Only then do I let the full force of my grief overtake me.
Sobs rack my body, making it hard to breathe, hard to see the road through my tears. I pull over to the shoulder, unable to drive safely in this state.
I bury my face in my hands and cry for what might have been. Even though I kept refusing their marks, I had hope in my heart that we would become a family. I thought love was growing between us during these intense days of my heat.
The worst part is, I understand Kieran’s reaction. If someone told me their mother had killed my dads, would I be able to look past it? I don’t know.
This hurts. It hurts so bad. Fuck my life.
Eventually, my sobs subside enough that I can drive again. I feel hollow as I drive.
When I finally pull into my apartment complex, I sit in the car for several long minutes, unable to summon the energy to move. What’s the point? My apartment will be cold, empty. No pack waiting for me. No alphas to hold me, to protect me, to make me feel like I belong.
Finally, I drag myself out of the car, not bothering with my suitcase. I can get it later. Right now, all I want is to crawl into bed and disappear.
I trudge up the stairs to my apartment, keys in hand, when I see a figure leaning against my door. For a wild, hopeful moment, I think it’s Kieran, come to apologize, to take me back.
But as I get closer, I realize it’s Drake, his sandy-blond hair tousled, his green eyes lighting up when he sees me. My heart sinks and soars simultaneously. I’m grateful to see him, but his presence is a painful reminder of what I’ve lost.
“There’s my favorite omega,” he says with a wide grin that quickly fades as he takes in my tear-stained face. “What’s wrong?”
I try to smile, but it’s more of a grimace.
“Hi, Drake,” I say listlessly, moving past him to unlock my door. My hands shake so badly I can barely get the key in the lock.
Drake’s hand covers mine, steadying it.
“Something seems off,” he says, his playful demeanor replaced with seriousness. “Tell me.”
I push the door open and step inside, not looking at him. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
He follows me in, closing the door behind him. Before I can move away, he grabs my wrist and gently pins me against the wall, his body close but not touching mine. The familiar scent of cinnamon and leather surrounds me, making my eyes sting with fresh tears.
“You are not fine,” he says firmly. “Talk to me, Francine. What happened?!”
The warmth of his body so close to mine, the genuine concern in his eyes…it’s too much. The dam breaks, and fresh tears spill down my cheeks.
“Kieran rejected me,” I choke out between sobs. “As an omega. As Nora’s nanny. Everything.”
Drake’s expression darkens, his jaw clenching with anger. “Why? What happened?”
I take a shuddering breath, preparing myself to lose Drake too once he knows the truth.
“My mother was the arsonist who killed your parents,” I whisper. “I didn’t know until recently, but Kieran found out today.”
Drake goes very still, his eyes widening with shock. For a long, horrible moment, I think he’s going to walk out too. To reject me just like Kieran did. I wait for the disgust, the anger, the inevitable withdrawal.
Instead, he cups my face in his hands and kisses me.
His lips are warm, insistent, moving against mine with a passion that takes my breath away. It’s not a heat-driven, desperate kiss like the ones we shared during my cycle. This kiss is softer and full of love.
When he pulls back, his eyes are fierce with determination. “You are not a killer, Francine. None of this is your fault.”
A sob escapes me, relief and disbelief warring within my chest. “But my mother?—”
“It's not you,” Drake interrupts firmly. “You didn’t set that fire. You didn’t kill anyone.”
I swallow hard, pulling away slightly. I need him to understand the full weight of what he’s dismissing so easily. “It’s over, Drake. Kieran made that clear. It’s his decision.”
