Page 46 of Claiming Xan (Shifters of Greymercy #7)

Years Ago…

The night air was muggy, my T-shirt sticking to my skin as the gang and I crept through back alleyways. The half-full moon hung heavy in the sky above, and my inner feline arched his back. My shoes crunched over loose gravel, their bottoms worn thin—just like my soul.

Up ahead, the pack leader, a brutish dog shifter named Jacks, spoke in low tones to his second-in-command. Cara was a short, wiry girl with hair the color of fire. Several of the other pack members trailed along behind. I brought up the rear.

I was their newest recruit, having been kicked out of the orphanage eight months ago when I turned eighteen.

Eight long months of being homeless led me to Jacks’s pack—though it was more of a street gang, really. A bunch of strays pickpocketing strangers and stealing old ladies’ purses. That’s all we really were, when you got right down to it.

I did what I could to fit in with the group. When Jacks said jump, I asked how high. But it was never enough. The man had it out for me. Maybe it was because I was just an Omega, and I needed to learn my place. Or maybe it was because he was an asshole. I didn’t know which.

Tonight, we were technically breaking and entering, launching an assault on some rich guy’s house. Our goal was to steal whatever shiny objects we could grab, then get the hell out of Dodge.

It had my stomach tied up in knots. Snatching people’s wallets was one thing, but breaking in and stealing luxury items? Jacks was out of his mind.

Yet here I was, going along with it. Because I had nothing better to do. Because Jacks said I had to. Because I was part of the pack, and I needed to earn my keep, because, apparently, being on my knees wasn’t good enough for him.

As we approached the small mansion, my eyes widened.

Even in the darkness, it was impressive—a two-story manor whose tall, white pillars gleamed in the moonlight.

They matched the white brick exterior and set off the stone veneer accents.

The lawn was immaculate, bright green and groomed short, with flowerbeds surrounding the property. Even the hedges were perfect squares.

“The Rose Estate,” Jacks said, sounding smug as I sidled up beside him, still staring in awe at the manor. I’d never seen a house so beautiful in all my life. “What do you think, newbie?”

I pursed my lips and glanced over at him. Was that a rhetorical question? Cara looked at me, one brow raised. I couldn’t really tell, so I shrugged it off and said, “It’s nice, I guess.”

“Bet you wish you lived there,” Cara said. “Bet the owner of this place is some smarmy rich Alpha who doesn’t even have to hold down a job. Men like that deserve to be robbed.” She scoffed, tossing her hair.

I frowned but said nothing. Jacks, on the other hand, let out a soft laugh. “That’s for damn sure. Can I pick ‘em, or can I pick ‘em?”

As Jacks gestured us all a little closer, we huddled together and he laid down the law.

“Alright, this is what we’re gonna do,” he began.

“We get in, we take whatever we can carry—jewelry, art, electronics, anything we can pawn off for cash—and we get out. We move fast. No hesitation. If it looks expensive, grab it. Guys like this gotta be loaded. He won’t miss a few items. Besides, he probably has great insurance. ”

My stomach churned. This felt like a bad idea, and it had jail-time written all over it. I wasn’t even nineteen. I couldn’t go to jail.

On the other hand, it would be three-hots-and-a-cot. Someplace away from Jacks and the gang. Off the streets, with a roof over my head…

Don’t think like that, I told myself. That isn’t what you want.

“Cat.” Jacks reached out and grabbed a hold of my shirt collar, yanking me closer. I nearly stumbled into him before righting myself. His bushy eyebrows narrowed dangerously in a glare. “Listen up. I want you to scout out for bedrooms. Look for valuables. Rings, watches. Jewelry boxes. Got it?”

I nodded quickly.

He growled under his breath, “Don’t fuck this up, cat.”

Cara got busy picking the lock on the front door, and when it creaked open, the rest of us carefully crept inside. I held my breath, awaiting the shriek of a tripped alarm system. None came. Just a deep, steady silence and the thump-thump of the pulse whooshing between my ears.

All around me, my packmates leapt into action. Jacks’s words rang through my mind. A bedroom. I needed to find a bedroom. This place was massive. I could easily get lost here.

Swallowing around the lump of nerves wadded in my throat, I slipped through the darkness. I walked quietly down the halls, careful where I put my feet.

The further I got from the group, the quieter it became, but I found a line of rooms down the east hall. I held my breath and opened one of the doors. I peeked inside, keening my ears.

I didn’t hear the sound of breathing. That was a good thing, right? It meant I was alone. I slipped inside, sealed the door behind me, and began searching for anything valuable. Shinies, as Jacks called them.

With each breath, my heart beat faster and harder. My gaze scanned the small room, landing on an antique wooden jewelry box. It sat upon a dresser with a large mirror on the back. My reflection stared back at me. I looked like a ghost of myself—wide-eyed and haunted.

I rifled through the drawers of the box. Inside were necklaces and bracelets, bands of gold and silver encrusted with gemstones and diamonds. I gathered them in my hands and stuffed them in my pockets, taking as many items as I could find.

Fear gripped my heart in a vice. All I could think about was getting caught. Afraid that the owner of the house would wake up and hear all the commotion, and he’d come downstairs, and we’d all be done for.

As if summoned by my thoughts, a loud crash sounded from down the hall. I jumped and spun around in time to hear someone shout. Barely a heartbeat later, alarms began to shriek. They were deafeningly loud, and my mind went into panic-mode.

My heart ratcheted up into my throat, choking me as I flung the door of the bedroom open and tore off towards the exit. I turned the corner in time to see my packmates hightailing it out of the mansion with armfuls of valuables in tow.

For some reason, I stumbled to a stop in front of the stairs. Something didn’t feel right. The large front picture window was shattered, as if smashed in with a baseball bat. What? Why? I didn’t understand.

Run. Run. Run.

I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly the air was too thick, too viscous.

I took off after Jacks and the gang, my shoes slapping over hardwood, but I never made it to the front door.

A growled voice from behind shouted, “STOP!” and my heart nearly tore out of my chest. Panic gripping me, I spun around to face the cold, hard truth of the situation—I’d been caught.

Standing on the stairs was a tall, willowy man with mussed brown hair and a pistol, pointed at me. Oh god. I choked on my next breath.

I dropped the jewelry I’d been gripping and scrambled back with a cry. It landed at my feet and scattered, rings rolling across the floorboards.

“No, please,” I pleaded, but the gun was aimed right at my chest. I held up my hands and backed away, only to trip over my own two feet. I hit the ground with a soft oof .

The man—an Alpha and the estate owner, no doubt—trained the weapon on me and slowly approached, descending the stairs one step at a time.

I didn’t move.

Outside in the distance, sirens wailed, and my heart dropped into my gut.

Jacks and the gang were long gone. They’d left me behind, the scapegoat. They got what they wanted, and I was conveniently here to take the fall.

It sank in deep, stinging like a blade. I didn’t want to believe it, but… The broken windows? The alarm triggering? This had to be part of their plan.

I blinked back tears, saying nothing. I couldn’t even look up at the man, guilt weighing on me like a sack of bricks.

The police arrived shortly after, immediately placing me under arrest. One of the cops cuffed me and yanked me to my feet. Then he frisked me for anything else I might have stolen, pulling jewelry from the pockets I’d stashed them in.

By the time he finished, I was shaking like a leaf.

“Am I going to jail?” I whispered, barely able to manage that.

The officer, a portly man with reddish-brown hair and a beard to match, huffed a laugh. “Yep, you’re in for a long night, kiddo.”

I hung my head, my chest aching. “At least I won’t have to sleep on the streets tonight,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

I looked up at the other cops, who were speaking with the homeowner. The man Jacks had robbed. Someone who lived a life completely opposite my homeless, always-hungry one.

From where I stood, this Alpha seemed like he had all the money in the world. Good looks. Probably his pick of any Omega he could ever want.

Yet, he was looking at me.

I met his eyes from across the room. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, shaking my head slowly before dropping my chin to my chest.

The cop huffed. “Yeah, yeah.” He grabbed me by the wrists, which were bound behind my back, and pushed me out the front door.

He took me outside and marched me down the sidewalk, to the police cruiser sitting on the curb. Its lights flashed red and blue in the dead of night. He opened up the back door and ushered me inside.

It didn’t matter that my arms were already aching from how tightly I was secured. I had the feeling that nothing was about to matter.

As the officer shut the door, tears began to fall in the darkness.

I was utterly screwed.

Adoring Fletcher: Coming January 2026!