceiling at the furthest end of my kitchen, letting beams of natural light fill the space. It’s all mixed woods and dark metals, playing into the aesthetic without sacrificing quality or space.
“Woah,” Skye whispers, tucking herself against my side. “He built you a mini herb rack.” She points to the large, round window above the sink, which is lined with planters.
“Of course he did.”
Quentin is a badass at anticipating our wants and needs. All of us, not just Skye. At first, it was unnerving, but eventually, I grew to love and appreciate how much attention he pays to our bonds and feelings. He’s a damn good packmate.
The man himself appears and pushes a door open beyond the fridge. “There’s a walk-in pantry here, though it is empty at the moment.”
“Holy shit, Q.” Bellamy saunters in from the living room, his eyes wide. “You outdid yourself this time, man.”
Quentin gives him an exaggerated half-bow. “I do live to serve.” His expression sobers as he meets each of our eyes. “I hope this will one day be our home. Permanently.”
Skye sucks in a sharp breath, her body vibrating against mine. Hope fills her bond with enough strength to make my knees weak.
“But, what about LA? The label?”
Holding her tighter, I fight back a disapproving growl. Like we wouldn’t do whatever it takes to move here if that’s what she wants.
“Darling, the label won’t care where we live so long as we keep making them money. If they do, we can afford to cut our contracts. Not that it will come to that. The East Coast office is located here in Starburgh.”
Onyx stalks by with his bag and mine, taking them through the living room to our bedroom. I press a kiss to Skye’s head and leave her to talk with Quentin. He’ll have to convince her it’s okay to want to move here. A task only he can accomplish without her drowning in misplaced guilt.
Floor to ceiling windows cover the rounded wall of my bedroom, a massive hammock bed hanging in front of them, providing me the perfect place to write.
Dropping our bags, Onyx runs a hand over the dark red bedding, his shoulders relaxing now that we’re behind closed doors.
Instinct moves my feet until I’m plastered to his back, arms wrapped around his wide chest. “Talk to me.”
He’s been subdued since we learned Orbital Somatic’s manager was missing. During the drive here, a label exec called Quentin with an update that left us all reeling. One I know hit my mate harder than the rest of us.
The FCDA believes a breeding ring here on the East Coast kidnapped her. They’re abhorrent organizations rooted in human trafficking and aiming to create more Omegas they can sell to the highest bidder.
“Kocruz.”
Of course. Kocruz Hills is an isolated community in western Iowa where fucked-up shit happens daily. Like many places in the darkest parts of the country, it’s home to an anti-designation cult.
And it’s where we grew up.
“What’s happening to that manager… this is shit he would do.”
Onyx doesn’t have to explain who he is, because there’s only one person it could be: Nathaniel Calbroh.
His father. The leader of the Kocruz cult.
A deranged man who gets off on other people’s misery.
He hates Alphas and Omegas so much that he manipulated the entire town into participating in a ‘breeding program’ he promised them would push non-Beta designation genes out of their bloodlines.
The thing was, this ‘program’ wasn’t optional. Married, single, barely-legal, every woman in that hellhole was forcefully bred to further his agenda.
Onyx’s mother bore the brunt of his father’s derangement, suffering brutal beatings each time she failed to conceive after he raped her.
The abuse his mother faced was the first nail that sealed Nathaniel’s coffin.
“We did what we could. We got out,” I remind X, burying my face between his shoulder blades.
Anger still burns hot in my stomach each time I remember the events that led to our escape.
Calbroh took it upon himself to ensure the single women in town were meeting the breeding standards he set, visiting their homes and claiming they weren’t ‘doing their duty to purge the bloodline’ before he raped them.
His father’s poor timing led to me walking in as he tried to force himself onto my mother. Onyx barely stopped me from killing the bastard.
My mother wasn’t Calbroh’s first victim, but we made sure she was his last. We fled with her that night. Stole a pack car and drove to Chicago with a trunk full of photographs and documents raided from his father’s office.
And we never looked back.
“Doesn’t mean someone like him isn’t behind this shit,” he growls. “Things never change. When will the rest of the country see the damage they’re causing?”