Chapter 24 #2
I don’t have words because if she hadn’t left, I would never have met my scent-match Alphas.
She’s quiet for a moment. Around us, people drift past with coffees and hot dogs, kids chase each other behind the stand, and someone’s dog barks at a seagull. Ordinary life, flowing around two Omegas having a conversation that is anything but.
“My first Alpha marked me,” she says finally, which I already knew, but I listen to her.
“Kristian claimed me young, bonded me, and then decided I wasn’t interesting enough to keep.
Dumped and kicked me out of our home. When the bond sickness hit, I thought I was dying.
Your body doesn’t understand the difference between rejection and death.
It just screams.” She wipes her eyes. “When those three Alphas took me in, I thought a new pack would override the pull. It didn’t.
The bond to Kristian kept dragging me back, and eventually I wasn’t strong enough to resist it. ”
“It must have been horrible,” I add.
“Worse the second time.” The words drop flat. “He isolated me. Told my friends I was unstable until they stopped calling. Controlled my money, my phone, my movements. By the time he threw me out again, I had nothing. Nobody.”
“Family?”
“They’re not talking to me.” Her lips pinch as though she’s gone through this enough times that now it’s just on repeat. “My friends had warned me about Kristian when I first met him. I didn’t listen. Hindsight doesn’t just sting—it guts you.”
My chest aches for her. The words echo differently because I’ve heard versions of them in my own voice. An Alpha who disassembles you brick by brick and convinces you the demolition is your fault.
“Your Alpha doesn’t deserve you,” I say. “You deserve so much more.”
“I’m starting to believe that.” She gives me a tiny smile, and I feel horrible that she’s hurting, as she’s a victim, just like me.
“I’m speaking with an old friend I got in contact with again.
I told her what happened with Kristian, and she said she might have a spare room at her place for me,” she explains.
“Shouldn’t be more than a few days. I want a fresh start somewhere Kristian can’t reach, so if I could stay with you four a bit longer, it would mean everything to me. ”
“Of course,” I say immediately, and I hug her. Not sure what came over me, but there’s so much agony, so much rejection, and it’s way too close to home. “I’m sorry you went through all that crap.”
“Thanks.” We pull back, and she smiles. “They really adore you. Last night, all they talked about was you. Your cooking, your book, the way you laugh. Jakob wouldn’t shut up about some dance you did for Corey in a cabin.
” She grins, and for a second, it’s as if I’m standing in front of a ghost of who she used to be. “He’s extremely jealous.”
I’m chuckling because of course they can’t stop talking about that.
“And there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t wish one of them had marked me instead of Kristian.” Her voice quiets. “Maybe everything would have been different. So now that you have time, fight for them, do anything to keep them, okay?”
I nod, then the silence stretches, when a shadow falls across me from behind.
I turn, thinking I’m blocking someone’s path, and the ground opens under my feet. I recoil instantly.
Louis is standing there, narrow gaze scanning me the way a predator does its prey. “Relax, Claire.” He has his palms up now. “I’m not here for you. Just grabbing a coffee.”
“Then grab it and go,” I blurt out, my voice shaking.
He doesn’t move, but his gaze drifts to Trudy, then back to me, and the smile sharpens. “Quite the operation you’ve got running, Claire. Watched you all arrive here. Didn’t realize you were into sharing your Alphas. Or didn’t you have a choice?”
The words cut.
“Though, I couldn’t help noticing…” He drops his voice, his breath carrying the scent of mint gum.
“The way those three were checking out Trudy in the parking lot earlier when you had your back turned.” He nods at Trudy.
“Every Alpha I’ve ever met collects until he’s satisfied and trades up when he gets bored. You know that. You’ve lived it.”
My lungs freeze. The rational voice in my skull is screaming that this is exactly what he does—calculated cruelty disguised as concern.
“How do you know my name?” Trudy asks, her brow furrowed.
“Heard one of them say it earlier.” He shrugs. “Names carry.”
“Get away from us,” I snap, every inch of me trembling. “You’re the asshole who broke into my house, and now you’re stalking me here?”
He’s chuckling but not denying it.
“Go before we scream,” Trudy pipes in, the fragility I’ve been seeing all morning vanishing. Her spine straightens. “I don’t know who you are, but Claire told you to leave and you’re still standing here.”
Louis’s smile falters. “The truth is sitting right in your chest, Claire,” he says, stepping back. “You’re just too stubborn to know that you will never be an Alpha’s final choice.”
He whips around and strolls back to a brunette sitting on a log fence near the parking area, eating a hot dog. That must be the Omega he left me for, and I feel the tears and fury rising through me.
“Who the hell was that?” Trudy breathes.
“My ex.”
She grabs my arm with the grip of a woman who recognizes a predator because she’s survived one. “Every single thing he just said was designed to hurt you. I lived inside it for two years with my Alpha, who I’m never going back to again.”
“It’s what he does.” I glance at them getting into his silver sedan, my lungs so tight I can barely draw breath. I hate how much he still impacts me.
“Thank God you’re not with him anymore,” Trudy says, shaking her head.
My name is suddenly called at the coffee stand. Trudy and I collect the cups, and we climb the slope toward the benches. I glance back, and Louis’s car is already pulling out of the lot because of course he drops the grenade and runs before my Alphas could skin him alive.
But the shrapnel stays, the damage done.
I settle between Corey and Brody, their arms finding me, sipping from their coffees.
I don’t tell them about Louis, not yet, as there’s nothing to do, so why spoil the moment?
On the field, Jakob flattens a player twice his size, and the crowd cheers.
I grip my coffee and draw its warmth into the cold space behind my ribs where Louis’s words are already burrowing.