Chapter 35
Silas
The warehouse lot is still crowded when Graham and I pull in. Emergency vehicles line the space, red and blue lights cutting through the haze of dust hanging in the air. I step out and scan the scene, my alpha rising immediately to the surface. I push him back down.
Not yet. Find her first.
My alpha knows that Lark was not harmed by the building’s collapse, but he’s still frantic.
The stress from the emergency combined with whatever happened between her and Saint has probably rattled her.
May even made her more likely to go into a spike, as Graham reminded me no less than one thousand times on our trip here.
The idea of her perfume rising and pain spiking around so many alphas makes me want to mow every emergency worker I see down until I find her.
Firefighters and police officers move in and out of the main building, radios crackling.
“She’s here,” Graham says beside me, though I hadn’t asked. His voice is tight and controlled. He’s as big of a mess as I am.
“I can smell her. It’s faint, but definitely Lark.”
“I know,” I answer, already moving. “I caught it the second we stepped out of the car.”
A man steps out of the main warehouse just as we approach. He’s wearing a Garden Brook FD jacket. The embroidered badge over his chest reads Fire Marshal. I angle toward him.
“Excuse me.”
He turns, taking us in quickly.
“I’m Silas Caron,” I say. “I’m looking for my omega, Lark Jensen. She owns OmegaBox.”
Recognition flickers across his face. He sticks out his hand. “So you’re the other alphas,” he says. He jerks his chin toward the warehouse. “Your omega is in the conference room. She’s with the other one. Saint.”
“Thank you,” I say.
He doesn’t move out of the way immediately. “I’ll warn you,” he adds, voice shifting just enough to let me know he’s serious. “He’s a little feral right now.”
Graham stiffens beside me.
The fire marshal huffs out a quiet chuckle, though there’s no humor in it. “Got quite the scare,” he says. “Thought she was inside when the building came down.”
My alpha goes completely still. For half a second, everything in me locks into place. Saint, walking into this. Saint, thinking—
I cut the thought off before it can finish.
“She’s safe?” I ask.
The fire marshal nods. “He’s not going to hurt her. He’s just feeling a little more of that alpha protection instinct than normal.”
The tension in my chest eases.
He adds, “Took a bit to get him settled. Still hasn’t let her out of arm’s reach.”
Of course he hasn’t. I wouldn’t either if I had thought that she’d been hurt. But for Saint, that must have been a special kind of hell.
I move toward the doors. “Thank you,” I say over my shoulder.
Graham falls into step with me, his usual commentary noticeably absent for once. Which tells me everything I need to know about where his head is.
We cross the threshold into the warehouse and make our way to the conference room. We’ve only visited once before, but Graham and I both know exactly where it is. I push open the door without knocking. She’s here.
Lark sits sideways across Saint’s lap, her arms looped loosely around his shoulders. His face is buried in her neck. He’s taking slow, deep breaths like he’s afraid he might forget her scent.
For a second, I just stand there. Relief hits first. She’s healthy and calm. I don’t move, though. Not yet. I don’t want to spook Saint.
His head snaps up, eyes locking onto us, and the snarl that rips from his chest is pure animal. Graham stills beside me. I lift my hands slowly, palms open.
“Easy,” I say.
Graham mirrors me without a word.
Lark sighs, like this is only a mild inconvenience and not completely unhinged. “Saint,” she chides softly, brushing her fingers through his hair. “Silas and Graham are pack. They won’t hurt me. Or you.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off me, but the snarl quiets. Barely.
She turns her head just enough to look at me, her expression apologetic and a little amused all at once. “I only just convinced him to let me turn around and sit like this,” she says. “I’ve been holding on like a koala since he found me.”
Despite everything, my mouth twitches. “Are you well?” I ask, my voice softer now. “Any symptoms? Dizziness? Cramps?”
“We’ve been worried the stress would send you into a spike,” Graham adds.
I take a step forward before I can stop myself. I need to place my palm against her skin. To assure myself that she’s truly okay.
Saint reacts instantly. He yanks her tighter against his chest, turning his body away from me like I might rip her out of his arms. Lark winces. It’s small, but I see it.
My alpha surges. “Saint.” My voice drops. “Don’t be rough with our omega.” The words come out as a bark before I can temper them. I hate using my dominance against my pack, but I won’t let her get hurt.
Saint freezes. Then his grip loosens. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Lark releases a breath letting me know she can breathe easily now.
Good.
Graham finally steps forward just a fraction and touches his fingers to her temple. “She’s not flushed,” he says, more to himself than anyone else. “Respiration appears normal. No visible signs of distress.”
The corners of her mouth lift. “I’m fine, giant. You don’t have to worry about me.”
He hesitates, like he’s not sure he can trust her. Then he straightens his shoulders like he won’t take no for an answer, and says, “We’re taking you home.”
She turns her smiling face back to Saint. “Would you like that?” she asks gently. “Silas and Graham will take us home.”
Saint’s lip curls and a low growl rumbles through his chest. She doesn’t flinch.
“No one is taking me from you,” she says. “I’ll stay right here. I promise.” She tightens her arms around his shoulders like she’s anchoring herself to him. “I’ll even sit in your lap the whole way.”
Something in him settles. Not completely, but it’s enough. Just shifts his grip on her, locking her more securely against him. Then he stands with her in his arms.
I exhale slowly. “Let’s go, then,” I say.
I glance at Graham. “Take Saint’s Jeep. Follow us.”
For the first time since I’ve known him, since he was ten and trailing after me like a shadow, Graham shakes his head.
“No.”
I blink. He doesn’t look at me. His eyes are on Lark.
“I’m not leaving her.”
The words are quiet but firm. And I get it. God, do I get it. I don’t want to leave her either.
“Fine,” I say. “We’ll come back for it.”
If it’s not here later, fuck it, I’ll buy him a new one. I just want my omega home.
It looks like a scene from a damned movie.
The one where the heroes walk out of a fiery building holding the injured omega.
Except she's not injured. And Saint is absolutely feral.
And Graham keeps looking at her like she might evaporate.
And I'm the only one holding it together, which is both my job and my particular brand of suffering today.
We pass Cammie on our way to the car. “If I had known a building collapse would get him to come to his sense, I would have suggested it yesterday over margaritas.” She’s smiling ear to ear.
Lark rolls her eyes.
I don’t know what the hell they are talking about. Cammie says a lot of crazy shit, but she makes Lark happy. So, she makes me happy, too.
Getting Lark and Saint into the Rover is… complicated. Saint refuses to let her down. Which means he has to climb in backwards with her still wrapped around him, growling the entire time like I’m going to challenge him for possession.
It takes every ounce of patience and a lot of not shoving him into the seat. Eventually, he settles into the captain’s chair, Lark still firmly attached to his front. His hands are gripping her tight, so I reach in to help with the seatbelt.
Saint’s snarl is immediate, daring me. My own answers before I can stop it.
“Enough.” The bark reverberates between us. Fuck, that’s twice now.
Saint's jaw tightens but he stills. I'll apologize later. When he's human again.
Lark presses a quick kiss to his jaw. “It’s just for a second,” she murmurs.
He sits quietly, just long enough for me to click the belt into place.
I close the door and circle around to the driver’s seat.
Graham is already in the passenger side, but he doesn’t settle. Not fully. He keeps turning slightly, looking back at her like he needs constant confirmation she’s still there.
I start the engine and pull out onto the road. The silence in the car is thick. I want her to talk to me. To reassure me that she’s really okay. But what do you say when you’re hauling a feral packmate and his captive omega in the backseat?
After a minute, Graham turns in his seat completely, bracing his arm along the headrest so he can see her.
“You don’t have to answer right now,” he says. “But the university is recognizing my research at the President’s Gala next week.”
Lark blinks at him.
“Graham,” I say, but I’m interrupted by the soft, bright tinkling of her laugh. It’s a fucking relief to hear it.
Graham narrows his eyes at me, but only for a second. Then he slides them back to Lark. “I’d like you to come with me.”
I huff out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “I was just wondering how to break the silence.”
He ignores me, completely this time, but Lark doesn’t. She laughs even harder now. Graham isn’t offended, though. Anytime our omega is happy, he’s happy.
“So, will you come?”
Lark nods, still smiling. “Obviously. We’ll all be there. We can’t miss our sweet giant getting an award.”
Graham relaxes a fraction, but his gaze flicks to Saint. I glance in the rearview mirror and do the same. He hasn’t moved, his face still buried against Lark’s neck, arms locked tight around her like she’s the only thing tethering him to this world.
“I want you all there, except,” he ticks his chin toward Saint, “he’s going to need to learn to share.”
Saint growls and tightens his grip, but Lark only laughs.
I watch them in the rearview mirror. His face still buried in her neck. Her still laughing. There they are.
My pack.