An unexpected laugh bubbles out of me. Just a few weeks ago I was terrified I'd never feel safe again, never trust anyone again, and never be anything more than the broken thing Vincent made me. And now I'm here with Alphas who are mine, who want me, and who make me feel like I belong somewhere for the first time since everything fell apart.
"Come on," Hunter says, already shifting to stand, bringing me with him. "Shower first, then we tackle the kitchen. I call dibs on our Omega.”
Silas and Wyatt groan as Hunter lifts me into his arms and heads toward the attached bathroom. I catch Silas’ words just before Hunter closes the door and it puts a smile on my face.
“Needy bastard.”
Amelia
A week has passed since my heat ended, since Vincent was dragged out of this house in handcuffs. Seven days of learning how to exist in a world where I don't have to constantly look over my shoulder quite as much, where I can breathe a little easier, where I'm surrounded by people who actually care about me instead of using me.
The adjustment hasn't been easy. My heat ended cleanly with no lingering symptoms, but the psychological aftermath is harder to shake. The house still doesn't quite feel like home yet,not with the memories of that day haunting certain spaces. The kitchen especially. Every time I walk in there, I pause for just a moment, my eyes tracking to the spot where everything fell apart, where everything could have gone so wrong.
But it's getting easier.Slowly. Because I'm not dealing with it alone. I have people to lean on now. My Alphas, Dylan, Maddox, even the kids in their own way. It's different from how Dylan helped me before. He was my safety net, my protector, the one who caught me when I fell. But this is something else. This is being part of something, being woven into the fabric of a family instead of just being held at the edges.
I still space out sometimes, lost in memories of Vincent's voice, his hands, his threats. I still find myself looking over my shoulder when I'm outside, expecting to see him there. But every time I do, one of my Alphas is there to remind me that he's not coming back. He's locked up. He's never getting out.
There haven’t been any nightmares yet, which surprises me. But maybe it's because I don't sleep alone anymore. There's always someone there, an Alpha's arm around me, the sound of steady breathing, the scent of pine or rain or citrus keeping the darkness at bay. And they have no problems keeping the lights on, letting me figure out how to deal with all of this slowly and at my own pace.
Right now, I'm curled up on the couch next to Hunter, my body tucked against his side like I belong there. Because maybe I do. Maybe I'm starting to believe I do. My feet are stretched across Wyatt's lap on my other side, the Alpha absently massaging my arches that has me boneless and content. Silas is on the floor with Riley and Isaac, all three of them building an elaborate tower out of blocks that Isaac keeps knocking down with delighted giggles every time it gets too tall.
The scene is so perfectly domestic, so normal, that sometimes I have to remind myself it's real. That this is my life now. That maybe I get to keep this.
But I'm still confused about the report Dylan gave me two days ago, the manila folder full of documents that I've read through at least a dozen times trying to make sense of everything. The entire rap sheet of issues that Vincent was responsible for, except his name wasn't even Vincent. It was Marcus Richardson. And according to the police records, he'd done this to at least three other Omegas before me.
Different cities, different names, same pattern. Get close to a vulnerable Omega, isolate them from their support systems, and then systematically break them down until they're too terrified to leave. Two of his previous victims had restraining orders against him under different aliases. One had disappeared entirely, and the police suspected foul play but could never prove anything.
I could have been the one who disappeared. The thought makes my stomach turn and makes me want to curl tighter into Hunter's solid warmth.
He's going to jail for a long time, Dylan assured me. Not just for what he did to me, but for the pattern of abuse across multiple jurisdictions. The breaking and entering during my heat was just the final straw, the mistake that finally got him caught. With all the evidence compiled, he's looking at decades behind bars.
However, I’ve been sitting on this information for too long and now, I need to talk about it. I need to process it with someone who'll understand the weight of what I learned.
"Hunter," I say quietly, my voice pulling his attention from the book he's been half-reading. "Can we talk? About Vincent? About the report?"
His body tenses slightly, before he relaxes and he nods. "Of course. What's on your mind?"
I sit up, pulling my feet back from Wyatt's lap. Both Alphas are watching me now, their full attention focused on me in that intense way that still sometimes makes me feel overwhelmed. Silas glances over from where he's playing with the kids, reading the shift in atmosphere.
"I just keep thinking about it," I start, my hands twisting together in my lap. "About how his name wasn't even real. How he did this to other women. How one of them just vanished and they think he..." I can't finish the sentence because I don’t want to say out loud what almost happened to me. And even though my voice is too quiet for the kids to hear, it feels even worse saying it here.
I blow out a heavy breath and stand, making my way into the space just before the kitchen. My Alphas follow, finally out of earshot from the kids. Riley looks over curiously but I give her a small smile to reassure her before Silas pulls me against his side.
"You got away, Amelia," Silas says firmly, tightening his hold on my waist. "You survived and came to Dylan. And now, you're here with us."
"Because of Dylan," I tell him. "Because I had somewhere to run. But what if I hadn't? What if I was the one who disappeared?" The tears come before I can stop them, spilling down my cheeks. "No one would have known what happened to me." I thought I was doing well when I first left with Vincent. It was going to be my big moment, my pack,myAlpha. It quickly became a disaster but between being too scared to tell Dylan what was really going on and believing I could fix it… I stayed. And one more night with Vincent could have very well been my last.
Hunter steps up against my back, settling his hands on my waist. "But youdidn't. You're here. You're safe. And thatmonster is going to pay for what he did to you and everyone else."
"He’s easily going to be in there for decades," Wyatt says quietly. "Dylan has been in close contact with one of the detectives on the case and with everything in that file your brother gave, the judge will basically throw the book at him especially since he was in law enforcement with a fake name."
I nod against Hunter's chest, trying to let that sink in and believe it. "It's just a lot to process. Knowing I wasn't the first and that there were others before me, and he did this to all of them. How many more would there have been if they hadn't caught him?"
"That's not on you to carry," Silas says gently. "What he did, what he might have done, that's his burden, not yours."
"I know," I whisper. "I know that logically. But emotionally..."
"It'll take time," Hunter says, his hand stroking through my hair. "Healing doesn't happen overnight. But you don't have to do it alone."
