Broken Dreams (Unhingedverse)
Broken Dreams: Chapter 20

CHRISTIAN

Every lead has been a dead end. I’m currently sitting in a club in Minneapolis, gazing down at a glass of rich brown Irish whiskey, contemplating my life’s failures. I never said it was a healthy pastime, but I’m at a stalemate on replaceing Makayla and Linus.

There’s no chatter about two gorgeous new omegas in the area, and I’ve been trolling everything from dive bars to this new club run by a mafia boss. I don’t do much work in Minnesota ever since a pack moved from Chicago almost a year ago to begin moving weapons.

I have this feeling that I’m doomed. How can I fix my massive fuck up if I can’t replace them to apologize?

Though, an apology is worthless without the action behind it.

“Hey, that drink probably will taste better if you’re not staring at it,” Ambrose says, causing me to glance up at him. He’s the manager of this club and a couple of others that’ll be opening soon.

People talk when they drink, and I have no problems eavesdropping on those with loose lips. It’s how I also now know that he was an enforcer who enjoys getting creative with his kills. The shudder one of the alphas had as he whispered about “Penis Picasso” almost had me cupping my knot with a wince.

I should get the fuck out of here, but el chisme is just too good. I can thank my dear, departed mother for the love of gossip.

“I have to drive,” I say dully, glancing back at my drink. I haven’t even had a sip, the lighter shades simply remind me of Linus’ hair. Fuck, I’m pathetic.

“If you can’t handle a glass of whiskey and still have use of all of your faculties, then you have a problem,” Ambrose says, towering over me as he crosses his arms over his chest.

His dark hair is tied back in a man bun, but it doesn’t look messy somehow when paired with the nice suit he’s wearing. I’m waxing poetic on everything, I really don’t need to drink. I’m a mess all by myself.

The sounds of a well known singer who sings all about that fills my mind, and I decide I’m fucking losing it. I’ve completely cracked while pining, if I’m thinking about Celine Dion.

“Perhaps,” I mutter, not wanting to get in a fight with the locals. I have two guns hidden on my body, three knives strapped to my chest, and a garrote wrapped around my belt.

I’m loaded up for war, but just because I’m prepared for it, doesn’t mean that I need to go looking for trouble. It’s one of the things most of the hotheads who buy from me don’t understand.

“You look like you lost something,” he says shrewdly. “I think I should tell you that if it’s in my city, then it’ll probably stay lost. You look like a douchebag.”

A bark of laughter surprises me as it comes from my mouth, and I shake my head.

“You ever fuck up so badly you don’t think you can come back from it?” I ask, my ankle crossing over my knee as I’m forced to look up at his towering body. I’m not so weak willed that I feel the need to be on the same level as him.

I am perfectly fine in my chair, waiting him out until he gets bored and leaves me to my thoughts.

His almost-black gaze stays on me, no hints of what’s going on in his mind present. The man doesn’t even blink.

“Well, it sucks,” I mutter, finally taking a small sip of my whiskey. The flavor of caramel and smokiness coats my tongue as I swallow, replaceing myself enjoying it. It’s not tequila, but this is an Irish club. It seemed silly to order it. “I lost what I’m looking for through inaction, and now I’m paying for it.”

“Maybe you should take care of your toys,” Ambrose says. “Anything can wither and die if you ignore it long enough.”

Even though he’s an emotionless mountain of an alpha, I can’t help but think he may understand me. Yet, I’m not about to sing kumbaya with him anytime soon, I’m not that crazy.

“Good advice,” I murmur. “If I could replace them, then I can make it right. Otherwise, it’s just another regret.”

“Some things can’t be fixed,” he says with a shrug. “Cerenity Quinn is known to take omegas who are running away from their pasts. If your agenda is to hurt people, then I should warn you that she and her pack will fuck you up and no one will ever know where you’re buried, because you’ll be the shite the pigs excrete. Got me?”

And there’s the psychopath. Nice to meet you.

“Got it,” I agree.

“We don’t waste whiskey around here. Slam it down before you leave,” he grunts.

This takes dick measuring to a whole new level. Fucking Irish men.

Lifting the glass to my lips, I tip it back, my throat working to swallow every damn drop. My head spins a bit as I put down the glass, closing my eyes briefly. I don’t care if it’s viewed as weak, that drink was strong.

“You good?” Ambrose asks, amused as I nod, opening my eyes again.

“Completely,” I murmur. “Thanks for the chat.”

“Yeah, what happens next is all on you. Don’t thank me yet. You could still end up as fertilizer,” he says, picking up my glass carefully, away from my fingerprints. I doubt he’ll get anything off it. I burned them off when I was twenty one when I left a crew due to another bad decision.

Apparently, I’m full of them. That needs to change.

Ambrose walks away, nodding to people as he moves through the club, and I stand up, glad my vision is evening out. I’m taking a nap in my car. Then I’ll take a trip to see Cerenity.

QUINN

“Pack Dresmond is here, they said they’re taking you home?” Augustine asks, appearing confused as he replaces Linus and I once our shift is over. We just changed into street clothes, and my face is bare of makeup.

“Really?” Linus asks, confused. “It’s not that we don’t trust them, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I had a feeling you weren’t expecting it, so I walked them to my office to cool their heels. I’ll lead you back there and wait because I refuse to have anyone disappear on my watch,” he grumbles.

So he didn’t know this was happening either. Duncan and Callum were supposed to come before the end of our shift to watch us dance, but something obviously came up. Following Augustine, we walk to his office. The first thing I see is Adira and Jed practically hissing at each other, and a ball of lead begins to grow in the pit of my stomach.

I don’t have permanent bonds to either brother, so I wouldn’t even know if something awful had happened to them. We’ve been going really slow recently, but it’s been almost three weeks since my escape from Slick Dreams, and a part of me wants permanence.

Everything still feels transitional. My nest and dance room is amazing, and I love it, but I could leave tomorrow with Linus, and there’s no real stamp of who I am anywhere in the house.

Most importantly, there’s nothing on my body that marks me as claimed. I want to be fucking useless to Bret to use anymore because I have marks on my body that warn other alphas that I belong to someone else. Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling unsettled over the last few days.

I want to be someone’s omega who adores me, has wanted me for years, because they love me. It’s crazy, slow should be what I want, but then as I’m in this situation where I’m at sea about what’s happening, I crave the mate bond with every cell in my body.

Fuck, I’m a damn mess. I can’t even say it’s my heat that’s making me this emotional because I just had it.

“Hey,” Adira breathes, standing quickly. “So we’re a surprise, and I get that. I’m going to preface this with Callum and Duncan are totally fine.”

The black spots behind my eyes warn me that I haven’t been breathing properly, and my body lists to the side, causing Linus to catch me.

“Breathe,” he says, his green eyes murky with worry as he holds me up.

“I promise, Callum called me and he’s fine,” Jed insists, moving until I can see him. “Your mom called him and he went to pick her up.”

Gasping in a breath, I begin to feel silly, but I didn’t know what else to think. Why would my mom call Callum?

Tucking me into his side, Linus raises the question in my mind.

“I don’t understand why her mom would do that. I thought her dad was really controlling?” he asks.

“Here,” Adira says, pulling out her phone to call him. “I should have started with this. We still don’t know each other well, and I wouldn’t trust me either.”

The words are said so simply, without ire at our suspicions. It’s not that I don’t trust her, I’m confused completely by what’s going on.

The call rings twice before it’s answered. “Is everything okay?” Callum asks. “Are they with you?”

His tone is gruff and worried, not really putting me at ease at all. Looking up at Linus, he nods, picking up on the vibes.

“We’re here, but Quinn and I don’t understand why you aren’t,” he says. “I’m fine with a change in plans, but⁠—”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Callum says, sighing. “I literally just told you earlier today I’d give you a heads up when things would change, but this all moved too quickly. Ayla is stable, Morris is here making sure she stays that way. Quinn, baby, there’s a lot she needs to tell you. She had a moment of weakness and tried to leave us all.”

Suicide? I never would have thought my mom would do that. She was always so bright, happy, and strong. Mom would stand up to my father, advocate for my friendship with the Kellys, and used to tell me that anything could be achieved if you focused on a few seconds at a time.

I’ve used that last one more times than I know, just not in the way she ever would have thought.

“Shit,” Linus mutters. “I can see why you sent them to pick us up. Thanks for explaining.”

“We cut it too close on time to pick up Ayla, and then things went sideways. I’ve been feeling shitty about it,” Callum says.

“It sounds like you may have saved her life,” Linus says simply. He’s right, how could we ever begrudge him this.

God, I’m going to see my mom!

“She’s fine now, getting hydrated with fluids and taking some activated charcoal to help neutralize the effects of what she took,” Callum says. “We’ll see you soon.”

“We’ll take good care of them,” Adira says before saying goodbye and hanging up. “I didn’t know how to articulate all of that, and I only know pieces of what he explained.”

“Thank you for calling him,” Linus murmurs. “I guess we should get home.”

The two of us are quiet as we walk out a side entrance toward the car with Adira and Jed. My thoughts are sliding from one potential moment to the next, imagining all the different ways this reunion could go. My anxiety is a thief of joy, twisting each one until I feel tears threatening my vision.

I have to focus on what is in front of me, and not what could be. I’ve lived in a bubble, uncaring of what others think of me because they don’t matter. Even my father’s opinion of me isn’t worth much because he’s always been harsh to me.

But my mom? Dad has been using her against me because I’d do anything to see her, and now…

“It’s okay to cry,” Linus says gently. That’s all I need to release the floodgates, beginning to sob, my fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, he cradles me in his arms, holding me tightly as my new seat harness. Sucking in deep breaths, I let him snuggle me, struggling to get control of my emotions. When you’ve had to hide them all in a little box for the past twenty years, it’s hard to process them.

Everything feels raw when they begin to leak out, and you can’t stuff them back into the box. The leak turns into a bigger problem, until you’re trying to control a fucking fire hose. It’s not an easy thing to manage. All I can do is sit and go through it, even though it feels as if there are nails clawing at my insides.

My eyes feel a little raw by the time we pull through the front gates of the house, and I’m glad I removed my makeup. Adira also pushes tissues into my hand to help me mop up my face and blow my nose. I’m a damn mess.

I haven’t spoken at all, my tablet left in the Kelly’s SUV. It’s nice to not be expected to speak, because it exhausts me to get my thoughts together to write out after years of sitting in silence.

It’s why I sometimes get overstimulated with the guys when I’m expected to contribute to the conversation. I think they’ve noticed, because the last couple of days, they have been sitting in the living room with us to work on their things, while Linus and I watch movies or listen to podcasts.

I want to be in the room with them, I crave it, but my sensory intake is easily overloaded. I don’t want to hide away to be able to even things out, so I love that I get to hang out with them.

It’s odd and very much because Linus and I have spent so much time alone, despite living in close proximity with other omegas. I would often replace a place to hide away to get some space as often as possible, while not catching Bret’s wrath.

It’s a thin tight rope to hold onto my sanity, since so many comfort items weren’t available nor allowed. Now that I do have those things, I’m replaceing my way around spending time with more people. Linus notices the moment my eyes start to glaze over, which is a huge flex.

Most people go nonverbal when they hit their wall, but I already am.

Sliding off Linus’ lap to get out of the vehicle, I watch as the front door flings open and the brothers rush out.

“How was work?” they ask in unison.

My lips twitch because they’re cute.

“We accidentally got someone fired,” Linus offers as we walk toward them. “A twat dancer thought it would be fun to pick on Quinn.”

“Oh my god, people are dumber than rocks,” Adira mutters as she and Jed stand beside us. My lips curl up a bit more, because she’s not wrong. “From what I understand, Cerenity doesn’t put up with that kind of behavior.”

I shake my head, and Linus says, “She wasn’t amused. Everyone else was great, and Quinn and I loved dancing together. It was almost like we could forget there was anyone else around.”

It’s definitely what we both needed, but I want to go inside. Linus has our bag in his hand and I bounce impatiently on the balls of my feet.

“We’re going to let you guys get inside,” Adira says. “If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from running to see my mom.”

“Seriously, if you need anything, let us know,” Jed says. “Morris texted and said he may stay overnight to watch his newest patient.”

“He mentioned that,” Duncan says. “Thank you for everything. Ready to see your mom, Quinn?”

I nod, feeling nervous, turning to wave to Jed and Adira. They aren’t the least bit upset, clearly understanding my anxious energy.

They get into their vehicle as we begin to walk toward the house, and Duncan catches a glimpse of my tear-ravaged face.

“I need to hug you,” he rumbles, holding out his hand to me. Linus easily lets me go, not so discreetly pushing me in his direction. I’m desperate for the touch of one of my alphas, and Duncan lifts me into his arms so I can wrap myself around him like a koala.

“I had a really bad feeling on our way over to the Hughes house,” Callum confesses, wrapping his arm around Linus’ shoulders. We both were unsettled by the change, and I can tell they understand that. “The front gate was shut even though Ayla said she’d leave it open for us.”

“So we jumped the side fence,” Duncan continues, pushing the door open for us to enter. “Everything about it was so fucking off. Callum’s spidey senses were tingling, so we started calling out for your mom, Quinn.”

“I never thought I’d see her like that,” Callum sighs, shutting the door behind us all. “She was hospitalized shortly after you were taken, and she was never the same after. I wish I’d pushed more to see her.”

“Instead, we’d see her at events, and she’d just flit around the room like a ghost,” Duncan grunts. “Morris has got her on an IV, and she’s laying on the couch. We were lucky we found her when we did, because I was able to get her to vomit up the pills and the booze.”

My mom never drinks. What the fuck?

Nodding to show I understand, I walk through the house until I remember I don’t have my tablet. Stopping suddenly, I lift my hand and pretend to write on the air.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s right. There’s one in the living room. I’m just going to order a bunch and leave them in the rooms you’re in the most, just in case,” he decides.

Gazing up at him in exasperation, I shake my head. That’s really not necessary.

“I don’t want to worry that you can’t say what you need to,” he says as if it’s for selfish reasons.

Yeah, I very much doubt that.

Forcing my feet to move, I walk into the living room, my gaze on the blanket covered body on the couch. My mother’s blue eyes, that remind me so much of mine, meet me and I notice the things that have changed in the past twenty years. Her blonde hair is streaked with some gray, and she’s thinner than I remember. There’s a sadness that hangs around her, like the ghosts of the past won’t let her go.

There’s no sign of Morris, but my mother appears to be comfortable for now.

Mom, I mouth. I’m not hallucinating, this isn’t the little girl inside of me yearning to make this true.

She’s really here.

The IV pole stands behind her, the wires hanging down to where the cannula is placed in her vein to rehydrate her and help with the after effects of the suicide attempt. I’m scared to touch her.

It’s a ridiculous thought, but still one that floats through my mind until she whispers, “My daughter. Quinnie.”

That’s probably where Callum got the nickname, my mom’s been calling me that my entire life. It’s when her free arm reaches for me that I break, moving quickly toward her, dropping to my knees to carefully hug her. God, she feels so damn fragile. I want to fucking kill my father.

Sitting up after practically laying across her and enjoying the feeling of her hand rubbing my back, I wipe away the stray tears that fall down my cheeks. Almost blindly, I replace the tablet by my knee, glad I didn’t crush it.

I want his head, I write, angrily sliding it across the table to where my pack is crouching by it. I don’t know how long they’ve been there, it appears that they’ve just been sitting in silence with me.

“Quinnie,” Mom murmurs, grabbing my attention as I turn back to her. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

Her fingers move to touch my hair, and I remember the knives in them. Quickly, I catch her hand, biting my lip.

“The pins in her hair are sharp,” Linus says gently. “She doesn’t want you to cut yourself.”

“So smart,” Mom murmurs in approval as I release her hand. She goes back to running her fingers carefully through my much shorter curls, humming to herself. “I love this color on you. It reminds me of happiness.”

God, I think I’m going to float away from all the tears flowing. All I can do is stare at her, reminding myself this is real. I’ll have to continue doing it until I can believe it.

“I’ll get out of your hair soon,” she says. “You’re building a new life, you don’t need me around.”

My eyes grow wide as I shake my head wildly.

“No!” I yell, surprising myself by both the vehemence of it and the sound at all.

“You spoke to me,” she whispers.

“It just depends,” Linus rasps behind me. “For some reason, even one word answers can refuse to come out.”

“Who are you?” Mom asks, and I realize we’ve been lacking in the introduction department.

“Linus Fallon,” he says, rising to walk over to me. “I’m now Linus Kelly, though.”

I didn’t even know his last name. Looking up at him, he smirks as he crouches down by me.

“Nice to meet you,” he murmurs, but I shiver, because it feels as if he’s reintroducing himself to me as well.

“Tell them about what you found out, Ayla,” Duncan says softly, prompting her to talk to me. “You also don’t need to rush off anywhere. You’d be safer here, and you know it. Give your daughter time to get to know you again.”

“Duncan Kelly,” my mother says, fire in her voice as she shoves her free hand into the cushion to hoist herself higher on the cushions behind her. “You don’t need an old woman underfoot getting in the way.”

“Yeah we do,” Callum says with a snort. “Fair warning, there’s a stripper dance pole in the dance room that used to be Grandma Deidre’s sunroom.”

“Your grandmother regularly had sex in that room, which is why it is soundproofed,” Mom says, amused. “You think I didn’t know about that? I have tea with her at least once a month. She’s the only person Hudson lets me see.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Duncan mutters. “Please stay, Ayla.”

My mom glances at me as I nod, and then finally Linus. Taking a deep breath, he takes my hand. I can tell he’s about to say something difficult to her.

“I don’t have a dog in this fight,” he begins, gazing at my mother. “However, if you’re here, you’re done with her father. There’s no back and forth. You will not interfere with her safety here. She hasn’t been safe since she was fourteen years old.”

Flinching, Mom nods. I wince, but he’s right. She can’t be the reason Dad worms his way back into my life.

“How do you ask someone for a divorce when they threatened to give you to the highest bidder to rape repeatedly?” she asks, shaking her head. “What did you write on the tablet, Quinnie?”

In shock, I reach behind me, taking the tablet from Callum to show her.

“That’s the only way I’m getting out of this,” she finally says, grimacing. “A few months before you disappeared, I had a fight with your father. He wanted to set up an arranged marriage for a man who was interested in someone who looked like you. It was ridiculous, and I said as much. I asked, ‘What about love, or allowing her to date and be a kid?’”

“Dad and Hudson told us to stay away,” Duncan grumbles, moving to sit on the couch next to us. Callum also gets up, perching on an arm of the couch by my mom’s feet.

“Which had nothing to do with you,” Mom says. “He’d been acting oddly for a year before that, communicating with an alpha in Wisconsin. I kept asking him what he was doing. He said this was for our family, because we were in debt.”

“Fuck,” Callum mutters. “He’s been making really good money. I mentioned that to Quinn, because it seemed odd that he was thriving while his daughter was missing. I didn’t know he was money laundering until you told me.”

“Yes,” she rasps. “This alpha named Miles said he’d give him business if Hudson did as he asked.”

A full body, wracking shudder flows through my body at his name, along with an unsettling fear. The air sours with the scent of burnt sugar and Mom looks at me with tears glazing her eyes.

“I don’t know his last name,” she whispers, as if it’s important.

Lifting the tablet, I take back my hand from Linus to write it out.

Kellogg. The guys know it.

Mom nods, and Morris pops his head into the room.

“I’m going to spend the night and watch out for any potential issues,” he says. “I’m going to begin hunting down this Miles guy with the emails Miss Ayla brought with her from her house. I’ll be in the courtyard if anyone needs me. Maybe I’ll also put together the swing you left in pieces on the ground.”

“Thanks, yeah, we got a little distracted,” Callum says with a shrug. “We’ll get to it.”

Glancing at him, I watch as his cheeks pinken.

“It was a surprise. I set up the swing in your nest, and we bought a second for the courtyard. It felt like a nice addition,” he admits.

It is. Thank you, I tell him.

“I’m going to pretend these are normal swings,” Mom teases us. My cheeks get red hot now, despite my previous occupation as a sex worker.

“So what did Miles want in return for work?” Duncan asks. “Quinn?”

“Basically,” Mom says. “Over the course of that year, the conversation between Hudson and I got more and more heated until we were having screaming fights while you were at school. What he was doing was the opposite of what any father worth his salt should ever do.”

“It sounds as if he didn’t care,” Linus whispers.

“Not at all,” Mom says. “Then, the day that you went with those awful girls to the mall, he locked me in the attic. I screamed, kicked, and tried to break the window up there, but nothing worked. I watched you walk out of the house, knowing you probably wouldn’t come back.”

“Fuck,” Callum says. “Hudson arranged the whole thing.”

“He did, and he held me against the wall as he told me all about it, the cuntbag,” Mom mutters. The curse makes my eyes widen, but my father should be called so many more things. “The girls knew you were going to be kidnapped, and he asked them to take you to a very specific location.”

Oh my God. My memories are tumbled into snapshots of the past due to how much time has passed, but I remember the way they’d acted.

What about the guards? I ask her, turning the tablet.

“They knew as well, at least the ones who were loyal to him,” she replies. “It was all timed out to ensure Miles would get his hands on you. I’m⁠—”

NO, I tell her, shaking my head.

She was just as much a victim. There was nothing she could have done, other than get us both out. Mom loved my dad, and maybe part of her still does.

I don’t know. My father is not a good man, though.

“Once he let me out to confirm that you were gone, I attacked him,” Mom rasps. “I scratched his face up, kicked, and acted like a wild animal. He just laughed. Hudson grabbed me by the hair and dragged me down the stairs, throwing me at men who were wearing white jackets. I spent a week at what used to be called the Weeping Willow Institute. The doctor there gave me electroshock therapy, trying to tell me my daughter was in a better fucking place.”

By this point, my mom and I are crying again. Duncan sniffles, shaking his head, while Callum has a single tear trailing down his cheek.

Mom was a mother to them as well, and we all lost her in a sense.

“No wonder you were a ghost of yourself,” Callum says. “Hudson was such a prick to be around. Duncan and I had a really hard time being near him as he gathered the support of the community, as if he didn’t do all of this himself.”

“All of it,” she agrees. “So I just floated from place to place, and contemplated ending things many times. Until, I found out that you were alive. I called the boys and told them to come get me, but your father tried to ruin that too.”

“He was on the way home,” Duncan says. “We barely got away, right out the front gate as he was coming in.”

Wow. So many things tried to go wrong, and still, my mom is here.

“Does she still go to this dinner?” Duncan groans. “We’ve put things in place to keep her as safe as possible, but shit can go sideways quickly.”

“Insist on having it in a neutral place,” Mom says, nodding. “He has no power anymore. If you’re going to kill Hudson, you need allies.”

My mother is definitely a mafia wife, and understands power dynamics well. We’re all trying to pull ourselves together after crying, though we still look rough around the edges. I’m exhausted from all the emotion dumping too.

“Let’s get some sleep, looks like we have some work to do,” Callum says. “I’m going to go help Morris replace Miles. There might be something in those emails that may help, but if nothing else, I can pull his IP address.”

“Most people don’t understand technology,” Duncan agrees.

From my memories, I can say they’re right. Alpha Miles really didn’t understand anything tech-based. He’d make me do tasks for him while naked, hack into things while sitting on his cock. Fuck, I need to stop thinking about it before I vomit.

Too late.

Rising, I stumble to my feet, running for the closest place I can get to, which is the large kitchen sink. I could tell I wouldn’t make it to the bathroom, not while the bile is rising, and I can taste the metallic flavor that reminds me of his cum.

Retching, I shudder as fluid and pieces of food come up. Cold fingers pull back my hair almost immediately as I clutch the counter crying because this hurts in so many ways. There’s the licking shame of the things I let Alpha Miles do to me when I couldn’t consent.

That word has been a joke for a lot of years.

There’s also a hatred for the memories I’m forced to hold space for, locked up inside of me because I can’t talk about them. The words are frozen, much like my vocal cords as everything inside of me replaces its easiest exit point.

“Let it all go,” Duncan murmurs in my ear. Somehow, it makes me sob harder as my body takes that as a challenge, seizing as I gag on nothing.

I don’t have anything left to vomit, and only have tears and pain in return. I don’t feel anything, I just feel gross.

“You’re okay. Breathe, baby girl. Wash out your mouth,” he demands. I’m glad he’s here, because all I can do is blankly stare at the mess I’ve made. I swear I might have pieces of food on my face, and I feel revulsion for myself as I clean up. “Dry off and let me tell you something before I take you upstairs so I can run you a bath.”

I don’t think I’ve had a bath in over twenty years.

I’m shocked as I press a towel to my face to absorb the water dripping from my skin, turning to face him.

“You heard me,” he says. “The tub in your bathroom is incredible, it’s time you used it.”

He’s right, I’ve only ever used the shower in there, because the tub feels overindulgent. I don’t deserve to relax in warm water filled with bubbles, right?

Duncan gently takes the towel from me, tossing it on the counter. My nose wrinkles at him as he wraps his arm around my waist, chuckling at me.

“Callum will put it where it needs to go,” he purrs in my ear. “Probably in the next few minutes because he’s going to clean out the sink.”

Cringing, I attempt to turn around because that’s nasty. He shouldn’t have to look at it, much less clean it up.

“Shit, Quinn, he’s really not going to care about a little vomit as long as you’re taking care of yourself, okay?” he says, waiting for me to nod and start walking toward the stairs.

I’ve learned things tonight I never thought I’d hear. I feel spacey as I follow where Duncan leads me. I don’t want to think anymore, and my mind is having trouble tracking my surroundings. It feels as if one moment I’m at the base at the stairs, while the next, I’m at the top.

Since I can’t teleport, I’m going to take this as a bad sign.

Duncan simply continues on, practically propping me between the door and the counter while he prepares the bath.

“I’m going to stay with you,” he says worriedly, watching as I zone in and out. “Is that okay? Drowning in the bath would be a little anticlimactic.”

That gets my attention, helps me begin to snap out of my fog. Nodding, I force myself to move and brush my teeth. The mintiness of my toothpaste may help sharpen my mind, and push away the rest of my funk. It also clears my mouth of the gross taste of vomit.

This is how I know I’m not completely here, I usually would have immediately been brushing my teeth.

Sighing at myself in disappointment, I watch as Duncan adds bath salts and lights a candle at the edge of the huge tub. God, this must be what it’s like to be pampered. I’ve never had this before, and I’m in awe of it.

“Come here, beautiful,” he murmurs, drying his hands off after checking the temperature of the water to make sure it’s right.

Carefully, he helps me pull off my clothes, dropping each piece into the hamper to be dealt with later. Next, he carefully pulls every sharp pin out of my hair, dropping it into the cup sitting by the tub as if in wait for them.

Taking my hand, he ensures I get into the bathtub safely, but I hold on tightly to his hand. I don’t want to be in the tub alone suddenly. I want to feel his steadiness and strength, and hope it may help me shore my own.

I don’t feel very strong right now.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, so I tug him gently toward the tub. I’m not a psychopath, I don’t want him to fall in or anything. “If you’re sure, I’ll join you.”

Leaning back, I nod, watching him strip his clothing off piece by piece, knowing I’ll be digging them out of the hamper for Linus and my nest. Even though his scent is on our sheets, I crave more of it. His ink is beautiful, the skull with a crown on it that says My Queen catching my eye.

I’m intrigued by it, and it’s beautiful. It doesn’t occur to me that there would be any other women, which may be due to how I’m feeling tonight. Jealousy isn’t an emotion I have space for at the moment.

I fully expect to fall asleep in the bath, which is another reason I want Duncan to stay with me.

The last time I saw him fully naked was during my heat, but since they’re medically induced, I’m half out of my mind with need. I don’t know if they’re normal, and it’s yet another thing I need to add to the list to Google.

My life is so odd. Normal things help to ground me.

As Duncan pushes his boxers to the ground, I get an up close and personal moment with his dick. The crown is thick and makes my mouth water, but I’m too tired to do much with it. It’s pretty, as well as darker than the rest of his body. His knot is also impressive, and my inner self preens with happiness.

Down girl. There will be plenty of time for that.

“Are you enjoying your view?” he teases me. My cheeks heat as I unabashedly nod. “Good, you should. Now scoot up because I want to be your own personal pillow.”

Doing as he says, I wait for him to get into the water, which he does groaning.

“I don’t know when I last took a bath,” he says. “Be prepared to take them with me from now on, I think I like it.”

My lips twitch, because it won’t be a hardship at all. His hands ease me back against his chest, and then his arm is banded comfortably around my waist. Allowing the heat of the water and his body to seep into my skin, I feel my eyes begin to close. He’s so comfortable.

Remembering his tattoo, I twist my head to look at it before tapping on it to ask him about it. There are other tattoos surrounding it on his arms, yet that’s the one that stands out.

“Noticed that, did you?” he asks, kissing my hair. Laying back, I nod, looking up at him. “When you disappeared, Callum and I both got tattooed to remind ourselves that you were ours. No one else would ever do until we could replace you. It never occurred to either one of us that we’d be lucky enough to have two scent matches. The date you disappeared is underneath the crown on Callum. Interestingly enough, it’s also Adira’s birthday. That one blew my mind. We’d usually be blind drunk that day, but going to celebrate her birth kept us from that.”

Thank God. Yet another thing to be grateful for. I don’t want anyone mourning me. Remembering I exist is fine, but I don’t want people to grieve me. That’s just not who I am.

“Anyway, this way you’re always with us until we complete the bond bites,” he murmurs, making me shiver. “Do you want that, Sweet Girl?”

I nod as I continue to gaze up at him before grinning giddily. I can’t believe I’m in the bathtub with Duncan Kelly. I don’t think my fourteen year self would ever recover.

Dropping my chin, I cuddle against his chest as he begins to tell me stories until his voice is a growly rumble that helps me drift off to sleep.

QUINN

Two days later

“You should be happy with whatever your life has given you. Working or reaching for more will only frustrate you and turn you into a bitch. Sweet omegas are more likely to catch alphas who will take care of them,” Emilia Richardson says. “Take the road of sweetness, and see how much better your life will be for it.”

I’m listening to this wretched twunt’s podcast and I want to throw something at the computer as I get ready for this dinner. My father has been blowing up Duncan’s phone, but he’s been largely ignored. The voicemails had me leave the room while the brothers listened to them due to the venom dripping from his mouth.

I don’t have to listen to those, and I won’t. I’ll have to deal with him enough tonight.

Apparently I’m a glutton for punishment, because I’ve been listening to Emilia for the past hour, and sometimes she makes podcasts in response to something that The Little Rabbit has said.

“Others will tell you independence is sexy, but good, old fashioned values are what builds a healthy relationship with your alphas,” Emilia drones on.

The Little Rabbit recently spoke about how the roles of designations have been evolving, and that it should be acceptable for omegas to work outside of the house once they’ve joined a pack. They shouldn’t be cloistered away unless they’re happier in that role.

The active ingredients in a healthy pack, according to her, are choices. Happiness is dependent on each person, but discovering things that give you joy is important when it comes to replaceing where you fit in your pack. Odds are, the alphas in your life will all have work outside of the home.

So what will you do all day? The Little Rabbit has a point, because the first thing I wanted to do when I could pinpoint what I needed, was to dance. I can’t lay in my nest all day, though I enjoyed the down time. I’ve never had any before, in my adult life.

As I smooth down my black, modest cocktail dress nervously, I’m reminded that I’ve been listening to podcasts to keep my mind off seeing my father. I’m worried this dress is slutty in some way. I did some online shopping, and at the time I thought it would be fine. However, now I’m second guessing if my breasts are too big for it, or if there’s too much leg showing.

The top of the dress is a square neck that’s offering a bare hint of cleavage, with clean lines down to my mid thigh where the slit begins. I want to make sure I can get my knife that’s now strapped to my upper leg. It’s perfectly hidden by the slit, even when I sit down. I had to practice to make sure I wouldn’t flash anyone. The slit begins at my mid thigh so I’m not in danger of that.

While I’ve been practicing at the gun range behind the house, I still don’t feel proficient enough to carry a firearm yet. I need to practice more, because fumbling with a weapon you’re not comfortable with leads to accidents.

Forcing air through my lungs, I remind myself that there are safeguards in place. I’ll be fine.

“I want to help people replace happiness and safety, so I’ve decided to begin monthly mixers⁠—”

Excuse the fuck out of me?!

Almost falling in my heels as I turn too quickly, I glance around as if someone’s watching me, even though I’m alone in the nest. Get it together, Quinn.

Walking swiftly, I climb into my bed to turn the computer around and rewind the podcast. I need to know exactly what this woman is saying. She’s the last person who should be putting anything together for alphas and omegas to replace each other.

“Yes, you’ve heard correctly. Out of the goodness of my heart, the Regional Omega Women’s Society is going to be putting together mixers with acceptable alphas,” Emilia says. “There will be no ruffians or criminals, and by the same standard, omegas will need to apply for the privilege to attend. We’ll provide more information, including when they will soon begin.”

More and more, I’m wishing that I could rail and yell at a fucking machine. Instead I wordlessly growl at the damn thing, only listening for a couple of more minutes so I can replace out when this ridiculous thing is supposed to begin. I continue to snarl when I replace there’s no other information other than “soon.”

“What are you doing?” Callum asks, amused. Flopping onto my ass from where I’m on my hands and knees glaring at my computer, I make a face at him.

Finding my tablet hidden in the blankets, I write out my response. Callum was able to create a program for me so my replies will be spoken out loud. It’s really cool, and something I’ll be using tonight. It’s not exactly my voice, though he tailored it to older voice messages that I sent him as a child before aging it to sound more like me.

This man is a damn genius. This is the best gift I’ve ever received, though I can’t help but say that about anything the Kelly brothers give me.

“Emilia Richardson has decided to begin a monthly mixer for alphas and omegas to help them make the right decisions for their future,” I explain. “Omegas will have to apply to ensure they’re an appropriate fit.”

Callum looks horrified, gazing at me for several moments.

“I came to tell you that you had to leave in a few minutes, but goddamn, Quinn,” he mutters. “Emilia shouldn’t be setting anyone up together. When is that supposed to start?”

“All she says is that it’ll be soon,” I explain. “I have very strong feelings about this. I don’t want anyone to go missing because they trusted her. I’ve been torturing myself with her podcasts while I get ready.”

“Well, this is self-flagellation that’s hopefully going to have something good come from it,” he says. “I’m going to also tell someone who runs events like this that isn’t a soulless bitch, and suggest that she advertise more. Hopefully we can cancel out Emilia, while we keep an eye on her events.”

“She’s a damn menace,” I agree, scooting off the bed to stand. I need to check my hair, but I was hoping Linus would come upstairs before he had to go to work.

I have a feeling there won’t be enough time for that. He’s probably trying to keep himself busy since he doesn’t want me to go to this damn dinner at all. Linus is being a pouty omega. I understand his anxiety and frustration about it, but I need to solidify my place with these old mafia men.

I need their respect, because my father isn’t going to live forever. In fact, I’m going to make sure he doesn’t.

Walking across the room to the bathroom, I pick up the curling iron to fix the little pieces that didn’t want to behave the first time.

“I’m going to take Linus to work now,” Callum reminds me, coming closer.

Linus and I have been fighting all day. It’s rare, but he hates when I do things that put me in danger. It’s a conversation we’ve been having for the past ten years. It’s nothing new.

Nodding, I fix my hair, my stomach twisting as it calls me a liar. I really want to talk to Linus, but he’s just as stubborn as I am.

“Do you want to come down to say goodbye?” he asks. I know he’s noticed the way Linus and I have been acting together.

I deactivate the voice feature when I talk to Linus, so the conversation doesn’t make much sense if someone walks by to “eavesdrop.” I have my alphas’ numbers. Sneaky little shits. I know they’ve been trying to figure out why he and I have been so on edge.

I have to do this. There’s no other way. Dad has to die, and I want to help replace Alpha Miles. Maybe my father will slip up because I’m mute, forgetting I have a voice at all. Bret used to do this often, which is why I know so much about his business.

Waiting for me to set the curler aside so he can crowd into my space, Callum wraps his arms around my waist, rubbing his face along my throat to scent mark me.

“You’re both so stubborn,” he murmurs. “Hopefully work keeps his mind busy. Make up with him when you get back, yeah?”

Well, making up is fun, and I smirk at him through my reflection in the mirror, nodding.

“And now my dick is hard from the promise in that smile,” he mutters. “I love you. Please be careful.”

My mouth drops open as he kisses my temple before slipping away. I know what I feel for Callum and Duncan, but somehow I wasn’t expecting either of them to feel the same.

Callum Kelly loves me. He never said that to me when I was younger, probably due to our age difference, yet I remember laying in bed wishing the Kelly brothers would love me. I feel as if my teenage angst and crush just came full circle.

Shaking my head at how love replaces a way, I pick up an eyeliner pencil and line my eyes. My eyeshadow is done, I just needed to add the finishing touches. I even styled my special pins into my hair for added protection. Gazing at myself, I decide this is the best I’m going to look. My makeup reminds me of ‘natural glam’, which I did on purpose.

It’s just enough to irritate my father without others being able to say that I look like a whore. From the dress, makeup, to high heels, he’ll be chomping at the bit because I’m no longer a little girl, nor can I be controlled as such.

Sighing, I unplug the curling iron and turn off the light, walking out of the bathroom to grab my clutch and put the mini tablet inside of it. Callum added a service plan to this one so I can text him throughout the night. Everything we can do to keep the lines of communication open, is being done. I can also record conversations to send to Callum as evidence.

Adding in lipstick to fix it as needed, I zip up the clutch, placing it underneath my arm as I leave my nest to walk downstairs. Hearing the front door close from the hallway, I cringe. I really will sit down with Linus when I get back. I need to talk to him about how sometimes I’m going to have to do difficult and dangerous things.

He’s going to need to get used to it. I won’t cower in fear.

Stepping off the last stair, I smile at my mom who probably heard my heels. Wiggling my fingers at her in greeting, I watch her wring her hands.

“Duncan reminded Linus and I that you’ll be fine, it’s just hard to know you’re going back into the house I just escaped from,” she says.

I nod to show I acknowledge her worries, and then the doorbell rings. Checking the monitor by the front door, I see it’s Adira and another man whose name is Evan. I was told that he’s a beta and Cian’s driver, meant to help in case things went pear shaped.

Something tells me we’ll be really fucked if he needs to step in. While he looks like the boy next door, there’s an intensity to his caramel gaze that’s almost unsettling. Evan is very aware tonight could go badly.

“Ready, Quinn?” he asks, waiting to see if I need to grab anything. My nerves aren’t ready, but that’s not something he can fix.

Nodding, I wave goodbye to my mother, whose lips are tightly pressed together. I’m sure she’s holding back a lot.

“I love you, Quinnie,” she finally says. “If your father provokes you, stab him.”

Evan hides a smile as I incline my head to show that I heard her. There’s nothing quite like an omega scorned. Don’t fuck with their children.

Stepping out the door, I watch as my mother shuts it behind me, listening to the deadbolts slide home. I know that after we leave, Callum will arm the alarms from the road because he’s watching the camera as Duncan drives. This was all explained to me earlier today, since I was worried about leaving my mother home alone.

Callum also showed her how to work the safe room on the first floor for extra security purposes. Not one person said it may be overkill. There’s no such thing when dealing with someone who would sell his own daughter for success.

“It’s going to be fine,” Adira mutters under her breath as if convincing both of us. I simply continue to walk to the car, because there’s no way to know that.

The only way out is through, and no one can convince me otherwise.

Evan opens the back door for the two of us, and Adira slides in before I do.

“Hello, Quinn,” Cian says as the door shuts. Leaning forward, I nod at him as the light fades in the car. Pulling out the tablet, I fire it up so I can maintain a conversation as necessary.

“Hi,” I reply.

“I’ll be damned,” he mutters. “Those Kelly boys can do anything.”

My lips twitch in response, because they really can. There’s nothing those two can’t do if they put their minds to it. They found me, after all.

The car ride is filled with Cian going through our plan.

“Do not go anywhere without someone, please,” he says. “Buddy system to use the bathroom. Too much shit happens in the simple trip to piss.”

Adira makes a sound of amusement, but nods to agree.

“I’m going to make sure that I sit next to you,” she adds. “I don’t trust anyone right now.”

“We should be bookends,” Cian says. “It’s a show of power, but fuck it. We are clearly backing you, Quinn. We may as well be loud about it in our actions. The senior members need to know that you’re protected. Some of them are assholes.”

“Is Theo Finnegan coming tonight?” Adira asks. “I really dislike that man. Are we sure he has nothing to do with the disappearance of his daughter?”

“Daughter?” I ask. The chances that I’ll know who she is are slim, but I still hate the idea that other girls are going missing.

“Yes, I worked for his son, and he once mentioned his sister,” she says. “She was fourteen when she disappeared.”

My skin explodes in goose flesh as I shudder in revulsion. God, I wouldn’t wish what happened to me to happen to anyone.

“Do you know her name?” I ask. Something inside of me wants to help, which means it’ll gnaw at me until I figure out how I can.

“I saw Caleb recently, and he told me her name was Alisa,” Adira says.

Shutting my eyes, I struggle to breathe. There’s no fucking way it’s the same girl as Bret’s new playtoy, right? The universe would seriously be fucking with me if it was.

Most of us use a stage name at Slick Dreams, but Linus didn’t. It’s clear in the way he introduced himself that it’s his real name. Also, it’s possible that Alisa didn’t either.

I’m just having such a hard time after making the connection after she threw me under the bus in order to gain some respite. Every omega under Bret’s tender “care” has had a rough life, but she was vicious.

My ass gives a phantom pain, and I sigh. Fuck my life and the full circle of karmatic play. I can’t stay silent about this, or I’m no better than she is.

“You’re shaking. Quinn, what did I say?” she asks.

“There was a newer girl named Alisa at Slick Dreams,” I explain. “A lot of us used stage names or our previous masters would change them to hide us. I don’t know if it could be her, but she’s in her early twenties.”

“Holy shit,” Adira mutters. “Don’t say a word to Theo about this. But I think you need to meet Caleb and Lars.”

“What are you not saying, Quinn?” Cian asks, sounding worried. It’s the sound of someone who’s a decent father, and good at reading the room.

God, I hate speaking badly about someone who clearly had few choices at the time. Bret used Alisa hard, forced her body to betray her with toys while he worked her like his little whore. He rarely closed the door, which meant everyone could see her body writhing as she worked thick, knotted dildos into her pussy.

Sometimes, your body can no longer tell if it wants something. As long as there’s a heated stare, alpha pheromones in the air, you’ll slick for their pleasure. I think it has something to do with survival for omegas as well.

Taking a deep breath despite not needing it to speak, I write out my thoughts.

“Alisa was Bret’s playtoy,’ I begin. “He always has a favorite to fuck, and that omega always has a rough time of things until he moves on. She needed a break, so she told Bret I was being lazy.”

“And?” Adira asks, her voice a touch shrill.

“He punished me in front of the entire club using one of his guards, because he would have killed me. Then, he invited others to hit me with the various impact items that were out,” I explain. “It got worse afterward. Linus got in Alisa’s face later. I remember thinking how I would never consciously hurt someone like that.”

The car is silent as we pull into my father’s driveway.

“I have a feeling things were worse than you described,” Adira rasps. “I wouldn’t think less of you, Quinn, if you wanted to pretend you didn’t know her. How you behave in your worst moments is a reflection of your character. I truly believe that.”

Evan remains seated in the driver seat, showing no hurry to get out, as I contemplate that. While there’s some truth to that, long-term misery can corrupt a person’s soul. There are many variables to the human condition.

“It’s one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had while at Slick Dreams,” I admit. “A lot of the omegas disliked me because Bret protected his cash cow. If he knew things were going to be rough at the club, he’d have me dance. Having me accidentally killed during an alpha’s rut would have been unfortunate for him.”

Evan finally twists in his seat, and I can see the anger in his eyes.

“Unfortunate for him, huh?” he growls. “I want to fucking kill everything right now. This is just absolutely insane to me. Aisling had some trouble with a pack after they were doxxed as sex traffickers to their employers and lost everything, and I thought that was bad. This is monstrous.”

“It is,” Cian sighs. “It’s why Adira and I are trying to make the mafia families realize this could happen to anyone. The old men we deal with think it’s only omegas who are out late at night, but Quinn is living proof that it isn’t.”

“Even if it did happen twenty years ago and was planned,” Adira mutters. “I was beaten up while on my way home from work. Did I deserve it because I was out late?”

“Absolutely not,” Cian grunts. “We’ll force them to give in to our plans. Groups of four or five people patrolling isn’t a bad idea.”

“Why would people give up their time for that?” I ask.

“Because it could easily be anyone they know instead,” Cian answers. “Let’s get this shit show on the road, Evan.”

As if being pulled by strings, he turns around and gets out of the car. I can see the front door opening as if to see what’s taking so long, and my father’s lumbering shadow appears in the driveway. It gives me a feeling of foreboding, which I immediately attempt to shake off.

I need to be at my best.

Putting away my tablet, I follow everyone out the same door when Evan opens it. I could wait, but I want to stay as close as possible with everyone. Fuck, the anxiety feels like an infection as it claws up my veins. I can’t let it win.

“Took you long enough,” Dad growls as I rise from the sedan. Ignoring him, I walk with Cian and Adira toward the front door.

The soft snick of the car door shutting behind us sounds, and when the other remains open, I immediately feel better because Evan is waiting for us to enter. My hearing is working overtime in my hyper vigilance of my surroundings.

“Hello, Hudson,” Cian says politely. “I present to you, Quinn Kelly, your daughter.”

I haven’t seen him in twenty years due to his own actions, I may as well be introduced to him as the stranger that I am. While it may be petty, this is part of the plan: to slowly build the fire of my father’s anger until he blows up in front of his peers.

The only snag in this plan is making sure I don’t leave the room without supervision so that he can’t hurt me. His hands are already fisted, his teeth grinding together in annoyance and fury. It’s really too bad that his tells are just as obvious now as they were when I was a child.

I just didn’t know how awful he was back then. I don’t think anyone did.

“That’s rich,” Dad mutters. “Hello, Quinn. Are you enjoying time with your mother?”

I give him a confused face as if I don’t know what he’s talking about. No one ever told him where my mom was, and it was never caught on the camera because of the looped footage. Dad will be able to figure that out due to the way the cameras never picked up his car entering the gates, but it can’t be proven.

I can play a dumb blonde very well when needed.

“Your hair looks awful, by the way. How am I going to get you packed up now?” he complains.

“The paperwork stating Quinn is part of Pack Kelly has already been signed and submitted to the Healthy Pack Organization,” Cian says. “They’re a matter of public record, as is her name change. Her attendance here is a matter of familial respect. We can leave now if you’re not going to lend the same energy in return.”

God I love this fucking man. It’s sad how much I wish he was my father instead. Cian refuses to back down, while never actually being rude in return.

“She’s my daughter,” Dad grumbles, pushing the door open wide. “We may as well get on with this dinner.”

Inclining my head to acknowledge him, I decide to push the envelope. Stepping forward, I watch as he flings his arm in my way, and I barely manage not to run into him.

“Is it really true, girl? You can’t fucking talk?” he asks.

I shake my head, because out of everyone, he doesn’t deserve to hear my words. My tongue feels so thick in my mouth, I doubt I’d be able to get a word out anyway. Anxiety definitely affects my ability to speak at all.

Maybe some time I’ll get my voice back, but until then, I’ll work around it. It’s also going to piss my father off.

“If you were going to come back at all, the least you could do is be whole,” he grunts, turning to walk inside.

The words don’t even sting, because I’m realizing he doesn’t have as much power over me as he used to, now that I’m seeing him in the flesh. I no longer want to bend over backward to keep him happy. My previous worries about my appearance fade away. I hope he hates my goddamned hair and dress. I hope it tears at him and gives him indigestion, too.

With my head held high, I walk into the house with Cian and Adira following closely behind me. Once we’re inside and the door is closed, they walk right next to me as I trail behind the spoiled alpha who is used to getting his way.

Everyone is seated in the sitting room as I walk in. There’s so many alphas, I feel dizzy at the sea of pheromones.

“Holy hell,” Adira whispers. Cian turns to face her, and she shakes her head. “Quinn and I are going to need two seconds. Stall?”

He looks mildly confused, but he nods, straightening.

“It’s my middle name, my dear,” he says, striding in to greet the room.

Adira grabs my hand, leading me back out, and we both take a deep breath of fresh air.

“Fucking alphas,” she mutters, opening her bag to search through it. “I never thought I’d need alpha pheromone blockers again, but here we are. Found it!”

Removing a tiny tin of cream, she makes a face.

“Wash your face really well when you get home, and you won’t have lasting effects,” she explains. “Put a little just under your nose, and it’ll let you think clearly when we go back in. It doesn’t really bother me the way it used to, but since the room isn’t well ventilated, it’s potent. Hurry.”

There’s nothing else to do but follow her instructions, because I can’t function in that room without some space from the scents. The cream doesn’t necessarily feel like anything and blends really well, as is evident as Adira quickly checks our appearances. Tossing everything back into a Mary Poppins-like clutch, she turns and walks back into the room with me on her heels.

“Here they are,” Cian says with a smile, though there’s a question in his gaze as to whether we’re alright.

Taking an experimental breath together, Adira and I nod. I can’t smell anything at all. It’s a welcome reprieve from how overwhelming it was before. I need to ask her why she even has that cream, since it’s not something someone would typically carry around.

Thank God for it though. I don’t have any tolerance for alpha scents, not in this large of a group. Without the blockers, I wouldn’t be able to handle refusing to do something, because my omega instincts make me want to please an alpha. It doesn’t matter if they’re my mate or not.

I won’t sleep with them, that’s a choice I can safely say, but it would be more difficult to deny a request. Alpha barks are going to be the hardest even now, however, I doubt someone will use it on me in polite company.

It’s an open invitation to be stabbed. While I don’t care about getting blood on this dress, I would like to report back to my pack that everything went smoothly.

“The strap of my heel was coming undone, and I needed some help,” Adira says with a small shrug. Thankfully, she’s wearing strappy heels compared to my pumps. It’s a lie that fits here.

The men look as if their eyes are glazing over by how inane that is, and I smile on the inside. Please, underestimate the women some more.

LINUS

I’m fuming with anger, and I plan to use that in my performance tonight. I barely spoke to Callum or Duncan on the way to work, but only because I don’t want to think about Quinn being at her father’s home.

He sold her, and she is just waltzing right back into his life.

So as I step into the cage tonight, I lose myself to the music. I give it everything, twisting, flipping, and hanging off the roof of the cage. I’m nothing more than a vessel for my worry and rage, and I need to purge it.

I won’t be my father. He was always pissed off and angry whenever I saw him. I know I can’t put Quinn in a bubble, but I hate that I can’t be there to protect her.

It’s always been her and me, and tonight we’re separated. I think that’s why I’m so mad. She’s alone.

I’m sweating by the time I step out of the cage. Cerenity could tell I needed to work some shit out, and suggested I not come out until I felt a little calmer. So as dancers were changed out in the cages, I didn’t signal that I was done until the last of the dancers for the night were going up.

That means I danced for two hours straight. My hair is plastered with sweat, my heart is racing, but I feel better. It’s going to be fine. I’ll see Quinn and tell her how much I love and adore her when she gets home.

My steps are slow as the girl who works the mechanics for the cages hands me a bottle of water.

“The boss said you should drink this,” she says, bemused. “You’re something else when you dance. I think everyone in the club lost their minds. People stayed on the dance floor longer as they watched you from below, and I think everyone who bats for the other team is currently bi-fluid.”

Her words make me choke on my water as I swallow and shake my head.

“Oh my God, I wasn’t expecting you to say that,” I gasp.

Her midnight black hair is up in a high ponytail with streaks of purple, and she grins back at me. She’s a different person than who has been here other nights, but she manages the routine easily.

“I live to surprise people,” she says happily. “Here’s Trigger to walk you back.”

The beta stops next to her just as she ends her sentence, and I nod at him. I love how well everything works here. Cerenity really does run a tight ship, and I’m grateful for it. The club is huge, there are throngs of people dancing, chatting, and drinking. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle getting back to the dressing rooms to hang out until Callum and Duncan come to pick me up without being stopped.

It’s safer this way.

Walking together as people party on a Tuesday night, they seem to part in the wake of my guard. His face said ‘move the fuck out of the way,’ and everyone knows they’re escorting dancers back and forth. I’m wearing the same outfit tonight as I did the first night, which identifies me as a dancer as well.

“Linus!” a voice yells, making my legs freeze.

I know that voice. What the fuck is he doing here?

Trigger doesn’t immediately realize that I’ve stopped, and the crowd swallows me as I turn in a slow circle, looking for the slightly accented voice. The dark brown hair is all fucked up as he comes into view, his amber brown eyes swimming with intense emotions.

How the fuck is this possible?