The grocery store is quiet,the aisles empty as we wander through. We’re like a couple of teenagers who can’t help touching, brushing against each other at every turn. I lean closer, letting our arms bump and our fingers lace together as if some part of me needs his touch, craves it in a way that’s new and almost overwhelming. Is this how it feels for Chad all the time—like touch isn’t just wanted but necessary?
He carries a small black basket in his other hand filled with breakfast essentials: sausage, bacon, eggs, pancake mix, and orange juice. It’s everything we need for a lazy morning feast. I skip the grits today, even though I usually love them, but I can’t quite get into the mood for them. We stroll slowly, savoring this new closeness, feeling as much at home here in each other’s presence as we do in our nest.
Our nest.
The thought drifts into my mind, so naturally, I almost don’t notice it. But it feels right, sinking in like a secret I didn’t know I’d been holding. My heart skips a beat, and as if he can sense the shift, Chad squeezes my fingers, a subtle confirmation, like he’s reached right into my thoughts and saw what I’m thinking.
We continue strolling down the aisle, his fingers still woven with mine as we share quiet smiles, basking in the ease andwarmth of each other's company. My mind drifts, already picturing us back in the kitchen, filling the space with laughter and the scent of breakfast, like a little pocket of peace that belongs just to us.
Then something shifts. I can’t quite place it at first, but a faint prickling awareness settles along the back of my neck, as if the air itself has changed, charged with something… unfamiliar. Chad’s fingers pause against mine, and he glances over, his gaze sharpening.
“You feel that?” I whisper, trying to brush off the unease with a smile, but it doesn’t quite stick.
He nods subtly, scanning the aisle ahead. "Yeah," he murmurs, his voice low. “Like we’re not alone.”
A chill creeps up my spine as I glance around, but there’s nothing out of place. The store is empty, quiet save for the faint hum of the overhead lights and the distant buzz of the freezer section. But that feeling remains, like a presence lingering just beyond view, watching.
“Let’s finish up and head back,” he says softly, guiding me closer, his arm slipping protectively around my waist.
I nod, leaning into him as we walk to the checkout. The warmth and strength of his arm around me help soothe some of my nerves, but I can’t quite shake the feeling, like shadows watching from the edges of our sanctuary.
We pay quickly, both of us on edge now, and as we make our way toward the exit. Chad’s hand tightens around mine, linking with my fingers again, his thumb rubbing circles against my palm.
“Whatever it is,” he murmurs reassuringly, “I’m not letting anything near you.”
As we step into the parking lot, my eyes dart around, searching for any movement or flicker of someone watching. I try to shake the feeling, but a memory nudges its way forward—Jenny, the alpha that wants Chad, her cold stare fixed on me, as if I had taken something that belonged to her. Her words from that day echo in my head…she’s obsessed, and I wouldn’t put it past her to be following Chad.
I hesitate, my gaze drifting over the rows of parked cars. There’s no sign of her, but the feeling lingers, prickling through me, settling like a lead weight in my chest. I hadn’t seen her since that encounter, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about her. The way she’d watched Chad, like she was convinced he was already hers and I was just a temporary inconvenience, some passing fling she had to tolerate.
But she is wrong. Very wrong.
The bond between us feels unbreakable now, woven far deeper than I could have ever imagined. And maybe there are still conversations ahead—sorting through everything that happened in those days spent wrapped in each other’s arms, drifting between sleep and pure instinct.
None of us could have anticipated it would go this far. Or that I’d present as an omega, reshaping every dynamic we had, challenging everything I thought I understood about myself. Years ago, I’d dreamed of being omega, only to push that wish down until I convinced myself it wasn’t meant for me. Now, that ache flares in my chest, raw and real, knowing how right it feels.
Scent-bound, omega, soul-bound... It’s created something so much more than a simple pack. What we have now is undeniable, layered and complex, something no one—Jenny or anyone else—could ever take from us.
I open the trunk, and Chad sets our bags inside. Just as I reach to close it, strong arms wrap around me from behind. A cloth presses against my face, suffocating me with a scent sharp and chemical. I try to twist away, but dizziness quickly fogs my mind, my vision blurring as dark spots creep in at the edges.My limbs go heavy, the world tilting, until everything slips into blackness.
CHAPTER 46
Chad
Revulsion spikesthrough me as I watch Jenny pacing in front of us, her heels clicking on the cold concrete. I’m bound to the chair, wrists raw from struggling, but if I could break free, I’d make her regret every second she’s spent near us. My heart thunders as I see her fingers trace Lakelyn’s still-unconscious face, her touch light and possessive. It’s enough to make my blood boil.
“You’re little beta isn’t much of a beta anymore, is she?” Jenny murmurs, her voice laced with twisted satisfaction.
I snarl, wrenching against the restraints. “Don’t touch her.”
A flicker of fear runs through me, uninvited but sharp as glass. Lakelyn’s still out cold, too still, and I can feel the edges of panic clawing at me. Clinging to the bond, I scream silently for Mason and Dean, straining to reach them. I remember reading that claiming marks can act like a beacon, a tie that can be felt even over distances, and I cling to that hope like a lifeline. But the bond feels faint, like they’re miles away, just a whisper in the back of my mind.
“Jealous little omega?” she purrs, her voice dripping with mockery.
With a predatory grace, she crosses the space between us, the sharp clicks of her heels echoing in the stillness. My stomach churns at the sight of her approaching, a twisted excitement in her eyes that makes me want to vomit. I brace myself, instinctively recoiling as she reaches out, her fingers brushing my cheek like a serpent ready to strike.
“You’re the only one for me, Chad,” she whispers, her voice sultry and dark. “I’ll do whatever it takes to have you—marks and all. I’ll cut them off your skin if that’s what it takes.”
My stomach twists at her words, a nauseating blend of anger and dread flooding through me as I grasp just how far she's willing to go.
