Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
Lana
Asteady beeping pulled me out of a dreamless sleep. My limbs felt heavy but functional, and the pain had subsided to a level that didn’t make me want to scream.
It took me a minute to force my eyes open. They were still gritty and crusted, like they were when I’d fallen asleep.
My nose twitched at the sterile smell. A gasp finally forced my eyes fully open.
“Lana.” Conrad’s voice was hoarse and relieved all at once. His hand wrapped around mine before I managed to shift my eyes to him. The relief on his face was palpable, and guilt settled in my chest for worrying him like this.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
Fury like I’d never seen overtook his features. “Lana, I need you to tell me very carefully why you were alone for an entire week while you went through a heat.”
Tears stung my eyes, and an excuse burned at the tip of my tongue, but there was one person in this world I could never lie to… and that was my brother.
“I called. They didn’t come.”
“You spoke to them and they still didn’t come?” he demanded. The horror on his face made my stomach churn. They used to be best friends growing up. He’d trusted them to take care of me. They didn’t just hurt me, they broke a lifelong friendship.
“They’d have to pay attention on the phone to actually hear me,” I said quietly. And once I started speaking, I couldn’t stop, the words spilling free as I explained the last four years, the last few spent watching my pack bonds slowly shrivel and die.
When I finally finished, I looked up at him, tears flowing freely now. I was clearly rehydrated enough for that. “The pack bond is dead. They didn’t even feel it. They weren’t there. I was alone.”
His hand wrapped around mine, holding tight. The fury was still there, but so was concern.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me things were getting this bad?”
“You have your own life. I didn’t want—”
“I swear to everything holy, if you’re about to say be a burden,” he warned. “I’m going to lose my goddamn mind. It’s taking every ounce of my self-control not to go beat them black and blue.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said firmly. “I’m not going back.”
He almost looked relieved to see the fire in me again. “I’ll be right back—”
He tried to drop my hand, but my fingers locked onto him, refusing to let go.
“No. I don’t want you to say a word to them.”
The look he gave me was pure shock. “What the fuck do you mean?”
“I need to see how long it takes them to notice that I’ve even left,” I said with a bitter laugh. “I waited all week for them to show up. It’s in our calendars. They know my heat schedule. I begged them to listen and they wouldn’t even make an effort. Now, I want to see just how shitty they are.”
“None of this is your fault,” he said firmly. “You were theirs to protect. Fuck, Lana… when’s the last time you actually saw them?”
I blinked back tears. “A couple of months.”
Disgust crossed his face. Who could blame him?
“I never should’ve stayed this long,” I admitted. “That house was empty, and they… they let hockey change them.”
I shook my head, fighting tears again. “The moment we moved to North Crossing, the excuses started. At first, it was catching up with the team, building bonds. I knew there’d be away games, but not for months at a time.”
The sheer alpha energy rolling off my brother would have had any omega ready to cower, but to mine, he was safe. Somehow, he kept any further opinions to himself, quietly seething as I processed everything.
“How long have I been in here?” I asked quietly, eyes darting to the chart on the wall to find answers.
“About a week,” he sighed. “If you hadn’t made it to that phone…” His voice broke then, eyes shining with tears. In those brown eyes that matched mine, I saw how much pain he’d been in.
I hated that I put him through this hell, that they put us through it.
“I took them off of your emergency contact list,” he said, as he sat heavily in the chair beside my bed, still holding onto my hand. “They were listed after Mom and our dads. Thankfully, our parents were the ones the staff called first.”
I let my head fall back against the pillow with a groan. “So that means they know?”
“Yes,” he admitted with a shrug. “I think it’s a miracle they didn’t call out your pack with the state you were in. Something like this could land someone in jail for omega neglect.”
“I’m not pressing charges,” I said again, just to make sure it was clear.
“I’m just leaving quietly. If I have my way, they’ll never hear from me again.
They paid the important bills. I’m cancelling my phone and putting myself on a new plan.
I don’t need them. I wanted them, and they proved I shouldn’t trust them. So now, I won’t.”
Conrad squeezed my hand. “You don’t need them, but you do need to recover. I want you to come stay with me. We’ve got a spare room at the hockey house. The guys will help me set it up. Your exes will never look for you there, and I don’t think you want to sit alone in our childhood home.”
I shuddered. “I think I’ve spent enough time alone to last a lifetime.” All I could picture were those empty halls and the resounding silence. I needed to find a pair of headphones to keep on me at all times. Even the steady beeping of my heart monitor was comforting at this point.
My hand was still clinging to his, and he thankfully didn’t let go. We were close, but we weren’t usually the hand-holding type. Still, my omega needed the contact as much as I needed the pain to stop.
“Your team is going to think I’m pathetic,” I whispered, hating how tragic I sounded.
“No,” he argued. The pure conviction in his voice calmed my nerves. “These guys are different.”
I looked away, staring at the bare trees outside the window. Winter had fully set in.
“Do we need to go pack up your house?” he asked gently after the silence stretched on a bit too long.
“I already started,” I admitted. “I planned to leave if they didn’t show up. But I don’t want to keep most of it. We can box up my clothes, put them on the curb, and call a charity. I don’t want anything that reminds me of them. It’s time to go home and start over.”
To most, I probably sounded angry, and in some ways I was. More than that, I just wanted to move on. I deserved to be surrounded by people who cared about me.
Family, at least, would never abandon me.
“I just can’t believe they changed this much,” I murmured. “They went from giving me the world to not even bothering to talk to me. They used to message me every day. Now, it’s silence. Hell, look at my phone, listen to the voicemails.”
He grabbed my phone a bit too quickly, and I watched his face carefully as he explored.
His jaw was tight, teeth grinding as his face flushed red.
His eyes narrowed into angry slits as he read our group chat.
I knew what it said already. Me checking in…
crickets. Them sending a message every once in a while that wasn’t even a conversation.
He would see all the missed calls from me and rare calls from them.
Before he could say anything else, a nurse and doctor bustled in. The doctor was older, gray-haired, with soft wrinkles around his eyes. He gave me a warm smile that I tried to return.
“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” he said as he held out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Dr. Michaels.”
“Thank you for taking care of me,” I said with a tight smile. In reality, I knew what was coming. Uncomfortable questions about why a bonded omega was found in the state I was.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“I spent the heat alone,” I said with a shrug. He softened at the challenge in my voice. Maybe he’d chalk me up to being a stubborn omega.
“Was someone responsible for seeing you through that heat?” he asked, not letting it go.
I looked at my brother, silently begging him to stay quiet. “No. My pack wasn’t aware.”
The doctor’s brows lifted. “Your pack wasn’t aware their omega was in heat?” My mouth was set in a firm line as I stared at him, giving nothing away.
Thankfully, he didn’t push. “There’s no reason to keep you here much longer.
The sedation has worn off, you’re hydrated, and your last labs were improving.
You’re out of the woods, just one last round of labs before I sign off.
We had to use a temporary feeding tube, but you’ll need to gain weight and eat hearty for a few weeks.
I’d also suggest a counselor. This wasn’t easy on you, and it can negatively impact your omega. ”
“Thank you,” I said quietly, casting my eyes down as shame warmed my cheeks. I hated that I let it get this bad.
With a final nod, he left.
“Don’t give me that look,” I said when I risked a glance at my still-furious brother. “I’m not protecting them.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he at least didn’t argue again.
“If Mom and our dads know I’m here, why aren’t they around?”
He rolled his eyes. Honestly, that was answer enough. “You know Mom. She wanted to stay, but she couldn’t stomach seeing you like this.” He used air quotes, his voice pitching higher as he impersonated her perfectly.
“Sounds like her,” I said with a weak chuckle.
“I don’t want you on your own right now, Lana,” he said again. “They say you’ll recover better around people. There’s a lot of bad shit that can happen after riding out heats like that. There’s a reason resources exist.”
“I shouldn’t have needed them.”
“You’re right,” he said. “You shouldn’t have. But you did. And I truly can’t wait to kill them for this.”
“How about you focus on beating their asses on the ice,” I said, leaning back. “Now tell me about this pack of yours.”
“We’re not a pack. Just teammates. It never felt right calling it that. But, we’re brothers still. I trust them more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. They’re my best friends.”
“What about Dean and Sutton and Milo?” I asked. “You once said the same about them.”
His eyes darkened. “Clearly, I didn’t know them at all. They didn’t even bother to keep in touch once they moved.”
I sighed. “Fame changes people. Guess they couldn’t handle it.”
“Fuck them,” he said with disgust.
My eyes drifted closed as he kept talking, making plans for the move and insisting I come with them when away games hit. Maybe even finding me a role on the team.
As pathetic as it sounded, I couldn’t bear to be alone anymore.
His fingers tightened around mine one last time, his voice dropping to a whisper, the uttered promise settling into my chest.
“Everything is going to get better now. You’re not alone. I’m here.”