"What you did wasn't correction," Eli cuts in, voice like a blade. "You weaponized her nest. You took the safest place in her world, dragged her deepest fear into it, andthen banned all comfort after. That's not discipline, Ragon. That's cruelty."
The word hangs in the air like a slapped handprint.
In the hallway, Marie sucks in a tiny breath.
Inside, Ragon's silence is worse than shouting.
When he speaks, it's low and furious. "Watch your tone."
"No. I'm done softening this for you. I have treated trauma cases who were less shut-down than she is right now. She's starving herself of touch. She won't sleep properly. She was spraying scent neutralizer like it's armor, and now she doesn't have anything left to neutralize. We are well past 'she's being dramatic'."
Drake makes a strangled sound. "She hasn't baked for us in weeks. Not once. She still bakes for the neighbors. For Finn."
I frown.
Marie's head snaps toward me. For a second our eyes lock. Hers flash with something—hurt, maybe, or offense—that she doesn't voice.
Jasper clears his throat. "We need help. Outside help. Someone who knows how to handle this. I know a specialist who consults for the OPA. He works with registry omegas all the time. Forced bonding, nest violations, overstimulation, the works. If anyone can tell us how bad this is, it's Arden."
"Absolutely not," Ragon says instantly. "We're not dragging the Office into our home."
"We already dragged them in when you used their textbooks as justification for punitive conditioning. Youdon't get to cite 'pack structure' and 'omega correction' and then balk when the experts show up."
"She is mine. Our pack, our omega. I will not have some bureaucrat alpha come into my home and—"
"Tell you that what you did was over the line?" Eli says. "Maybe that's exactly what's needed."
"Eli," Drake murmurs, trying to soothe. "Ease up, man."
"Don't ask me to sugarcoat this. I'm the one who found her curled up in a chair with a blanket like a hostel guest, staring at the empty space where her nest used to be. You didn't see her face, Ragon. She looked gone."
A knot forms between my ribs, tight and hot.
"They still check in on packs with unbonded omegas," Jasper goes on. "The OPA. Randomly. You know that. It doesn’t happen often, but itcouldhappen. Especially since a report has been filed. Do you want this to come out in a surprise home visit? Or do you want to get in front of it and say, 'We made a mistake and we're taking steps to fix it'?"
Ragon exhales, harsh. "I did what I had to do. I will not apologize for protecting Marie."
Marie recoils, her shoulders hunching as if the words had physically grazed her skin.
Beside me, her hand lifts—just for a second, like she might knock and interrupt.
She lowers it again. Puts her finger back to her lips. Her scent coils in the narrow hallway, restless.
"You can protect Marie without destroying Vee," Eli says quietly. "Those things are not mutually exclusive."
"I didn't destroy her. She's still here."
"Is she?" Jasper asks. "Because from where I'm standing, what we've got is an omega-shaped husk who says 'Yes, Alpha' and stays out of your way so thoroughly she might as well be a ghost."
The wordghostlands uncomfortably accurate.
Drake swears under his breath. "Look, I messed up too. At the zoo. With the nest. I made choices I regret." The regret coats his scent thick, bitter. "But she doesn't even... she doesn't look at me like I'm me anymore. I can't fix something I'm not allowed to touch."
"So let someone who can, try," Jasper says. "Arden Hale owes me three favors and a bottle of nineteen-year-old scotch. Let him earn off at least one."
"We're not a charity case," Ragon mutters.
"We are," Eli says, flat. "She is. We just don't want to admit it."
