Chapter 18 #2
“Meredith met him at some Omega rights rally. He was volunteering, said all the right things about consent and pack dynamics, and how Alphas needed to do better. We liked him.” The admission tastes like ash.
“Invited him to dinner. To the house. Cass worked on cars with him in the garage. Eli taught him how to make that fucking bread he’s always going on about. ”
I have to stop. Have to breathe through the rage that still sits in my chest after all these years.
“We thought he was safe. Thought we were being careful, doing our due diligence. Background check came back clean. References were solid. He seemed like he got it—that she was ours and we were hers and you don’t fuck with that.”
“He called it an accident. Breath play gone wrong.” My voice sounds dead even to my own ears. “But the bruises—”
Under my grip, the rail creaks. Jess’s hand twitches like she wants to reach for me, but doesn’t know if she should.
“The bruises told a different story. That was rage. Pure fucking rage, not passion.” The images are burned into my brain—purple-black marks around her throat, finger-shaped, too tight, held too long.
“We were supposed to be out that day. All three of us, picking out an engagement ring because that’s what you did back then, made it legal and official even though we all knew the bond was already there. ”
My hands are shaking, and I grip the rail harder to stop it.
“Blake said he’d stay with her. Said she was tired, that she’d been working too hard on the house and needed rest. That he’d make sure she ate something, took a nap, had everything she needed while we left to buy an engagement ring for her.
” The words taste like poison. “We believed him. We fucking left her there with him.”
My vision blurs. I blink it clear, focus on the wood grain under my hands until the world steadies. “By the time we got back, she was gone. Ambulance was already there. Blake standing in our driveway with this look on his face—not grief, not panic. Annoyance. Like we’d interrupted something.”
Jess makes a sound in her throat. Small. Broken.
“He tried to tell us it was an accident. That she liked it rough. That she’d asked for it, wanted it, begged him to go harder.
” My voice drops, goes cold. “But I could smell the lie. Could smell her fear still in the air, thick and acrid under the scent of death. She’d been terrified. And he’d kept going anyway.”
Jess hooks her pinky around mine on the rail. The touch is light. Grounding.
“Cassian hit him first. Broke his jaw in three places before I even processed what was happening. Then I was on him too—fists, elbows, didn’t fucking matter.
My knuckles split open on his teeth. Felt his ribs crack under my hands and wanted more.
Wanted to kill him. Wanted to make him hurt the way she hurt. ”
The fog seems thinner now, but I still can’t see far past the bay.
“Eli pulled us off. Called the cops while Cass and I stood there bleeding and shaking and useless. The paramedics wouldn’t let us see her.
Wouldn’t let us say goodbye. And Blake—” The rage threatens to choke me.
“Blake walked. His father’s money made sure of it.
Hired lawyers who made it about her choices, her desires, who painted us as jealous and controlling and probably abusive ourselves.
Six months later, the case was dropped. Self-defense, they called it. Tragic accident.”
“Nine years ago, but it still haunts me.” I drag a hand over my face. “Part of Cassian hates me for not letting him finish the job. Most days, I think he’s right and hate myself that I didn’t kill Blake right there.”
Jess swallows. “You loved her.”
I nod because I can’t say yes, or I’ll fucking break down. “And after that, every Omega we tried with just… didn’t fit. Some were scared of Cassian. Some couldn’t handle what we are together or accept Eli both with me and in their bed. Meredith was the last time I believed it could work.”
“And that scares the shit out of me. That one of us will fuck this up and lose you, too.”
I glance at her then. The fog softens everything—her hair, her mouth, the way she’s biting her lip.
She looks down into her coffee. “Because I could leave.”
“Because you could stay.”
The silence that follows isn’t empty—it’s full of heartbeat and salt air and the kind of grief that still tastes like guilt.
She reaches out then, not a full touch, just her pinky brushing mine on the railing.
It’s enough to ground me. Enough to make the ghost I’ve carried for nine years quiet for a second.
“You didn’t fuck it up,” she whispers.
“Not yet.”
She lifts her chin. “You won’t.”
The certainty in her voice hits me sideways. Faith I haven’t earned. Faith, I’m terrified to accept because what if she’s wrong? What if I miss something again, let my guard down for five fucking minutes, and lose her too?
But she’s still looking at me like I’m not broken. Like the blood on my hands twelve years ago doesn’t make me a monster. Like she trusts me anyway.
I should fucking tell her that she shouldn’t.
Want to warn her that we’re damaged goods, that we’ve been playing it safe with Omegas ever since, because we’re terrified of getting it wrong again.
That last night when I heard her laughing with Cassian, I was relieved and jealous and scared shitless all at once because it means she’s real and this is happening and I could lose her a thousand different ways.
Instead, I just nod. Swallow hard. Let her pinky stay hooked around mine for three more heartbeats before she pulls away.
Eli steps out, reading the moment like only he can. He hands her a coffee in a purple mug, and doesn’t comment on my wrecked expression or the way Jess’s eyes are a little too bright.
“Cassian’s still asleep. Looks like someone threw a blanket over a sea lion.”
Jess giggles, and the sound hits me in the chest, loosens something that’s been locked up since three a.m. She tips her face toward the fog, closes her eyes, just breathing. She looks devastating. Looks like a pack is forming around her, whether she’s named it yet or not.
“I’m going for a run,” I say, because I need to move before I do something stupid. “Beach loop. Anyone want in?”
Eli passes. Jess hesitates. “I don’t have good shoes for running or sand.”
“Later then. After breakfast, we’ll fix that. Shoes. Jacket. Hat. Whatever you need.” It comes out like an order. I soften it. “If you want.”
Her expression changes to surprise. “If I want,” she repeats, like she’s testing how it.
“Yeah. If you want.”
Eli bumps the door open. “I’ll start toast before Cassian eats cereal out of the box like an animal.” Then he disappears inside.
The silence that drops is easier this time. The bay shifts. Far out there’s a lighter strip of gray where the sun might show up if it feels like it.
“I didn’t—” Jess stops. Starts over. “I don’t want you thinking last night was about not wanting you.”
A fucking pain lodges behind my ribs. “I know,” I say, and I do. Her mouth on mine before we came here was real. But knowing that and feeling it at four in the morning are two different things.
Her shoulders drop. “Okay. Good.”
I look at her straight on. Let her see whatever’s on my face. “If you ever want me to back off,” I say, “just say it. You won’t hurt me.”
Her eyes meet mine. Dark. Steady. “And if I tell you not to?”
The air pulls tight between us. My hand finds the rail, grips. “Then I won’t.”
She holds my gaze, and her pupils go wide. Not omega biology. Just want and desire, or I’m fucking projecting because I want to fuck her, knot her, make her mine.
The fog wraps around us, making the world smaller. Just her slightly parted lips and my hands that want to touch so badly it’s a physical ache.
Color rises in her cheeks, spreads down her neck. She tucks her hair behind her ear with the cuff, looks away. “Brunch first,” she says. Almost a dare. “Then shoes.”
“Then shoes,” I agree.
I take the steps two at a time. The beach is cold and sharp and exactly what I need. Wet sand pulls at my feet. I run until the cabin disappears and the fog lifts enough to breathe. Until I’m just a body moving, heart pounding, lungs burning.
It doesn’t fix shit. The burn in my lungs just gives my want a rhythm. Meredith was love built slow—trust first, heat later. Jess is the opposite. Want first, logic after, and every breath feels like I’m choosing wrong and right at the same time.
I crave her bad enough that it’s making me stupid. Doesn’t change that Cassian got there first, and part of me is actually relieved because if it had been me, I don’t know if I could’ve kept it together. Could’ve stayed careful instead of claiming and biting, letting everyone see that she’s mine.
When I circle back to the cabin, the windows are glowing gold. Toast smell, coffee, voices layered over each other. Eli’s dry commentary. Cassian’s rough laugh. And Jess, softer underneath, weaving through it like she belongs here.
I stop at the steps. Let myself want this for one more breath. Us every fucking day with her in the middle.
Then I go inside.
Eli’s spreading butter on toast, and Cassian leans against the counter, looking smug as hell with wet hair and his coffee. And Jess turns from the counter, a smile already forming.
“Coffee?” she asks, running a finger down the French press.
“Yeah,” I say.
Not the promise I want to make. Not the one where I tell her exactly what I want to do with my hands and mouth. Not the one where I ask if she thought about me last night, even once. Not the one where I admit I’ve been half-hard since she walked into our lives.
Just the one where I show up. Where I’m steady and sure until she decides if she wants more.
If she does.
The word tastes bitter. I take the coffee anyway. Let my fingers brush hers on the mug, watch her smile soften, and the noise in my head quiets for the first time since midnight.
Small victories. But I’ll fucking take them.