Shaking my head firmly, I hold her gaze. "Not a word. However, I do want to take you back to our ranch. We've got horses that Dustin trains and lots of space to explore. You can go wherever you want, do whatever you want. The ranch is yours as much as it's ours. No locked doors, no restricted areas, no schedules you have to follow."
"Why did you sign all those papers?" Her fingers twist in the fabric of her dress, a nervous habit, I'm sure. "They won't let you keep me. They'll come for me eventually. They always do it for the bad Omegas."
I force myself to soften my tone, reminding myself she needs gentleness right now, though it doesn’t help much. "I'd like to see them try to take you back. Right now, my only priority is getting you home safe and getting some food in you. Real food, not whatever slop they serve at that place. When's the last time you ate?"
She hesitates, her eyes dropping to her lap. "Um, yesterday morning?"
A snarl rips from my throat before I can stop it. Solana scoots back immediately, pressing herself against the opposite door, her eyes going wide with fear. Dustin grabs my shoulder and physically drags me backward, pulling me away from the car with more force than necessary.
"Kade," he hisses close to my ear. "Get it together.Now."
Dustin moves past me to lean into the backseat. "He's angry at the situation. At the Alphas of Harmony House, but not at you, okay? Never at you."
"I understand."
Looking at her face, I can see that she doesn't understand at all. She thinks I'm just like every other Alpha she's encountered in that place. Dangerous and unpredictable and liable to hurt her if she steps out of line or says the wrong thing.
I know that words aren't enough after what she's been through. She needs to see through actions that we're different, that our home is safe, that she matters as a person and not just as an Omega. Showing her is going to take time and patience and consistency.
Standing up, I start to move back toward the driver's seat when Dustin grins and shoves me toward the backseat instead. The audacity almost makes me snarl at him for the manhandling but then I feel a soft hand on mine. Looking down, I see Solana hesitantly taking my hand, her fingers barely touching mine as if she's afraid I'll reject the gesture.
She whispers something to herself, so quietly I can barely hear it over the ambient noise of the parking lot. "You're a good Alpha. You're a good Alpha. You're a good Alpha."
The words are a mantra, repeated over and over as if she's trying to convince herself of a truth she desperately wants to believe but doesn't quite trust yet. It sounds like she's hoping with everything she has that this will be different.
My heart eases a little bit at the contact, at the fact that she's trying despite her very legitimate fear. "Yes, Solana. I am."
Chapter nine
Solana
I hold onto Kade's hand as tightly as I can for the rest of the ride. My fingers are wrapped around his, squeezing hard enough that it probably hurts, but he doesn't pull away, occasionally rubbing his thumb across my knuckles in slow, soothing circles.
I wasn't scared of him. Not really. I was scared of the situation, of what his words might mean, of whether I could trust this sudden change in my circumstances. But his scent calmed me in an almost contrasting way to Dustin's.
Dustin's scent was carefree and made me feel alive, like sunshine breaking through clouds after weeks of rain. Kade's scent felt safe and solid, anchoring me to the ground. It felt like home, like nothing could get to me as long as I stayed close to him.
Even if I knew that in a month, Harmony would find a way to drag me back into that hell. The paperwork Kade signed included a mandatory check-in, a trial period to ensure I was adjusting properly. They would come to the ranch and evaluate me, and if they decided I wasn't thriving, they could revoke the placement and send me back to those gray walls and thin mattresses and the constant fear of saying or doing the wrong thing.
Until then, I would believe this promise of a ranch and the happiness their house was supposedly providing. I would let myself hope, even if hope felt dangerous.
The scenery outside the window starts to change as we get farther away from civilization, the buildings growing sparse and then disappearing altogether. More trees appear, their branches creating a canopy over the road. The sounds of traffic fade until there's only the hum of the engine and the occasional bird call filtering through the closed windows.
I’m sure it’s probably peaceful but right now, in the dark, it’s too quiet.
My chest tightens as I watch through the window, the trees growing denser with every mile. I tighten my hold on Kade's hand, my pulse starting to race. Where are we going? How far out is this ranch? What if this isn't a ranch at all but somewhere worse than Harmony House? Somewhere they can do whatever they want without anyone hearing me scream?
Dustin looks at me through the rearview mirror, concern echoing in his expression. He's trying to understand my reaction, to figure out why my scent is souring again.
Tears form in my eyes as panic claws its way up my throat. I start looking around wildly, taking in the enclosed space of the truck. Four walls pressing in on me. Dark-tinted windows blocking out most of the light. The doors locked, trapping me in here.
I let go of Kade's hand and start fumbling at the door handle, my fingers slipping on the smooth plastic. I need out. I need air. I need to not be trapped in this small, dark space.
And then I realize what it is. The truck reminds me of the isolation room. The walls closing in, the darkness, the silence. It doesn't matter that this is a vehicle and not that horrible gray cell. My body doesn't understand the difference. All it knows is that I'm enclosed and trapped and I haven't done anything wrong, but they're punishing me anyway.
I pull at the handle harder, my other hand banging against the window. "Let me out. I'll be good, I promise. Please, I'll be good."
Tears stream down my cheeks as the truck pulls to a stop. The door opens and I practically fall out, catching myself on my hands and knees in the soft grass beside the road. I crawl away from the truck, needing distance from those four walls.
