Yet, neither the FCDA nor the DAU could capture him. Even when we started having a team of agents follow us, he evaded them. It’s incredibly frustrating, and the toll of my father’s trial is compounding with the weight of Colin’s stalking. I don’t know how much more I can take. Reliving the trauma of my childhood is breaking me, even with Shepherd’s bond in my chest, continuously pushing love and strength to me.
I don’t know what’s worse: sharing those memories with a room full of strangers, or knowing at least one of my mates is hearing them.
The guys have been incredibly supportive. Always reassuring me I am safe, that I’m free from my family’s clutches. At night, they hold me when I wake from the nightmares, sweaty and sobbing. I feel bad about falling apart. For being unable to be a good mate to them when I’m lost to the demons of my past. But each time I try to voice an apology, they shut it down, promising they don’t see me as a burden. Their patience hurts, because I don’t think I deserve it.
Shepherd suggested I see a therapist to start working through my trauma, but I can barely convince myself to leave the kids at home when we go to the courthouse. How could I stand to sit through a therapy session without them there? As wonderful as the idea is, I know I wouldn’t accomplish anything if I had them with me. I’d censor myself too much to accomplish any growth. I’ll give it a chance when the DAU can guarantee Colin is no longer a threat to my children.
The day before yesterday was the worst part of the trial. I hadn’t taken the stand. No one had. Instead, we’d heard from my father’s victims. The ones who are still alive, at least.
For hours, we sat there, listening to them recount the abuse they suffered at my father’s command. Alphas drugged and forced to undergo illegal knot removal surgeries. Omegas beat within an inch of their lives for perfuming. Betas abused by their families, unable to leave without facing the threat of death.
Of the Omegas they rescued from the lab beneath the church, I recognized one. She presented when I was sixteen, and my father had his men drag her to the church so he could make an example of her. I’d sobbed into Foster’s shoulder, listening to her recount the horrific ritual they’d performed on her. Cutting and stitching the muscles between her legs so she could never take a knot.
I remember rushing to the rose bushes outside and puking when we’d finally been allowed to leave. There was so muchblood. So much pain in her screams. Her face has haunted me for years. Had I known she was alive and trapped beneath the church, I would have brought the DAU into Whitlan years ago.Somehow.
Hearing the torture she’d experienced in the years after that horrific night, I wanted to die. I could have saved her if I’d been brave enough to speak up sooner. To put a stop to my father’s nonsense.
This is all my fault.
Shepherd had dragged me out of the courtroom after she sat down, refusing to allow me to stay and listen to another victim’s story. He’d pulled us into an alcove and held me, rocking back and forth with a purr rattling in his chest until those dark feelings faded away.
I know it isn’t actually my fault. I spentyearstrying to help them. But my effort wasn’t enough. In the end, it was my sister who saved them, exposing our father’s true intentions for the world to see. There is beauty in knowing it was an Omega who took him down, but that doesn’t ease my guilt.
Even now, as I sit with Omen’s hand tightly gripping mine and await the jury’s decision regarding Father’s crimes, shame still churns my stomach. That endless sense of never doing enough.
Officials pile into the courtroom in a blur of hushed whispers. I focus on the crest behind the judge, too afraid to look anywhere else. Then it happens. The lead juror speaks, reading off their verdicts. Guilty. Guilty.Guilty.On all charges.I tune out the sentencing. There is no way he’s getting out soon, not with the counts listed against him.
After escaping the chaos that erupted after they read the verdict, we stand between our cars, looking out over the Capitol. Omen’s head rests on my shoulder, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks. For her, this is over. She’s free.
“You don’t seem excited,” her Alpha, Nexus, comments, giving us a quizzical look.
“I am,” Omen reassures him, biting her lip. “It’s just…”
“Our father is only one of many problems.” I cut in. “Our mother is still unaccounted for. And she has access to all the cult’s wealthy backers.”
“Han, she won’t come after me,” Omen hedges, taking my hands in hers. “That woman has never cared about me. She doesn’t view me as a threat, and she certainly doesn’t see me as helpful to her.”
Squeezing my sister’s hands, I give her a soft look. I’ve always known how Mother felt about her. That’s why I stepped in to raise her at such a young age. “In this one instance, I am grateful for her hatred. You deserve to be free. Truly free this time. No more hiding, just living.”
More tears spill down her cheeks, but she wipes them away and looks to Shepherd, who hovers behind me. “She’s going to come after you and the kids.”
She already is, I want to tell her, but I don’t want to cause her more worry. If she knew how adamantly Colin was trying to get Everett, she’d try to step in. This isn’t her fight. She did enough when she took on our father. I’ll bring my ex and my mother down. This is my responsibility to bear.
“I know,” I whisper, deflating beneath the waves of stress wracking my body. But then my Alpha is there, supporting me with his weight and his scent.
“We won’t let her touch them,” he promises. Words he’s spoken in my ear a hundred times over the past three weeks. I believe him, but a healthy dose of doubt still lingers in my mind.
Omen hugs me tight, making me promise to call her this weekend to check in. Little does she know, her pack arranged for all her loved ones to celebrate at their house this afternoon. Aget-together sounds wonderfully exhausting. Hopefully, I’ll get more than two or three hours of sleep tonight.
A small crowd of people gathers on Omen’s back patio. Their friend Bea is here and brought several of her new mates, those who aren’t‘stubborn assholes’according to Foster. She’s cheerful and bubbly as she talks to her parents, amazing me with how well she’s handling everything after being kidnapped a few weeks ago. From what little she shared with my Omega, Doctor Harrison was there and stole her scent glands.
I don’t envy the journey she will have to take when the doctor finally goes to trial. Hopefully, there is enough evidence that she won’t have to take the stand and relive that torture.
Brady, a manager from the label, is here with his mate, too. He waves, recognizing us from their Halloween event. Working for the same company means he and Manny know each other, though I’ve been told it’s mostly in passing or via email.
None of the others are familiar faces, but I’m quickly introduced to Bea’s parents, who light up when they see the baby strapped to Shepherd’s chest. He’s been hogging my little man since we returned from the courthouse, only letting him go when he needs to be fed. If they weren’t so cute together, I’d be mad.
Omen arrives fifteen minutes after us, cheeks pink as she greets everyone. Crowds were never her thing, but she does well here, surrounded by friends and family. I watch her move through the different groups, getting hugs and speaking with them all. She’s grown so much in the past four years. I’m proud of her for shaking the restraints of our birth family.
