But watching Reverie's face fall slightly—just a small downturn of her lips, a dimming of that bright enthusiasm—makes something fiercely protective flare hot in my chest.
She bounces back so quickly from disappointment.
Always does. But she shouldn't have to.
She should be allowed to be excited about things without people shutting her down.
"So what were you and Nash doing here anyway?" I ask, steering the conversation before she gets too disappointed by Theo's grumpiness. "Besides making viral content that broke the internet?"
Reverie's face brightens again almost instantly—resilient little Omega. Her vanilla-caramel-citrus scent perks up too, losing that slight hint of sadness that had crept in, returning to its normal sweet warmth.
"Nash reminded me that I need to start making content consistently now that the contract with Evergreen Media is official and active. The live stream was completely spontaneous but it worked out amazingly! Hit five thousand viewers!"
She bounces slightly on her toes, enthusiasm returning.
"Plus the original reason we came to Millbrook was to get me some new clothes since I don't really have any proper wardrobe to speak of. Just basics."
She laughs—this nervous, self-deprecating sound that immediately sets off alarm bells in my head.
"I only had three boxes total from my apartment when we moved my stuff this morning, so... yeah. Not exactly much to work with for someone who's supposed to be building a social media brand."
I arch an eyebrow, processing that information and not liking what it implies.
"Only three boxes? For everything you own? Your entire life's possessions?"
She cringes visibly, her shoulders hunching inward in that defensive way that makes her look smaller, more vulnerable. Like she's trying to take up less space.
"Yeah... I don't really have a lot of stuff that's actually mine. Like, truly mine. My previous pack—Kael and the others—they only bought me clothes for specific events and formal occasions when my presence was required. And that was with my own money obviously, not theirs."
She laughs again but it's hollow this time.Empty. Painful.The kind of laugh that tries desperately to make something deeply hurtful seem less significant, less important, less worthy of acknowledgment.
"If it was for a gala, business dinner, or important pack event where appearances mattered, they would just rent formal outfits for me from those fancy boutiques downtown. Return them the next day. More cost-effective that way, they always said. Why waste money buying when you can rent for a fraction of the price?"
My jaw tightens involuntarily.
Snowfall picks up on my sudden tension immediately, shifting restlessly beside me, her muscles bunching beneath her white coat. I consciously relax my grip on her reins before I accidentally communicate distress signals through the leather.
They made her use her own money to buy clothes for their events. Then rented when it was expensive formal wear.Treated her like an accessory they could dress up and put away. But I bet you they were buying clothes and attire that matched their imaginary status and keeping those…
My hands itch to punch something.
Preferably, Kael's face.
Reverie shrugs, trying so hard to play it off like it doesn't bother her, like it's just normal.
"Well, the other girls…the other Omegas who came around sometimes…would get all the shopping sprees and designer wardrobes and new outfits every season. Full makeovers. Professional styling. Everything paid for. Gotta impress the Omegas who come from wealthy families, right? The ones with important connections, business opportunities, political leverage. Investment potential."
Her voice gets quieter, smaller.
"I wasn't really... I mean, I didn't bring anything valuable to the table in terms of family connections or money or social status. My grandfather raised me. He was a mechanic. Good man, but not wealthy. Not connected. So I was just... there. Useful for household management and pack duties but not worth investing in for appearances."
Theo's growl cuts her off mid-sentence—cuts through the air like a knife.
It's deep and rumbling and absolutely furious.
The kind of primal Alpha sound that makes people take several instinctive steps backward, that triggers flight responses in anyone who hears it. I've heard Theo angry before—we served together in the military, I've seen him in actual combat situations where lives were on the line—but this particular growl is different.Personal. Protective.Possessive in a way that speaks to pack bonds rather than just friendship.
Several passersby on the sidewalk actually stop and stare.
