“None of them will ever be easy to help, Luc,” he says softly. “Not with the fucking OC involved.”
Taking a deep breath, I swallow around the golf ball that’s taken up residence in my throat and rub my hand over my face. Exhaustion fills me, the worry that’s settled in my chest over the last few weeks since Max left curling fingers around my muscles, trying to physically drag me down.
I sigh. “This is way beyond anything we’ve done before.”
“We know that,” Bastien says quietly. “But Max won’t put us at risk. He’s only helping her get the treatment she needs. This shouldn’t come back on us in any way.”
Not intentionally, I know. But it only takes a moment for Max’s actions to come crashing down around us and tear us all apart.
Bastien gets up from the table. “I’m going to work on his background.”
Nik stays where he is, his fingers clenched on the table as I pull up a chair next to him.
“Am I being that unreasonable?” I ask, a tired sigh punctuating my words. “I just want us all to be safe, Nik. And this is the furthest thing from safe that I can think of.”
My packmate watches me, his dark blue eyes seeing too much as always.
“It’s fine to be worried, Luc,” he says quietly. “But Bastien is right. We’ve always said that we wanted to help people like Emery.” Nik’s breath hitches on her name, and I look away as he clears his throat. “This omega sounds like she needs help more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“And you’re okay with this?” I ask.
His brow furrows. “Of course I am. How could I not be?”
My chest twists.
“When you put it like that, I feel like an asshole,” I admit, my body slumping back into the chair.
He gets up, resting a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not an asshole, Luc.” His words are soft, but they cut into my chest like knives. “You made this house a home, you know. You kept us together – keptmetogether. I understand why you don’t want to risk that. But what type of pack would we be if we stood by and let shit like this happen?”
A typical alpha pack, that’s what. Rutting, snarling, misogynistic assholes who want omegas for their status, not because they give a fuck about their conditions.
Nik’s right. That’s not the type of pack I want to lead.
Grimacing, I nod in reluctant agreement. Nik squeezes my shoulder before he heads off, leaving me to my thoughts.
I blow out a breath, staring out of the window at the grounds behind our house. The normally green grass is starting to wilt, autumn settling in, although the temperatures are still warm for this time of year. Catching the depleted log pile, I decide to head out and chop some wood, burn off some of my anxiety. For Max, for Nash, for my pack, even for this omega.
As I leave the kitchen, heading into our large living area, my gaze is drawn to the small wooden staircase winding up in the corner. The one we never use. We all try to avoid looking at it, particularly Nikolai. An echo of pain flickers in my chest, the bond reflecting the turmoil Nik won’t admit to out loud. Even the idea of having an omega here, in the space that was meant for Emery…
It makes my chest hurt, and she wasn’t my mate.
That’s not happening. Max is only treating her, nothing else.
Pushing away my morbid thoughts, I head to the main door, the stained glass sending shadows of lights across our wooden floors, I try to ignore the thoughts flitting through my head, focusing on the old tree trunk we’ve been taking in turns to cut up, giving us wood for the winter.
The wind outside is brisk, and I rub my hands on my arms, regretting the short-sleeved shirt I put on this morning. A branch rustles behind me and I pause. The rustling stops and I wander on, a smile tugging at my lips.
Three, two, one…
“Gotcha!”
Little arms wind their way around my neck as a voice shrieks into my ear. I playfully cry out and dramatically fall to the floor, careful not to squash the little boy clinging to me.
High-pitched giggles peal out as I flip Nash over and tickle him mercilessly.
“Noo!” he cries, laughing hard as I lean in to blow a raspberry on his neck. “Uncle Luuuuc!”
Letting out a bark of laughter, I take pity on him and let him scramble up. Nash pulls himself into a sitting position next to me, and I bump his little shoulder gently with mine.
