Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Hazel
Four Months Later
The look of broken desperation was one I’d seen before in the mirror. The listless eyes, the skeletal shoulders curled in protectively. Like her thin frame could protect her from a world that had chewed her up and spat her out.
“You’re safe, Evie,” I told her as gently as possible, keeping my tone soft and soothing.
It helped that we were in one of the intake nests. Elizabeth had designed it perfectly with low ceilings, no windows, and a single door. There wasn’t a way for a threat to breach the room without being noticed, and with Evie’s past, we knew she needed to feel secure.
I glanced down at my notepad with the highlights of Evie’s last five years in New York.
Sold off to a gang to pay her older brother’s gambling debt after her parents died in a boating accident. Passed around like a party favor by the gang until she was eventually auctioned off to the highest bidding pack—a group of sadistic alphas who had zero regard or respect.
When news broke of an omega brothel, where packs were lending their omegas to any alpha that would pay for a night to get knotted, the teams at the sanctuary had sprung into action. We’d dispatched a team—Pack Stone—to extract her from the situation and bring her safely back to California.
Evie had arrived two days ago. Her bruised body had years of trauma etched into it, but at her core, there was a candle that hadn’t been snuffed out. She would rally, and she would fight.
She would get the ending to her story that she deserved, just like I had.
“I don’t have any money,” Evie whispered, her tone a seductive breathy sort of rasp. Her dark hair hung around her face, keeping her eyes shadowed. “I can’t pay for this.”
“You don’t have to,” I assured her. “Our goal is to get you settled and then help you start living your life.”
She stiffened. “With another pack?”
“No.” I was quick to shut that shit down. “A life that looks however you want it to. Maybe that’s with a pack. Maybe that’s on a mountain a hundred miles from another living soul.”
She made a half-amused sound. “More like two hundred miles.”
“Or that,” I agreed with a chuckle.
She sobered. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move past this.”
“If I can, you can,” I told her.
Her gaze collided with mine, questioning and uncertain.
And I told her everything. Growing up a beta, being kidnapped and my designation switching, and finding my pack.
By the end of the hour, we were both wrung out, but some of the light was back in her eyes. She curled up in the nest as I exited, not surprised to find one of my alphas waiting on the other side of the door.
Wordlessly, Rhett pulled me into his arms. I rested my head on his chest, my arms wound around his back as I breathed in his scent.
Whenever I had a rough intake session with an abused omega—which was pretty damn frequently—one of my pack was always waiting on the other side of the door.
“I’m okay,” I mumbled into his chest.
“I know.” Rhett’s hand moved up and down my back. “Crew’s in a meeting while Kellan and Jude are working with the new tactical pack that arrived. But you and I can go home if you want.”
I tipped my head back with a grin. “You mean I get you all to myself?”
His gaze scorched as he devoured me. “Fairly certain that’s my line, omega.” He brushed my hair back. “And, oh, the plans I have for you.”
I wiggled free. “Give me a couple minutes, okay? I need to give Calla my notes, then I’ll meet you in the lobby. Deal?”
“Deal,” he agreed, reeling me back in for a hard kiss that left my lips tingling as I walked down the hallway to Calla’s office.
I paused at her door when I heard shouting. Sighing, I didn’t bother knocking as I pushed the door open with my toe.
I was starting to get used to the view of Calla and Oakley glaring at each other over her desk.
“If you think you can save an omega better, then you’re welcome to get off your little ass and try it yourself, princess,” Oak spat, looking close to losing it.
Calla lifted her chin, eyes narrowed. “Don’t be so dramatic, Oakley. All I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to try and mitigate the property damage. But wait, you’re not the one footing the bill, are you?”
“It was a little accident!”
“You totaled a Porsche!”
Oak’s nostrils flared. “The next time someone’s shooting at us, I’ll stick my head out and politely ask them to stop.”
Calla’s mouth flattened. “Perfect.”
Oakley spun away and spotted me, his eyes softening. “Hey, Haze. Maybe you can remind your friend that unless she’s in the field, she should stick to what she knows—parties and fancy clothes.” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door hard enough to make the pictures on the desk rattle.
I gaped at Calla. “What the hell?”
Calla dropped into her chair with a huff. “He’s such a bastard.”
“Did you really give him a hard time for totaling the car?” I pressed, sitting down in the chair across from her.
She rubbed her temples. “Yes. I mean, no. I’m just trying to be conscientious of the bottom line.”
I frowned, but didn’t say anything. Calla had been adamant that she help at the sanctuary, specifically on the business side of things. She helped oversee the finances with two other older alphas, in addition to attending many events to fundraise for the program.
Since officially launching three months earlier, the Omega Sanctuary had successfully helped nineteen omegas nationwide. While that number didn’t make a dent in the real problem, especially on the East Coast, we’d done something. And we planned to do more. We were just getting started.
“Did you need something?” Calla asked me, sounding weary.
I slid the folder across her desk. “Evie Lewis’s intake folder.”
Calla accepted it with a nod. “I’ll work on setting up an independent bank account and ID that she can access by the end of the week.”
“Okay.” I hesitated to stand. “Cal, are you sure you’re okay?”
The smile she flashed was bright and too quick. “Of course.”
“Rhett and I were going to go home, but if you want to come over, we can open a bottle of wine and consume all the fancy chocolate Thane sent for Rhett’s birthday,” I suggested.
She cocked her head, her blonde curls spilling over one shoulder. “You’re willing to share Rhett’s chocolate? That’s big of you, honey.”
I smirked. “Oh, no. Thane sent Rhett a watch. The chocolate and flowers were all for me, for having to deal with Rhett—that’s a quote from the card.”
She giggled.
“Thane loves messing with my pack, and I love when they get messed with because it makes them all go a little feral.” I bit my lower lip, remembering a few nights ago when I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk into work the next day.
Calla’s smile dimmed, and I winced. “Sorry, Cal. I forgot the rule.” The ‘not mentioning your brother routinely fucks my brains out’ rule that had been instituted after Calla came over to ask me to brunch only to find her brother eating me for brunch on the kitchen island.
Calla and Crew had only recently started making eye contact at family dinners again.
Her cell phone chirped with an incoming text, and I watched her expression go frozen a second before she smoothed it away.
“Who was that?” I inquired.
“Wrong number,” she muttered, tucking her phone into the pocket of her pale pink slacks.
Alarm bells were distantly ringing in my head. “Cal?—”
“I have stuff to finish up here.” Her expression was neutral and almost icy now. “You go and have fun with your pack.” There was no missing the bitterness in that last word.
“But—”
She stood abruptly, grabbing several files. “I need Bernie to approve these new accounts before he leaves for the night. I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Uh, yeah,” I agreed reluctantly as she breezed out the door, her heels clicking as she went down the hall.
Something wasn’t right with my bestie, and I was determined to figure out what it was. Maybe this weekend I’d have time to pin her down and make her talk to me.
Sighing, I stood and went to my own cubicle in the main office to grab my purse. I nodded to the other women in the room who helped me process omega intake interviews. “Goodnight, Chris. Goodnight, Kim.”
“Night, Hazel,” they called back in unison.
Tucking my purse under my arm, I went to meet Rhett in the lobby. When he spotted me, the grin he flashed me was slick-inducing. In a suit with shiny black shoes, his dark hair mussed and dark beard trimmed neatly, he looked like he’d just stepped out of a GQ photoshoot.
His silver eyes sparkled as he held out a hand for me. “Ready to go home, love?”
I never got tired of answering that question. “Absolutely.”