Laz steps aside, motioning to the entrance. “This way.”
The entire Silverwood Pack is here. Everyone, except Damon, is seated at a picnic table in the middle of the tent, covered with flickering candles and snacks. It’d be the perfect date if the circumstances were different.
Ren jumps up, clutching a bouquet of purple hyacinths. “Faye.” He holds them out. The way he looks at me with such hope is almost too much to bear. “These are for you.”
I keep my arms pressed to my sides.
“Maybe later, Ren.” Cole rises from his seat, sparing me the awkwardness of outwardly rejecting him. He gestures to the table. “Sit down. We really appreciate you coming here to talk.”
Damon stands in the corner with his arms crossed, donning his usual moody scowl. Clearly not everyone appreciates my presence. I refuse to look in his direction, purposefully sitting facing away from him to make a point.
“I’m only here because Sabs tricked me into coming,” I grumble.
“All the same, we’re happy to see you again.”
The atmosphere is unbelievably tense, in direct contrast to the last time I saw them, all cozy and content in the nest. With everyone—apart from Damon—now seated again, it’s strangely formal, like we’re about to start a business meeting.
“It’s come to our attention that Damon didn’t tell you the truth about what happened all those years ago,” Cole begins.
“We want you to know the full story,” Ren adds earnestly.
“I told her what matters,” Damon huffs. “It was my fault.”
“Did you listen to anything I said earlier?” Cole hisses at him through gritted teeth. “You’ve already said enough.”
“Give us a chance to explain properly, Faye,” Laz intervenes. “Then you can choose what happens next.”
“Damon shouldn’t have said what he did, especially while you were in a heat.” Ren adjusts his glasses. “We never wanted you to find out about it like that.”
“She had a right to know,” Damon grumbles.
“She has a name.” I pin him with a glare, surprising myself with my own outspoken courage.
Damon opens his mouth to speak.
“Damon,” Cole barks. “This is your final warning.”
“You’re the one who told me I had to be here,” Damon mutters sarcastically. “But you didn’t say I had to be nice.”
“Ignore him,” Ren implores. “He just doesn’t want to give you all the facts.”
“Because they change nothing,” Damon says flatly.
“We know that Kady’s PI got hold of some police files, but they don’t include everything,” Cole continues. “It’s true that my dad helped cover up a crime, but it’s not the crime you think.”
“The omega who got hurt was an alpha chaser,” Ren adds.
“An alpha chaser?” My shoulders tense. “I didn’t think they even existed.”
“Oh, they’re real,” Laz confirms grimly. “Trust me.”
Alpha chasers are omegas who are so desperate to be claimed that they purposefully trick an alpha into bonding. Their targets are usually wealthy packs—much like gold diggers who marry for money.
I’ve only ever seen movies about alpha chasers before as real-life cases are so rare. Most omegas would never put themselves in such dangerous situations.
“Damon was only eighteen when it happened.” With his elbows on the table, Cole steeples his fingers. “He’d just joined our pack, and the omega who targeted him—Roxanna— used a rutting mist called Ruttcol.”
Everyone’s heard of Ruttcol. It’s illegal and the most potent rutting mist you can buy. When sprayed on an alpha, the drug forces them into a rut. It’s so powerful that it can make an alpha lose sense of himself entirely. It also heightens aggression. A few years ago, Ruttcol had a lot of press coverage after it was used to cause a fight between two rival packs that left everyone dead.
