"I feel like myself," I said finally. "For the first time ever."
Stone made a sound against my neck—half laugh, half sob. His arms tightened around me.
"I was so scared." His voice cracked. "When they kept me away. I could feel you calling. Feel you suffering. And I couldn't—"
"Shh." I turned in his arms, cupping his face. "You're here now. You came when I needed you."
"I almost didn't." His eyes were anguished. "I almost lost control. Almost—"
"But you didn't." I pressed my forehead to his. "You held on. For me."
"Always for you." He kissed me softly. "Always."
James's hand stroked down my spine. "So what happens now?"
The question hung in the air.
I thought about everything that had led to this moment. The old council hunting Omegas to extinction. Twilson watching me with calculating eyes. The people who would come for me once they realized what I was.
But I also thought about my pack. Five men who would die before they let anyone hurt me. Five bonds so strong they couldn't be broken by any force. Five wolves with rings around their pupils that marked them as mine.
Let them come.
Chapter 18 — Undeniable
The cabin was quiet when I woke up. Morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, and for a long moment I just lay there, taking stock. My body ached in a thousand different places—muscles I didn't know I had were sore, and the bite marks on my neck and wrists throbbed with a dull, pleasant heat. But underneath all of that was something new.
Stillness.
The desperate, clawing need that had consumed me for days was gone. In its place was a calm so profound it felt like sinking into warm water. The bonds hummed in my chest, five golden threads connecting me to the men sprawled around me, and for the first time, they weren't demanding anything. They were just... there. Steady. Complete.
I turned my head.
Stone was closest, his body curved around mine like he'd been afraid to let go even in sleep. His face was slack, the tension that usually lived in his jaw finally absent. One arm was draped over my waist, heavy and possessive even in unconsciousness.
Beyond him, James was sprawled on his back, one arm flung over his eyes, his chest rising and falling with deep, exhausted breaths. Neal had somehow ended up at the foot of the bed, curled on his side. Cal was pressed against my other side, his hand still loosely holding mine. And Cole—Cole was sitting in the chair by the window, watching me with tired eyes.
"You're awake," he said quietly.
"How long have you been sitting there?"
"A while." He smiled, and even exhausted, it transformed his face. "I wanted to make sure you were okay when you woke up."
"I'm more than okay." I stretched carefully, feeling the pleasant ache in my muscles. "I feel amazing."
"You look amazing." His eyes traveled over me—not with hunger, but with something softer. Wonder, maybe. "The fever's broken. Your color's back. And your scent..."
"What about it?"
"It's different. Deeper." He shook his head slowly. "You smell like pack. Like ours."
The words sent warmth flooding through me. Ours. I liked the sound of that.
Stone stirred beside me, his arm tightening around my waist. His eyes opened slowly, gold flickering at the edges before settling into gray. When he saw me watching him, something in his expression cracked open.
"You're here," he said roughly.
"Where else would I be?"
