Chapter Six
Odette
My abs hurt from laughing so hard, an ache I welcomed like an old friend I hadn’t seen in far too long.
I leaned back slightly in the booth, letting the easy noise of the diner buzz around me, my smile lingering even after the jokes died down.
Across the room, over Ravik’s broad shoulder, I caught sight of Henry sitting at the counter, sipping a cup of black coffee and watching us with a small, satisfied smile.
The sight hit me hard. This man, who had been a constant through every storm, was still there, still keeping watch, even now, when I was surrounded by alphas who were quickly starting to feel like gravity itself.
My chest tightened with gratitude so sharp it almost made me dizzy.
I’m so lucky, I thought, swallowing thickly around the lump that rose in my throat.
Lucky to have him after everything I went through.
Trying to shake off the sudden swirl of emotions, I popped a fry into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully as I scanned the table, thinking about a new question to ask.
The banter was light, the energy infectious, but even under the laughter and teasing, I could see more now.
Layers.
Truths they weren’t hiding but also weren’t pushing at me, letting me find them in my own time.
Micha sat relaxed, an easy grin on his face as he listened to Haze argue dramatically with Salem. He was the anchor, the leader without needing to demand it. Serious when it mattered, but easy to lean into in calmer moments. Solid. Steady. Safe.
Ravik, sitting across from me, was like a fortress.
Quiet, observant, every move deliberate.
He didn’t say much, but when he did, you listened.
The strength in their pack wasn’t just in his fists or his sheer size.
It was in the way he saw everything. The way he waited.
Ready to step between us and anything that even thought about being a threat.
Salem, calm and composed, leaned back with his arms crossed loosely over his chest, his gray eyes half-lidded as he watched the chaos unfold with quiet amusement.
He gave off this easygoing vibe, like nothing could rattle him.
But there was something in his eyes, a flash of something wounded, something familiar, that made my heart ache.
I recognized that look. It lived in my mirror most days.
And then there was Haze.
Oh, Haze.
He was bouncing slightly in his seat, face animated, hands flying everywhere as he tried to defend his ridiculous answer to the latest question (“Yes, I could survive in the wild by befriending raccoons, thank you very much!”).
He was chaotic energy wrapped up in a crooked smile and golden laughter.
But behind the gleam of humor and the silly bravado, I saw the sharp flash of something a little darker.
Something feral.
Like me, he wore his craziness where it couldn’t be so easily seen... unless you knew how to look. “You’re my favorite right now,” I teased, grinning shamelessly as I nudged Haze with my shoulder. The reaction was immediate, making me laugh.
“Hey!” Micha protested, clutching his chest like I’d wounded him. “I want to be your favorite!”
Ravik made a low, rumbling noise that might have been a protest if it didn’t sound so much like a challenge.
Salem just raised an eyebrow, sipping his coffee in mock offense. “I see how it is.”
I leaned in conspiratorially, lowering my voice to a stage whisper. “You never know when it’ll change.”
Haze beamed, preening like I’d handed him a crown, while the others groaned in exaggerated betrayal.
I started giggling again, helpless to stop it, feeling the tension that lived in my bones loosen just a little more. For once, laughter didn’t feel dangerous, didn’t feel stolen or wrong. It felt like I was finally breathing.
The laughter slowly ebbed into a softer hum, the kind that buzzed warm under your skin and made you feel like you belonged somewhere without even trying.
I twisted my fingers lightly in the hem of my crop top, nerves prickling faintly at the edges of the happiness.
I didn’t want this moment to just slip away into memory.
I wanted to know them.
Not just the easy, shiny parts.
The quiet corners, too.
The pieces they didn’t flash like weapons or shields.
So I cleared my throat lightly, glancing around the booth with a small, half-nervous smile.
They stilled almost immediately, as if they could feel the shift in my energy, every one of them focusing on me without hesitation or impatience.
It was slightly unnerving to be the center of their attention.
“I have another question,” I said, my voice softer now.
Micha leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his molten gold eyes steady and encouraging. Ravik simply watched me, calm and unmoving, but there was a sharpness to his gaze now. Salem gave me a slight, easy nod.
Haze drummed his fingers lightly against the tabletop, practically vibrating with excitement.“You can ask us anything, sunshine,” Haze said, grinning lopsidedly. “No limits.”
That made me smile, a little steadier this time. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and took a breath. “What’s something... you’ve never told anyone else?” I asked, watching them carefully. “Something small. Or silly. Or just... something that’s yours.”
There was a beat of stillness, a flicker of surprise across their faces. And then, to my amazement, they started answering like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Salem went first, as calm as ever, but there was a glint of something warmer in his eyes.
“I love reading trashy romance novels,” he said without a hint of shame.
“The ones with the ridiculous covers and the even worse plot twists. Keeps my head quiet when it’s too loud in here.
” He tapped the side of his head lightly, the gesture so casual it almost broke my heart.
I grinned, picturing him stretched out somewhere quiet with a paperback full of dramatic declarations and bodice ripping. Gods, he was adorable.
Micha chuckled, running a hand through his short, dark hair. “I watch terrible crime dramas,” he admitted. “The ones where the forensics are all wrong and the detectives somehow solve a case with a hunch and no evidence.” He shook his head, smiling at himself. “Drives me crazy, but I can’t stop.”
I laughed, the sound bursting free before I could help it. “That’s so specific,” I teased.
He shrugged, easy and unbothered. “It’s comforting in a weird way. Knowing exactly what’s going to happen.”
Ravik looked reluctant for half a second, but then he met my gaze, shoulders loosening slightly.
“I bake,” he said, his voice so low I almost missed it.
“Mostly at night. When no one’s awake. Breads, pastries.
.. whatever’s complicated enough to keep my hands busy.
” He shifted slightly, almost self-conscious.
“Don’t really tell anyone. Thought it might ruin the whole ‘silent muscle’ thing.
” My heart squeezed so tight I thought it might break right there in my chest. Ravik, baking alone in the dark, chasing a quiet he couldn’t find anywhere else.
Gods, I wanted to gather him up and never let go.
Haze bounced slightly in his seat, clearly dying to share. “I have a karaoke playlist,” he said brightly, waggling his eyebrows. “Full of power ballads and embarrassing early-2000s hits. I am unreasonably good at singing terribly off-key.”
I laughed so hard I had to cover my mouth, my whole body shaking with the effort not to draw attention from the few other diners nearby. “You’re telling me,” I gasped between giggles, “you have theme songs?”
“Multiple,” he said proudly. “Organized by vibe. There’s ‘Sad Boy Hours, ’ ‘Accidentally Started a Bar Fight,’ and of course, ‘Drunken Wedding Crasher.’”
Salem groaned into his coffee. Micha just shook his head, smiling like he couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed. Ravik looked like he was seriously considering whether it was too late to disown him.
I sat back, breathless with laughter, my heart so full it felt like it might lift right out of my chest. They trusted me with pieces of themselves—their softness, their silliness, their secrets.
A piece of armor I hadn’t even realized I was still wearing cracked quietly down the middle. I twirled a fry between my fingers, grinning mischievously. “Next time, I’m making you prove the karaoke thing,” I said, pointing at Haze.
He saluted me with all the solemnity of a knight pledging himself to a queen. “My voice will bring you to tears, my sun. You just wait.”
“Probably for the wrong reasons,” Salem muttered, but the corner of his mouth curved up as he said it.
The booth filled again with warm, easy laughter like we had all the time in the world to tell each other everything. But like anything good in my life, the bubble of happiness bursts.
My phone chimes from my purse. I reach inside, digging for it while trying to arm wrestle Haze out of the way.
I finally got it out and unlocked my screen.
The message that pops up makes my numb fingers drop it.
My phone clatters on the table, getting their attention.
I can hear them calling my name, but my head swims, and suddenly I’m back in that basement.
It starts with the cold. Not the kind that prickles against your skin like winter air.
No, this is worse. This cold seeps in. Crawls beneath your flesh, coils around your ribs, burrows into your lungs like rot.
It’s heavy and relentless, like the weight of the world pressing down from the inside out.
The floor beneath me is wet. Concrete—cracked, uneven, stained with things I don’t want to name.
I can feel it soaking into my skin, the chill of it leeching what little warmth I have left.
My knees are bruised raw, folded awkwardly beneath me, muscles twitching with every shallow breath. Bare skin against stone.