“But who told you this? Who made you think you were a bad omega?” Thorne asks. He’s also kneeling so he could look up at her. He mindlessly traces patternson the back of her hand as he asks the million-dollar question.
“It’s not a good story,” she says, and I give her a squeeze in my arms.
“We can handle it, sweetheart,” I murmur.
“I had a Pack before moving to Nashville,” she says, and we remain quiet as she continues. She tells us about her upbringing, the maids, the nannies, and the lack of parenting. How the Fallon Pack interviewed her in her house and then took her the next day. How they hurt her, and after two years, she escaped.
I’m so glad she’s on my lap. I need her weight in my arms. To ground myself as she tells us about the abuse she endured at the hands of that Pack and her parents. I can feel my Pack mates getting heated, but they do a good job of shutting the fuck up and letting her talk. Thorne is biting the inside of his cheek, and Silas is gripping Thorne’s hand.
“Thank you for telling us. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, and I’m so incredibly proud of you,” Silas says, bringing her hand to his lips. “For being so brave and strong and saving yourself.”
“You shouldn’t have had to. But trust, Noa; even if you reject us, for whatever reason, you will never have to save yourself again. I’m so sorry, baby,” Thorne says. He isn’t looking at me, but I can feel through our bond that he’s raging. He’s raging, but there is a deep sadnessin him, and I know this is crushing them as much as it’s crushing me.
I should have killed that guy in the damn store right when I felt Noa tense up in my arms.
“Will you move in with us?” Silas asks as she stares at him, tears still streaking down her face and making my heart twitch with pain. “No strings, Noa, I would love for you to be our omega, to be ours, but more than that I need you safe, and you’ll be that here, I fucking promise, baby girl.”
Silas is smooth, convincing, and good at getting what he wants. If he wants his omega to move in, he’ll get her to. It’s a dangerous skill, but one I’m grateful for.
Noa is quiet, thinking over Silas’s words, I’m sure. We are skipping so many steps here, and I hate that we can’t properly court her, but the need to have her safe in my arms, under my roof, overpowers the need to do things the right way.
Right and wrong are once again blurred in my life, and I’m in the middle again. I know right and wrong. Working for the mafia was wrong, but having money to feed and take care of myself was good. Accepting blood money was wrong, but I’d never make enough any other way.
Convincing my omega to move in instead of us naturally coming to this point is wrong. But she’s indanger. This isn’t a normal situation. Someone wanted to hurt her—my omega.
She needed to move in, and I wished things were different.
But here I am hoping like hell she’ll say yes.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NOA
The last time I moved in with a Pack, my life became an utter nightmare, and here I am again, moving into another Pack house.
Despite my fears, I feel it down to my bones that this is different. The Gray Pack is everything the Fallon Pack was not, and I can’t put my past trauma on them or their character, as much as my mind begs me to.
I said yes to moving in. That was two hours ago. After going to my house and stopping by Ollie’s Pack house, I show back up at the Gray house, with a tote bag and my best friend in tow.
“Hey.” Silas glances Ollie’s way. After telling her I was moving in, she demanded she help me settle in, and I couldn’t turn her down.
As much as I love the Gray Pack, as much as I know they won’t hurt me, I needed her support.
Luke wanted to come too, but the stairs are too much for his casts.
“This is your room. The nest is right next door, if you wanted it, but we figured you'd want some space to call your own first.” Silas’ looks everywhere but at me. He’s scratching the back of his head as he opens the door. My usual cool alpha is now shy, and I can’t help the warmth that blooms in my chest for him. Oh, he’s so darn cute.
“Thank you,” I say, stepping into the room. White walls, a cream-colored bed covering held within a soft textured frame. There is a TV and a dresser across from the bed, and an armchair on the left side of the room. It’s small, but it’s perfect.
“You can change it; we can paint, get new sheets?—”
“I love it,” I interrupt. It may be a little plain, but I’m not ready to make changes, not yet. Changes mean… changes could mean no going back.
If I settle in too deep and they change their minds, they figure I’m not the perfect omega they swear me to be. It’d hurt a thousand suns more when they kicked me out.
The bed frame is divine, though. Truly. I’ll probably keep that.
“I’ll leave you two to settle in. Should we be expecting your Pack, Ollie?”
