Chapter Twelve #3
The next words I say feel like acid. “It’s an omega fight ring.”
***
Flames roar hungrily, climbing the walls and swallowing the darkness as we stand in silence, watching the building burn. The heat is intense, licking at our faces and illuminating every line of exhaustion and fury etched into my pack’s expressions.
Beside me, Fox’s eyes reflect the firelight, his jaw set in a fierce, unyielding line.
Jex stands close, strong arms crossed over his chest, his usually calm demeanor edged with dangerous satisfaction.
Dare rests a gentle hand on the small of my back, quietly grounding me even as the inferno rages before us.
Fallon and her pack linger nearby, Kingston’s arm tightly wrapped around her shoulders. Voss stands rigidly, expression unreadable, while Romano and Jace murmur quietly, checking on the rescued omegas waiting safely in vehicles behind us.
I take a slow, deep breath, inhaling the scent of burning wood, smoke, and destruction. It feels symbolic—cleansing, even. Destroying this building isn’t just about erasing a horrible place; it’s about dismantling everything it represents. No more auctions. No more cages. At least not here.
“We got everything important from the office,” Fallon murmurs quietly, her eyes hard as she watches the flames climb higher, glass windows exploding from the heat. “Names, addresses, financial trails. That stack has enough paperwork to start dismantling their entire network.”
“Good,” I reply softly, my voice fierce despite the exhaustion settling deep in my bones. “It’s a start, at least.”
Fox reaches for my hand, his fingers threading gently through mine, offering comfort without words. I squeeze back tightly, silently thanking him for being my anchor amid the chaos.
After another long, heavy moment, Jex shifts, glancing toward me with a concerned expression. “We should go, Violet. Staying much longer is risky.”
I nod slowly, turning away from the burning building. Dare keeps his hand steady on my back as we walk toward the vehicles, but I pause briefly, glancing back one final time. The building is fully engulfed now, and its destruction is absolute.
“Let’s go home,” I whisper, knowing this isn’t the end. There is a fight coming whether we are ready or not.
Chapter Thirteen
Jex
June 10th
9:23 A.M
The sun’s just starting to spill through the curtains in lazy streaks, casting pale gold across Violet’s curls where her head rests on my chest. She’s awake—I can tell by the way her fingers absently trace slow, soothing circles on my stomach—but neither of us have spoken.
Not yet. There’s something nice about the silence. Easy. Real.
I shift slightly to press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in her lemon frosting scent, a little dulled from sleep but no less addictive.
She sighs against me, and her leg drapes more firmly across mine like she’s settling in deeper.
Mine. Our omega. And we’re finally getting a moment without a crisis breathing down our necks.
“You ever wonder how we ended up here?” I murmur after a while, voice still rough from sleep.
Violet lets out a soft, sleepy laugh. “You mean here as in ‘in my nest,’ or ‘in the middle of dismantling a trafficking empire’?”
I grin at the ceiling. “Both are wild, honestly. But I was thinking more about this. You and me. Pack. Home.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then nudges me gently. “You’re stalling. I can hear it in your voice. Spill, big guy.”
I snort. “That obvious?”
She hums, smug.
I stretch one arm over my head and exhale slowly.
“My parents were nomads—real wanderers. Never stayed in one place longer than six months. They used to say the Earth would speak to them when it was time to move on.” I roll my eyes.
“What that actually meant was they had no jobs, no structure, and no idea how to raise a kid who didn’t want to live out of a school bus painted with tie-dye suns. ”
Violet lifts her head just enough to glance up at me, her expression soft and curious. “So you moved around a lot?”
“Constantly,” I nod. “Desert one month, mountains the next. I didn’t even have a birth certificate until I was eight, and that was only because I got bit by a raccoon and needed shots.
” I smirk as she stifles a laugh. “I lived more in forests and backroads than actual neighborhoods. My parents were all about peace, love, and communal living—but it never felt stable. Never felt like home.”
“That sounds…” She hesitates, eyes flicking over my face. “Lonely.”
“Yeah,” I admit. “It was.”
She presses a soft kiss just over my heart, and I swear I feel it echo all the way through me.
“What about you?” I ask quietly. “You always feel rooted somewhere?”
Violet shifts, her cheek returning to my chest. “I grew up with my grandmother. My parents were... just never around. No letters, no calls. I don’t even have a picture of them.
My grandma raised me in this old creaky house with floral wallpaper and hummingbird feeders in every window.
She was stubborn and sarcastic and made the best grilled cheese in the world. ”
I smile, even though I can hear the ache creeping into her voice.
“She passed in her sleep a few years ago,” Violet adds softly. “Left me the house. It’s old, drafty, and kind of falling apart, but it’s mine. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really had that felt safe. Felt like mine.”
I pull her a little closer, a gentle squeeze that says I’m here, I hear you.
“I’m glad you had her,” I murmur. “She sounds like she would’ve terrified Fox.”
Violet snorts. “Oh, she would’ve made him cry.”
We fall into silence again, but this time it’s heavier—full of memories, losses, and the quiet realization that maybe we both grew up a little untethered… and found our anchor in each other.
“I don’t know much about staying,” I say softly, brushing a few strands of her hair off her cheek, “but I’m learning.”
She tilts her head just enough to meet my eyes, her fingers resting lightly against my chest. “You’re doing pretty damn good so far.”
I smile faintly, but there’s more I want to say—more she deserves to know.
“I didn’t really start to settle until I met Fox and Dare.
We were all dumped into the same unit when we joined the government program.
It was messy back then—classified missions, low survival rates, all that.
They gave us orders, and we got used to being weapons instead of people.
You didn’t make friends. You made exits. ”
Violet doesn’t say anything, just listens—really listens—and that alone does something to the tightness in my chest.
“Fox was the first to challenge that mindset,” I continue. “He said if we had to work together, we might as well stop pretending we weren’t already a pack. Dare didn’t say much about it—he never does—but he stuck around. The three of us just… started to move together.”
I stare up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to find the right words.
“We bought this house thinking we needed a central location. Somewhere to regroup. Sleep between missions. That’s all it ever was—a base. Temporary.”
I look back down at Violet, and there she is: tucked against me, soft and warm and real, her bright eyes watching me like she already knows what I’m about to say.
“But with you?” I whisper, my voice rough with the truth of it. “This is the first time I’ve felt like I’m not waiting for the next exit. You’re not just a place to rest. You feel like home, Vi.”
She blinks slowly, tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes—but her smile is radiant, and steady.
“Good,” she murmurs. “Because I’ve been looking for mine too.”
And just like that, I know I’ll never leave. Not unless she tells me to. And even then, it’d take all three of them to drag me away.
Violet’s fingers trail lightly along my jaw, her eyes locked on mine. That soft little smile curves her lips, but there’s something deeper behind it now—something tender and warm and so achingly open it nearly undoes me.
I lean in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wants to. She doesn’t. Her breath hitches as my mouth brushes over hers, soft and reverent at first—more a promise than a kiss.
Her hand slips into my hair, fingertips curling against my scalp as she kisses me back, slow and exploratory, like we have all the time in the world. And maybe we do. Maybe for once, there’s no rush. No mission. No deadline. Just her and me, and the soft morning light wrapping us in gold.
I shift slightly, cupping the side of her face with one hand, deepening the kiss with gentle pressure.
She sighs against my mouth, her body melting into mine, and I can feel the change.
That subtle tilt of her hips, the tension in her fingers, the heat sparking between us like kindling catching flame.
“Vi…” I murmur against her lips, letting her name linger there.
She doesn’t answer with words—kisses me again, bolder this time, more sure. Her leg hooks over mine, drawing our bodies closer, the thin layers of sleep clothes between us suddenly feeling like far too much.
My hand slides down to her waist, fingers tracing the curve of her hip as I kiss her slowly, thoroughly, like I’ve got something to prove. And maybe I do. Maybe I need her to feel it—to know that this isn’t just heat, it’s something deeper. Something permanent.
When I pull back just enough to look at her, she’s already watching me, lips kiss-swollen and eyes bright. “Gods you are so beautiful.”
I kiss her again—this time slower, deeper—and let myself fall, completely and without hesitation, into her.
I grip the waistband of her shorts and ease them down over her hips. She kicks them off without hesitation, then swings a leg over me, straddling my thighs. Her skin is warm, her eyes locked on mine with a teasing smile as the heat between her legs presses through my pants.