“After you,” Grason growls softly.
The room shifts around him without anyone saying a word.
I catch Beck’s face as he looks up at Grason. His cheeks are flushed, eyes dark and hungry. The beta looks like he wants to drag Grason down and have his way with him right here on the dining room table, and he’s only barely holding it together out of respect for Cass.
“There’s no need,” Dad glares at Gray. “We’ll see ourselves out.”
He shifts back, and everyone moves. Mom scrambles past Ken and Daniel, heels clicking as she hurries to her pack alpha’s side. She clutches his arm like it’s the only solid thing in the room. Her face is still pale, eyes darting between Grason and Warren as if she’s genuinely afraid one of them might snap and launch across the table.
“I can’t believe you’d let them talk to me like that,” Mom says, her voice wobbling as she turns to look at me. She presses her fingers under her eyes like she’s holding back tears, but nothing actually falls. “I never thought my daughter would sit there and allow her mates to show so much disrespect to her own mother.”
I want to be angry. I know I should be. But I don’t have the energy anymore.
“Don’t waste your breath, Renee.” Ken shakes his head as he stares down at me. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Tansy made her choice a long time ago.” His eyes narrow, but there’s no anger. He’s mocking me. “Being mated isn’t going to change the kind of omega she decided to be.”
The words land, and I stay silent, too drained to fight a battle I lost years ago. I just sit there, hollow and exhausted, watching him lie smoothly to people who have always chosen to believe him over me.
“I suggest you leave now,” Cass says forcefully, slowly rising out of his chair.
“Goodbye, Tansy.” Dad’s gaze lands on me. His tone is controlled, formal, like we’re closing a meeting instead of ending a family dinner.
My gaze drops to my plate, refusing to look any of them in the eye.
Why do I feel so small and stupid right now?
“Tansy?” Pop says my name quietly, but I keep my head down. “I’m glad you’re okay.” There’s something softer in his voice, something that feels almost like regret. “Please, take care of yourself, kiddo.” He doesn't wait for me to answer. He simply turns and follows the others out, Grason not far behind him.
A few seconds later, the front door slams shut, and something inside me gives way.
The room doesn’t feel safe all of a sudden.
It feels too big.
Too loud.
My hands start shaking hard enough that I have to press them flat against my thighs to keep them still. My heart isstill racing, but now there’s nowhere for it to go. No one left to fight. No words left to throw.
I don’t feel victorious or relieved.
I feel wrung out and wrong, like I just ran from something that’s still chasing me.
Thirteen-year-old me curls up somewhere deep inside my mind, small and quiet and terrified. I haven’t thought about Ken this clearly in years. Not like this. Not with his face right there, his voice cutting through the room, his presence dragging memories up by the throat.
I press my lips together, breathing shallow, trying not to fall apart in front of everyone.
Cass feels it.
I know he does because our bond shifts, the steady warmth faltering for the first time since this dinner started. Not breaking. Tightening. His attention snaps fully to me, sharp and focused, like he realized the ground under his feet isn’t as solid as he thought.
“Tansy,” he says quietly.
I flinch at the sound of my name.
His chair scrapes back as he moves closer, kneeling beside me so we’re at eye level. One of his hands comes up slowly, deliberately, giving me time to pull away if I need it. I don’t.
I lean into him without thinking, my forehead pressing into his shoulder as the shaking finally breaks free.
“I’m not okay,” I whisper, the words barely making it out, before I start to cry.
