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I want to argue, want to make her understand that whatever she's feeling isn't wrong or dangerous. But I can see that pushing right now will only make things worse.

"Okay," I say quietly. "The library it is."

But as I offer her my arm and she reluctantly takes it, I know this conversation is far from over. Because whether she trusts me or not, whether she wants to admit it or not, she's our omega. And I'm not giving up on her that easily.

Even if it means earning her trust all over again.

We walk in tense silence through the dimly lit corridors, her hand barely touching my arm, like she's ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Her scent is a chaotic mix of hurt, anger, andsomething that might be lingering attraction, and it's making it damn near impossible for me to think straight.

"This way," I murmur, guiding her left at a junction. The route back to the library isn't direct from here, which means we'll have at least ten more minutes of this awkward tension. Part of me is grateful for the time to figure out how to fix this mess. The other part of me wants to find the shortest route possible and get her away from me before I say something that makes things worse.

"You know," Belle says suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade, "I keep thinking about that night. About how safe you made me feel."

I can hear the 'but' coming, and it makes my chest tight with anticipation.

"But now I can't stop wondering if it was all calculated. If you knew exactly what to say and do to make me trust you."

"Belle, that's not…”

"Isn't it?" She stops walking, forcing me to turn and face her. In the dim lighting of the corridor, her eyes look almost silver behind her mask. "You used every single one of my fears against me. You mentioned your military training, your control, your ability to keep me safe. You said all the right things to make a scared omega trust you."

"I said those things because they were true," I say, trying to keep my voice level. "And because you needed to hear them."

"Did I? Or did you need me to believe them?"

The accusation stings because there's a grain of truth in it. I did use my training to calm her, did say exactly what she needed to hear to feel safe. But it wasn't manipulation only because I care.

"You want the truth?" I ask, stepping closer despite the warning in her posture. "Fine. Yes, I used my training that night. I used every skill I had to keep you calm and safe. But notbecause I was trying to manipulate you. Because watching you suffer was killing me, and I would have done anything to make it stop."

Her scent spikes with something complex such as uncertainty. "Why? You barely knew me."

"Because..." I struggle with how much to reveal. "Because something about you called to every protective instinct I have."

She's quiet for a long moment, studying my face. "That doesn't make sense."

"No," I agree. "It doesn't. But it's the truth."

We start walking again, but the silence between us has shifted slightly. Less hostile, more thoughtful. I can smell the way her scent is changing, confusion mixing with the hurt and anger.

"The things you told me about your friend," I say carefully. "About Sarah. That wasn't just you explaining your fears, was it?"

Belle's steps falter slightly. "What do you mean?"

"You were testing me. Seeing how I'd react to hearing about an alpha who lost control."

She doesn't deny it, which is answer enough.

"And when I didn't get defensive or make excuses for him, when I agreed that he'd failed her completely, that helped you trust me."

"Maybe,” she whispers.

"It wasn't manipulation, Belle. It was you being smart. You were protecting yourself, gathering information, making sure I wasn't like him before you let me help you."

"And you just happened to pass all my tests?"

"No," I say quietly. "I happened to be someone who would never hurt you. The tests just proved it."

She's quiet again, but I can smell the way her anger is starting to fade, replaced by hope. It's progress, even if it's fragile.