"Sadly, no. Hospital cameras."
Ragon grunts. "The man was warned."
"And her?"
The room stills.
My heart leaps into my throat. Every muscle tenses.
"No," I say. "We don't need to—"
"She had a pack before us," Drake blurts. "They were assholes."
My vision goes white around the edges.
"Drake," Eli hisses.
"What? Marie just told us her horror story. It's fair. We're all sharing."
"I don't want to share that. Especially not in front of her."
Marie's brows knit. "I didn't mean to pry. I just thought—"
"It's not a big deal," Drake plows ahead like the oblivious golden retriever he can be. "It's just that her first pack sent her back to the registry when they found their scent match. You know how some packs are. Obsessed with the perfect bond. They made a stupid choice. You're not the only one who's been treated like a product."
The words hit like a physical blow.
Sent her back. Stupid choice. Like a product.
He doesn't sayunwanted toy, but my brain fills in the rest.
I feel exposed. Stripped naked in the middle of the room. My worst shame held up like a cautionary tale.
Marie's gaze snaps to me. A hundred calculations flicker in an instant.
Returned omega, her eyes say.Not good enough. Not kept.
My cheeks burn. My scent spikes sharp and sour with humiliation.
"You didn't have to tell her that."
Drake blinks. "I thought—"
"You thought what? That we'd trauma-bond and braid each other's hair while we cry about being throwaways?"
Eli says something soft behind me but I can't hear it over the roaring in my ears.
Marie flinches. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't have asked—"
"You didn't. He volunteered it. Like a fun fact. 'Here's our new omega, and here's the resale bin one that came with the house.'"
Color drains from Drake's face. "That is not what I said."
"It's what it means!"
My whole body hums with rage and shame. My instincts are in full panic—they're telling her so she knows she's the primary, you're the spare, they're warning her not to feel threatened because you've already been deemed unwanted once.
"I was trying to make you feel less alone," Drake says, rising from the couch. His own scent spikes—guilt, anger, alarm. "You both know what it's like to have packs treat you like—"
