50. Lachlan
Chapter Fifty
Lachlan
She goes limp in my arms. One second she's hyperventilating—the next, nothing. Her head lolls back. Her eyes roll up.
"Kaia." Finn's voice cracks.
My hand slides behind her head, cradling her against my chest. "She's out," I say. My voice is calm. Steady. Even though my heart is pounding. Even though terror threatens to swallow me whole.
Finn twists in his seat, eyes wide. "Is she…"
"She's breathing," I say. "She just had a panic attack. A severe one."
I shift her carefully, supporting her head, keeping her close.
My other hand settles on her shoulder. Grounding.
Steady. And then, without thinking, something deep inside my chest comes alive.
A low, rumbling vibration builds beneath my ribs, constant and unrelenting. It spreads through me. Through her.
A purr.
Pure instinct. Primal.
The only thing I know how to do when someone I love is hurting. Ground them. Soothe them. Heal them. Even if they can't hear it. Even if they're unconscious, I keep purring, letting the low vibration wrap around her like a promise she’s not alone. That I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.
Outside, I hear Adrian's voice. Calm. Controlled. Then another voice. Male. Cold.
"Give us our daughter."
My jaw tightens.
Finn whimpers softly. "Lachlan."
"I've got her," I say quietly. "She's safe."
Jonas is on the phone in front of me, his voice low and urgent.
"Yes, sir. We need you here immediately.
Her parents showed up with private security and police.
No, she had a panic attack when she saw them.
She's unconscious right now." A pause. "Yes.
Adrian's handling it, but we need you here.
" Another pause. "Yes, sir. I'm calling the doctor next. Thank you."
I keep one hand on Kaia's head, the other on her shoulder.
The purr doesn't stop. It can't. Because if I stop, I'll have to think about what's happening outside.
And if I think about it, I'll want to go out there.
And I can't. Not when she needs me here.
I hear her mother's voice next. Shrill. Panicked.
"She doesn't know what she's doing. She just designated as an Omega.
She needs help." My hands grip her tighter.
Possessive. Protective. A low growl rumbles beneath my purr—two sounds at war in my throat.
Finn's breathing is too fast. He's staring at Kaia, his hands shaking.
"Finn," I say quietly. "Look at me." He does. His eyes are wet. "She's okay," I say. "Her breathing is steady. Her pulse is strong. She just couldn't handle seeing them."
"What if they take her?" he whispers.
"They won't."
"But what if…"
"They won't," I say again, firmer this time. "Adrian won't let them. And neither will we."
Finn nods. Just barely. But his hands are still shaking.
I shift Kaia slightly, adjusting her weight, keeping her close. The purr intensifies. I can feel it in my ribs. In my throat. In the air between us. It's the only thing I can give her right now. The only thing I know how to do.
Outside, the voices are getting louder. Her father's tone is sharp. Demanding. Adrian's is still calm. But there's an edge to it now–sharp and deliberate.
"She's an adult. She made her choice."
"That's not for you to decide."
"It's not for you to decide, either."
I hear footsteps. Movement.
Jonas finishes his call. "Adrian's father is on his way."
"Good," I say.
Finn twists around again. "Is she waking up?"
I check. Her eyelids are still closed. Her breathing is steady but shallow. "Not yet."
"Should we…"
"No," I say. "Let her rest. Her body shut down to protect her."
Finn nods but doesn't look away from her. Neither do I.
Then I hear it. A new voice. Closer.
"I need to check on her."
Manny. Good. At least it's someone who knows us. Someone I trust.
But then I hear something else. Another set of footsteps. Fast. Purposeful. Not Manny's. Someone else.
"Don't!" Adrian's voice. Sharp. Too late.
The guard opens the back car door—and the cold night air rushes in like a physical assault.
The temperature drops instantly, a jarring shock that steals the breath from my lungs.
The warmth we've built inside the car, the sanctuary we've created around Kaia's unconscious form, shatters in seconds.
Cold air floods across my skin, across her skin, carrying with it the sharp salt of the ocean and the acrid scent of threat.
It's a violation—the outside world breaching our sanctuary.
One of the guards is standing just a foot away, staring at Kaia, unconscious in my arms, exposed and vulnerable to the cold and the intrusion.
"She's out," he says. Loud—too loud.
My entire body goes rigid. The purr intensifies, instinct taking over. I pull Kaia closer, shielding her. My hand shifts to the back of her head. Protective.
"Back up," I almost growl. My voice is low. Dangerous.
The guard doesn't move. "What did you do to her?"
The purr cuts off. Abruptly. Replaced by something darker—a low, rumbling growl that rises from deep in my chest. My grip on Kaia tightens, one arm locked around her protectively, the other hand cradling her head against me. Every muscle in my body coils tight, ready to strike.
I lean forward. Just slightly. Just enough that the guard takes half a step back.
My eyes lock on his. Hard. Predatory. Unblinking.
"Nothing." My voice drops into something dangerous, something barely controlled. "She had a panic attack when she saw her parents."
The words come out clipped. Precise. Each one a warning.
Because the accusation—what did you do to her—is still hanging in the air between us. Like we're the ones who hurt her. Like we're the threat. When we're the only thing standing between her and the people who broke her in the first place.
My jaw clenches so hard I feel it in my teeth. It would take nothing—nothing—to put this guard on the ground. To make him understand exactly what happens when someone threatens what's mine.
But I don't move; I hold still. Because Kaia is unconscious in my arms, and she needs me steady. She needs me in control. She needs me to protect her the right way—not by giving her parents ammunition, but by being the wall they can't get through.
So I stay exactly where I am. Holding her. Growling. Letting this guard see exactly how close he is to crossing a line he won't come back from.
"Convenient."
My jaw tightens. Finn growls. "Get away from her."
The guard's hand moves toward his belt. And that's when I hear her mother shrieking. "What did you do? What did you give her?"
Adrian doesn’t let her tone rattle him. His response is sure, controlled. "She had a panic attack. That's the truth."
Her father's voice is colder. "Prove it."
But I can hear the shift in his tone. This is escalating. Fast. I crane my head around the suited guard and watch as Manny steps forward, his voice firm. "I need to check on her. Just to confirm she's okay."
I don't move. Not until Adrian appears beside the car.
He meets my eyes. Nods once. I exhale. Then I shift slightly, giving Manny access.
But I don't let go of her. Manny leans in, pressing two fingers into her wrist, then her neck.
He watches her breathing. "She's stable," he says after a moment. "Elevated heart rate. But she's okay."
"She had a panic attack," I say again.
Manny nods. "I believe you." He straightens, looks at Adrian. "I can't stop them from trying to see her. But I can make sure they don't take her anywhere she doesn't want to go."
Adrian nods. "Thank you."
Manny walks back toward the porch. The guard is still standing here, staring. I meet his gaze. Don't blink. "Back up," I say again. This time, he does. Slowly. I close the door and exhale.
Jonas's hand is on my leg. Steady. "You okay?" he asks quietly.
"No," I say. Because I'm not. I'm terrified.
Terrified that they'll take her. Terrified she'll wake up and see them and spiral again.
Terrified I won't be able to protect her.
But I don't say any of that. I just keep holding her.
Keep purring. Keep grounding her. Because that's all I can do.
And I'll do it for as long as she needs.
Even if it's forever.