Page 16

Chapter 16

Freya

With a groan, I roll over and pat the bed, my fingers brushing against the cool sheets where Zane should be. But he isn’t home.

For three days, I’ve watched him leave the house, his lips pressing against mine as he promises me he’ll stay safe. Each time, my heart swells with how much he holds me, but each time, I fear for him as the hours drag on.

Despite his brother being a dick, Zane is mine. But as much as I don’t want to lose him, there is a part of me that knows my time here will end soon. Because as much as Zane feels like mine, and Miller is carving a place in my heart with how considerate and caring he is. Meaning, for the first time in my life, I’ve found two of the kindest alphas I know. Each is always ready with a comforting smile, or sometimes a word in Thorne’s ear when he says hurtful things to me.

Thorne is as prickly as his name.

Though, I don’t blame Thorne. Everything he says about me is true. And he knows it with each look of disdain he gives me. Yet, it’s strange, because considering I’ve offered to leave every single day I’ve been here, he is refusing to let me go.

I wonder where Zane is. I check on Stone, ensuring he’s still peacefully asleep, before leaving the bedroom. The sight of him brings a wide smile to my face, and with one last glance at my sleeping child, I head to the living area.

After looking for Zane and not finding him. I turn on the television and sink into the chair, flicking through the news channels to find out if there’s been a disaster needing the fire service somewhere. And my heart races as an awful heaviness settles in my chest.

This is what Thorne does. I get it now. It’s like I’m waiting to see or hear the worst.

I stop flicking the channels when I see a fire roaring through the hills, flames licking the sky as firefighters tackle the blaze.

My heart pounds hard. My fingers clasp the remote as fear grips me because I know Zane is one of those brave souls fighting the fire.

I press my hand on my chest. Despite the lack of a bond, I can feel the worry coursing through me like an electric current. It’s probably mine.

Footsteps sound behind me. “What are you doing up? It is three am.”

“I’m worried about Zane.”

For a moment, I see Thorne’s hardened exterior fracture slightly as he studies me.

“I go through it every day he works,” he finally admits, his voice losing some of its hard edge.

Thorne settles beside me on the couch. I try to remain calm, but his presence is as unsettling as the flickering fire on the screen.

“We’ve just received confirmation that the fire is under control on the north side.” The news anchor’s voice fills the silence between us. The footage shows the firefighters making progress, the flames gradually dying down.

“Why were you at Club Midnight?” he asks suddenly, his voice low and controlled, like he is trying to stop his alpha from doing something stupid in front of his omega.

“To fuck alphas,” I state in a matter-of-fact way.

He growls. “And whose perfume did you spray on to attract my attention?”

I turn to him, confusion furrowing my brow. “What are you talking about? I didn’t spray on anyone’s perfume.” I laugh as realization dawns on me. “You think I used a perfume to catch your attention?”

His jaw tightens, disbelief clear in his sour expression. “Omegas do it all the time at Club Midnight. The competition is massive there. All alphas know they use synthetic scents to overpower their natural ones. Sometimes to stand out. Sometimes to be more appealing to alphas and—and sometimes to take on another omegas scent.”

“And you think I wore another omega’s scent?” The accusation stings more than it should.

He nods slowly, his features softening slightly. “It’s fine. I understand why you would feel the need to do it.”

I lean forward, anger beginning to simmer beneath my skin. “Do you still think I’m wearing a false scent?”

“I can only smell strawberries on you.”

“Because I’m using inhibitors.”

“Why?”

A breaking news alert flashes across the screen. The ticker reads.

The fire is finally under control on all sides.

Relief floods through me about Zane, but my anger at Thorne keeps building.

“Because until I met Zane, I never wanted anything but a baby. I spent my early twenties being desperate for a pack—an alpha.” My voice trembles as I meet his gaze. He knows he is that alpha, so I give him what he needs to hear. “Maybe I was desperate for you,” I admit, just saying the words taste bitter on my tongue. “But not anymore, Thorne. I never knew your name, by the way. I never stalked you outside of Club Midnight. I wasn’t that desperate for you. And just so you know, I never came here for you. I came here for Zane. You’ll never be the alpha your brother is.” I smile. “And I like Miller, too. And only when I feel safe will I come off my scent inhibitors and let them smell me properly.”

And you, too. But I keep that to myself.

A low growl rumbles in his chest, but I lift my chin defiantly.

I’ve never felt so empowered in my life. I’ve always felt inferior, insecure and put on by everyone before. But never again.

“You think I fear you? But I don’t. I pity you. You think so fucking much of yourself that you think I sought Zane to get to you, don’t you?”

His response is immediate, assured. “You did.”

“You’re pathetic—”

Stone’s cry pierces the air just as I’m about to tear into Thorne.

“Excuse me while I tend to my son.” I push off the couch, leaving Thorne to stew in his arrogance.

In the bedroom, I scoop up Stone, his tiny face red from crying. “Shh, baby. Mommy’s here.” His cries soften as I cradle him close.

When I return to the living room, Thorne hasn’t moved as I expected him to. I thought he would have disappeared to his room, but his presence fills the space, and the air feels charged, like an incoming cyclone.

I settle into the armchair, wrapping a soft blanket around myself and Stone.

Thorne’s gaze follows my movements. “The father will come looking for his child, eventually.”

Stone latches onto my breast to feed.

I meet his stare head-on. “He’ll never find out.”

“Why not? Why don’t you try to find him? Omegas are rare. He’ll take you and the baby in without a second thought.”

“Would you?”

His jaw tightens as he considers. “I wouldn’t be so stupid.”

Laughter bubbles up from my chest. “No? Are you far too careful to do that?”

He narrows his eyes, studying me. “Have we met before Club Midnight?”

Our eyes lock. “You tell me.”

A growl rumbles in his chest. “You’re being bratty.”

“You bring it out of me.” I hold my son against my chest. “Must be your sparkling personality.”

“Most omegas don’t speak to me this way.”

“Most omegas probably can’t see past the good looks, your designer suits, and fancy car.” I grin. “I’m more impressed by kindness.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Like my brother?”

“Exactly like your brother. And Miller.” I wink. “You could learn a thing or two from them.”

“You’re impossible.” But there’s no heat in his words, and that smile is still playing on his lips.

“Part of my charm. You should try it sometime. I prefer being impossible. At least I don’t walk around with a stick up my ass.”

“A stick up my ass?” Thorne’s eyebrows shoot up, but a ghost of a smile plays on his lips.

“Well, if the Armani suits fit...” I shrug, adjusting Stone as he finishes feeding.

“I wear Tom Ford, actually.”

“Oh, my mistake. That makes all the difference.” I roll my eyes. “Does the designer label help with the removal of the stick process?”

He actually laughs at that. The sound is rich and unexpected. “You’re quite something, aren’t you?”

“So, I’ve been told. Usually right before someone runs away screaming.”

“And you’re surprisingly insecure for such a sassy omega.”

I smile. “I’ve been told that too.”

Stone fusses, done with his meal. As I shift to burp him, Thorne leans forward.

“May I?” He holds out his hands.

I blink, tucking my boob back into my top. “You want to hold him?”

“Don’t get up. I’ll take him.” His voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it before. Normally he sounds exactly as he is, a grumpy fucking alpha.

After he takes Stone, I push my legs under my ass and settle back into the chair, watching as Thorne cradles Stone with surprising care. His large hands support my son’s tiny body with meticulous precision.

“Strange,” he murmurs, studying Stone’s face. “He looks just like the photos I have of Zane when he was a baby. I’ll show you them sometime.”

My heart skips a beat. “Oh?” I force a laugh. “Well, all babies look alike, don’t they? My sister and I were identical as infants. Now she’s this gorgeous blonde goddess, and I’m... well, the plain one.”

“You’re not plain.” The words come quickly, almost defensively.

“Right. That’s why you always bolted when you saw me at Club Midnight.” I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice. “Obviously not up to your standards.”

Thorne’s jaw tightens. “It wasn’t you. Not at first. You just got too…persistent.”

“What do you mean?”

The front door clicks open, and Miller strolls into the living room. He freezes, his eyes darting between Thorne, holding Stone and me curled up in the armchair.

“Well, this is...unexpected.” Miller loosens his tie. “I need a glass of red. Either of you want one?”

I shake my head, and Thorne declines with a grunt, still cradling Stone.

“There’s something you should know,” Thorne says, his voice dropping low. “Years ago, at Club Midnight, I caught a scent. She was my scent match. It wasn’t the first time I smelled her.” His eyes cloud over and my heart thuds as he remembers his memory. “My alpha was clawing to get out, desperate to find her, and I did—briefly. But then I got the call about my father having an accident. I had to leave, even though everything in me screamed for me to stay.”

My chest tightens as he continues.

“I went back countless times, searching. For a year, nothing. It nearly broke me. I was so close to finding her. So close to finding my omega.”

My heart slips lower in my chest. All this time, I thought he was mine, and here he is mourning a lost omega just as I’ve mourned him.

“What did she look like?” I manage to ask.

“Blonde.”

I force a laugh. “Obviously.”

“It wasn’t her hair color though,” he says, his voice distant. “It was her scent. It was her. We both wore masks that night, but I knew.”

Miller settles next to me, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek.

“Rough day at work?” I ask him.

“It was.”

I grab his hand, holding it tight while Thorne watches us as Stone sleeps peacefully against his chest.

“What are you two discussing?” Miller asks, sipping his wine.

“Thorne’s telling me about his lost omega, and why he doesn’t like me.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like you,” Thorne corrects. “I said you were too persistent in the club. You followed me around like a lost puppy.”

“Because I liked your scent.”

“I’ve been using scent blockers for years,” Thorne says flatly. “I can’t smell you and you can’t smell me.”

“He gave up on finding her.” Miller sighs heavily. “And that’s why he thinks you’re a liar.”