The question hit me harder than I expected. Where did I want to go? Nowhere. Everywhere. Run. Hide... disappear.
Hell, I didn’t even know where I could go anymore. My chest tightened, and the tears came faster, harder. “I don’t—I don’t know,” I stammered, my voice cracking. “I have no job, no home. No plan. Nothing. I—I was so stupid, Noah.”
I hated how weak my voice sounded, how broken. But the words wouldn’t stop, spilling out like a dam had burst inside me. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
Noah stayed quiet for a long moment. I half-expected him to jump in and tell me I wasn’t stupid, that everything would be okay. But he didn’t. He just let the silence stretch, the weight of my words hanging in the air. I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my jacket, hating how pathetic I felt, how lost.
Eventually, Noah sighed, his voice low. “You’re not stupid, Mylo. You trusted someone. That doesn’t make you stupid. That makes him a coward.”
His words were calm, but there was an edge to them—like he was holding back the full force of what he wanted to say. But even in his anger, Noah was Noah. Steady. Reliable. Everything Chuck had never been.
I sniffed, still wiping at my face. “Well, it sure feels stupid.”
Noah’s lips twitched in a faint smile, but he didn’t push it. “Listen, if you don’t know where to go, why don’t you come with me? I can take you up to the mountains, to the resort my wife’s family runs. I’ll get you a job in the kitchen—comes with room and board. It’s a nice place. You’ll like it.”
His offer hit me like a lifeline in a storm. Room and board? A job? It sounded too good to be true. But this was Noah. He didn’t offer things unless he meant them. He didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.
The logical part of my brain screamed at me to say no, to insist that I figure this out on my own. But the rest of me—the exhausted, broken part of me—clung to that offer like it was the only thing keeping me from drowning.
“Yeah,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, that sounds... thank you, Noah. Really.”
Noah glanced over at me, his expression softening. “Anytime, kid. How many times do I have to tell you? I’ve got your back.”
Those words shouldn’t have made my throat tighten. But they did. The reminder that Noah had my back—that he’d always had it—just highlighted how Chuck, who was supposed to have my back, had completely screwed me over. Well, not just you, that bitter voice in my head sneered. He literally screwed the other omega too.
I swallowed the bitterness, trying to push it down, but it stuck in my throat like a lump that wouldn’t go away. Chuck wasgone. I needed to accept that. Move on. But it wasn’t going to happen overnight. Hell, it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
We pulled into the parking lot of the resort, the mountains looming behind it, casting long shadows in the fading light. Noah cut the engine and glanced over at me. “You want a drink?”
A small, tired laugh escaped me. “Yeah. I think I need one.”
We headed inside, the warmth of the resort’s bar wrapping around me like a much-needed blanket. The dim lighting and rich wood paneling made it feel like we were tucked away from the rest of the world, hidden from everything that had just happened. For a moment, I let myself relax. Just a little.
Noah ordered us both drinks, and I didn’t care what it was. I just needed something to dull the raw ache in my chest. When the bartender slid the glass in front of me, I took a long, slow sip, letting the burn of the alcohol spread through me like a temporary shield.
Noah’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, typing something quickly before slipping it away. “Texted Holden,” he said. “He’ll sort out the job stuff.”
I nodded, grateful but still feeling like my life was spiraling out of control. “You know,” I said after a long pause, “what really bothers me the most isn’t that Chuck ended things. It’s that I didn’t know. I had no idea. He kept me in the dark.”
Noah didn’t say anything, just gave me that look that meant he was listening.
“When I was a foster kid, no one ever told me anything,” I continued, my voice shaky. “I never knew where I was going, what was happening to me. They just shuffled me around like I didn’t matter. Like my input wasn’t important enough to consider. I guess it’s my fault for trusting Chuck so completely. Maybe I was too naive. But... why is that such a bad thing? Why is it wrong to believe in someone?”
I took another long sip of my drink, already feeling the effects of the alcohol dulling the edges of my anger. But it wasn’t enough. Not yet. I gestured for the bartender to bring me another. If there was ever a day to get drunk, it was this one.
Noah shifted in his seat, glancing around before leaning in slightly. “Look, if you’re going to be staying here for a while, there’s something important you should probably know.”
I frowned. “Something important?”
“Yeah,” he hesitated. “It’s about the mountain... and most of the people who live here.”
Before he could explain, the door swung open, and I felt the air shift. It was like the entire room held its breath for a moment as a tall, broad alpha strode in. His presence was commanding without even trying, and I knew immediately this had to be Holden—the alpha Noah had mentioned.
But what really caught me off guard wasn’t just his size or his confidence. It was his scent. That warm, woodsy alpha scent hit me like a punch to the gut. I’d never reacted like this to anyone before. Not even Chuck—and Chuck had spent months wondering if I was really an omega because I didn’t seem all that... interested.
But just seeing him, it felt like my chest cracked open, like my soul—or whatever you wanted to call it—reached out without asking. My hand flew to my chest, pressing down like that would stop whatever was happening inside me. My heart was pounding, wild and out of control, and the way he was staring at me wasn’t helping. It was the kind of look that scrambled my thoughts and made my heart do things it shouldn’t.
His brown eyes widened, and he sucked in a sharp breath, like I’d caught him off guard. There was something in his expression—a flicker of recognition or surprise. I couldn’t really tell. But whatever it was, it hit me hard, like an electric shock straight down my spine.
