Page 8

8

Luca

Blake’s face is burned into my memory like a scar that will never fade. The way his breath hitched. The way his lips parted, but no sound came at first, his body frozen in place like if he didn’t move, this wouldn’t be real. His wide, glassy eyes locked onto mine, desperate, pleading, even as the nurse stepped into the room and asked for me.

The moment she spoke, something inside him shattered. His whole body locked up, muscles going rigid, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for me but didn’t know how.

“No,” he whispered at first, the word barely escaping his lips. Then again. Louder. More desperate. Then louder. “No. No, you can’t take him from me.”

I wait for someone to tell me this is a mistake. For someone to step in. For Grayson to cut in, for Maceo to say something, for anyone to tell me this is some kind of sick joke, that the world isn’t cruel enough to take me away from him after everything.

No one says a thing. The nurse’s hand rests against my back as she leads me into the hallway at the officer’s suggestion, telling me this is real. “You’ll be going to Hearthstone,” she says, like it is normal for me to be ripped away from my new family.

Hudson stands there, grinning like the smug bastard he is, like he is enjoying the show, like he is drinking in every ounce of Blake’s panic with a glee that pisses me off. My Omega is breaking, his scent hardening and shifting, tears gathering in his deep brown eyes.

Grayson moves first, reaching for me, his fingers just inches from mine. I feel the heat of him, see the intent in his eyes, the silent promise that he is going to fix this, that he is going to hold me in place and keep me here no matter what it takes. But he never gets far enough to touch me.

“No one can touch him right now.”

Everyone stills, and then a broken plea shatters what is left of the moment.

“Please.” Blake’s voice cracks, a sob tearing from his throat as I twist back around to see him trying to pull the wires from his chest and shoulders, the blankets tangled around him.

I turn to the nurse, my pulse pounding so hard it roars in my ears, drowning out everything else. “Why can’t I just stay?” I force the words out, even as my throat burns, even as my vision blurs at the edges. “Why can’t I stay with the Keller pack?”

The nurse says nothing. I still don’t know her name, don’t know why I am being removed, why Hudson is here, why my own Alpha, the Alpha I chose, can’t touch me.

“But I want to stay,” I whisper, my voice raw, the anguish bleeding into the silence. “Is my word not good enough?”

She just gently pushes me forward, everything else fading away as I turn to grab one last glance of my mates, of Blake and his tortured expression. I feel like I’m falling apart, breaking beyond repair, the fresh bond with my Alpha demanding that I right this. It’s why I break the rules and dash toward Grayson, angling my head up for a kiss I so desperately need.

The tears start before I can stop them, Grayson devouring my lips, strengthening our bond if only for a second before I’m ripped away and guided the rest of the way to the parking lot. The nurse doesn’t seem bothered by my sobs, the officer behind her, almost annoyed that I can’t keep it together. This is almost worse than everything Hudson has done to try and get me back because this time, I feel like I’m losing a part of myself.

“I just want to stay,” I plead with her as we reach the car. “Please. I want to stay.”

She slides the door open, ignoring my pleas and helps me into the seat. “Mr. Ellis, I understand that this is difficult but this is for your safety. At this time, it can not be determined which pack is the right fit for you so Hearthstone will be your home until then.” She pulls out a small vial, dabbing something that looks like oil onto her finger and then runs it across my nose. “This will help calm you.” Everything about her is so fucking clinical and I hate it.

“You’re taking me away from my family.”

“Unfortunately, that isn’t up to me or you to decide.”

The world says that Omegas are precious, that we have rights, but when it comes to moments like these, I feel like I have nothing at all. A sudden exhaustion rolls over me as the nurse closes the door, murmuring a few things to the officer before slipping into the front seat. I’m barely conscious before I notice that someone is in the driver’s seat, their gaze trained on me through the rearview mirror.

The last thing I see before I pass out is the ghost of Blake’s pale face staring out into the hallway as if the world betrayed him.