From Rhosyn’s side, Siggy breaks away, stepping carefully toward the newcomers. Stopping just short of them, she speaks softly. “I’ve been where you are,” she tells Elio, who still hasn’t been able to lift his gaze from my boots. “I know how scary alphas can be, but those two, Rennick and Canaan, they won’t let anything touch you. They’ll keep you safe.”
“You…” Elio rasps, the word catching in his dry throat. Beside him, Hattie tilts her head, also listening to what my young pack member has to say. “You were brought here too?”
Siggy shakes her head, her features darkening as cruel memories tug at her. “Not exactly. I escaped from where I was being held, and I ran until I didn’t think I could anymore. I found Noa. She’s been helping me feel safe ever since.”
Pride swells through me for both of them. For Siggy’s bravery, for Noa’s endless compassion.
Something in her words breaks through the tension. Elio and Hattie both ease marginally, enough to let Seren herd them toward the manor. Siggy joins, offering her presence as proof they aren’t alone.Canaan and I step aside, giving them a wide berth when they draw close.
Seren offers us a grateful look as she ushers them inside.
“We’ll get you both settled and checked over inside,”she says, guiding them up the painted porch steps. “How about something warm to drink? We’ve got lots of options. Just know, if Siggy here is in charge of hot chocolate, you’re getting mostly whipped cream and tiny marshmallows.”
“It’s the best part!” Siggy fires back, her voice fading as they vanish inside.
The rest of us stay back and Noa steps forward, addressing the human man. “I thought your message said three omegas.”
His mouth twists. He nods, but the change in his demeanor has my wolf bristling. “It did.”
Noa frowns but follows the man to the back of the van when he motions her to follow. He swings the doors open, the metal blocking my view. Then comes her gasp, sharp and strangled. It splits the air, and familiar dread has me moving to her side before I even register I’ve lifted a foot.
The sight stops me cold.
Rhosyn and Canaan close in behind me, their bodies also going rigid.
“Is that afuckingdog crate?” The question scrapes out of my throat like it’s made of razor blades and rage boils in my blood.
A dark-brown-and-black she-wolf lies curled on her side in the wire cage. For a beat, dread spikes within, and I fear she’s already gone. But then I catch it, the way her rib cage expands with a steady breath. It may be dark out here on the street, but there’s no mistaking the truth of her condition. The omega’s body is wasted down to nothing, her bones jutting sharp beneath a dull, matted coat. She’s far too small, even for omega standards.
“The people who pulled her and the others out of that hellhole didn’t have a choice. The poor thing is bordering on feral,” the human tells us. The heartbreak in his voice eases something in me, as if it’s the proof I needed to know he’s not secretly a sadist who gets off on this. “They had to sedate her. For her safety and everyone else’s. According to the others from that same facility, she’s been trapped in this form for months. No one knows what triggered it. They just know those sick fucks enjoyed the hell out of trying to force her to shift back. Nothing worked. No matter what they did to her…”
Noa sways on her feet at the sight. Her back brushes against my chest, and instinct has me reaching for her before I can think better of it. My fingers curl gently around her upper arms, steadying her against my front. She startles, but to my relief, she doesn’t pull away.
“It’s a protective measure.” Her explanation full of pained empathy. “Her wolf has taken over and is shielding her human mind from what was happening. If it’s been going on for as long as you say, I doubt her human half is even conscious of her surroundings anymore.”
Rhosyn sounds heartbroken from where she stands with Canaan, “Her wolf sacrificed herself to protect her.”
Whether it was her wolf who bore the torment or her human side, it never should have touched her in the first place. Omegas are meant to be cherished, protected, not broken for sport.
Silence settles over us until the human breaks it. “What do you want me to do with her? Do you have a place I can help move the cage to?” he asks, sounding grim. “I don’t think taking her out of it yet is a good idea. For her or anyone.” From his sweatshirt pocket he produces a vial and a few orange-capped syringes. “Here’s more sedative in case she wakes up and decides you’re her new enemy.”
Before any of us can respond, a voice none of us expects to hear comes from the other side of the street. “I fear we may need it.”
We turn as one.
Emerging from the shadows is the High Priestess herself. Still dressed in her now soot-stained funeral whites, the floor-length dress and shawl catch what little light there is and nearly glow against the darkness of the night. My wolf bristles, unsettled that she managed to come this close without stirring any of my senses. I have to remind him, and myself, that this witch can bend wind itself and uses her gift to mask her scent and silence her steps.
“The drive isn’t terribly long, but it will be easier for her if she sleeps through it.” Amara closes the distance between us and takes the supplies from the human’s hand with steady movements. She pauses and her sharp, birdlike eyes sweep over the unconscious she-wolf within the cage. Her sorrow for the girl is impossible to miss, even behind her stoney expression.
When she turns to us, she is once again the formidable figure I first met—the woman who stood in the clearing that day and barred my path with a wall of unyielding wind when I tried to follow Noa.Imposing, unwavering. But if I look closely, I can see the fracture lines. It’s the kind of permanent damage I imagine only losing the love of your life can leave behind. The mask of power she wears now is just that. A mask. She’s still bleeding on the inside, but still, she’s showing up for her people.
And for that, I commend her.
Noa moves, slipping from my hands.
“Amara.” She breathes her name in relief. “What are you saying? You’re leaving? You’ve decided to go to Rennick’s territory with the others?”
Amara reaches for her, slender fingers tucking a long, stray lock behind Noa’s ear with a touch that’s almost motherly. “Haven’t you?” she presses.
