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DAPHNE

September 9,one year ago

The house is lit up when I arrive and a spark of curiosity flits through me. A dash of hope I can’t quell, even when I know I should.

Maybe they remembered after all.

Even if that’s true, they’re still the same assholes they’ve always been. Who leaves their unbonded omega waiting at a restaurant for over an houron her birthday?My pack, apparently.

I’m not even shocked. The surprise is that after twelve years together and eight years of marriage, I still thought they might do something for me. Show they care. Instead, I got stood up by my packagain.The bar is in hell and I’m begging for scraps.

I’m so fucking tired of fighting for every single thing. This is the last of a thousand cuts. The death of this forsaken relationship and the key to my freedom, because fuck if I stay here for them to tear me down anymore.

The front door opens easily under my hand—unlocked, as always—and a wave of scent pushes out, making me gag. Almost a decade has changed the scents I once loved from mildly unpleasant to downright noxious. Corey’s bergamot isnauseatingly potent now, Jacob’s lemon is so sour my skin burns, and Lance smells more like wilted, decayed flowers than he ever did violet. Every time they come into my nest, I have to soak the sheets in bleach just to rid the space of the smell.Not anymore.

Happy birthday to me.

Slamming the door shut, I kick my heels into a pile that will make Jacob furious, but I’m done caring. Done tiptoeing around his fucking feelings when I’m never allowed to express mine.

The farther in I get, the more I see it. This place isn’t a home, it’s a status symbol full of all the small ways these men don’t care. Priceless artwork lines the walls instead of pack photos. Expensive rugs that itch my feet.Bright lights and cavernous spaces looming over me instead of the darkness omegas crave.Even the nest is too open and uncomfortable to truly feel safe in.

Pack Parker never wantedme.They wanted an omega. I can’t believe it took me this long to realize.

Pretty little liars, my instincts hiss.Worthless alphas.

We can agree on that.

Each step feels final as I make my way into the den. My alphas scatter across expensive couches in their work clothes, ties haphazardly dangling against button ups and drinks in hand. They’re discussing clients again, as if they haven’t just come off a twelve-hour day, all the while completely oblivious to the fact that I’m even here. I bet they haven’t even realized I was gone.

The resentment that hits is a familiar friend. This pack was supposed to be my dream come true.Instead, it’s been a mediocre nightmare.Alphas who don’t understand me. Men who offered pretty promises they couldn’t keep and whispered lies that ate at me like poison.

We’ll bond you after this case.

You’ll have your baby by next year.

Of course, we’ll take you out for your birthday.

Something happens in my chest; a bubbling pressure that makes me wonder if I’m going to explode with rage. Agony. The helplessness of staring down the barrel of a future I know will kill me.

“I’m done.”

Six letters. Two words. That’s all it takes to seal my fate.

The bubble pops and I can breathe again. In fact, I feel lighter than I have in years. The alphas keep talking, ignoring my statement like they’ve ignored my presence, and I hate them for it. Hate them for all they’ve done and so much more that they haven’t.

“I’m done,” I repeat.

The part of me they’ve been slowly killing is coming back to life, desperately clawing her way to the surface.The backbone is new, but it feels so good to stop lying to myself. I’m not happy and none of this is okay.

I need more. Ideservethe life they promised.

Corey frowns as he takes in the pretty dress I stupidly thought would usher in our new reality. Their bites on my neck, their baby growing inside me. Now, I see those things for the shackles they would’ve been, and I may be grateful to these men after all. At least they didn’t trap me here when they had the chance. It’s a small blessing I take with open arms.

“Where’d you go?”he eventually asks, looking just as messy as he always does. Forever trying to be like big brother.

“To Artisan.” I wait for them to get it, sighing when I get more blank stares. “For my birthday.”

Lance is the only one who has the decency to cringe at their mistake. He should, since he’s also the one who set the reservation. “Shit, is that today? We’re so sorry. There was a client issue and…”