From the moment Willow walked into my office, I knew she was my omega. What I hadn’t expected was to care so fucking much. To care beyond my alpha’s need to please and protect.
It wasn’t a biological imperative turning me soft.
It was Willow. Beautiful. Brilliant. Tenacious.
I controlled Boston with a snap of my fingers, yet Willow could have me on my knees with one look if she willed it.
And now that she realized it, I was utterly fucked.
Utterly devoted.
Utterly in love.
I loved Willow Finnegan, my wife.
I belonged to her.
“Bye, Alpha,” she said, pulling me back to the present with a kiss.
I wrapped my fingers around her hair, tugging enough to make her gasp, taking more of her. My hand cupped her bum, grinning at the shocked expression.
“Goodbye, Omega,” I said, letting my lips linger on the corner of her mouth.
Color appeared high on her cheeks as her delicate throat worked. She wavered slightly, giggling like a flustered schoolgirl as she left. I snorted, running a hand through her hair before adjusting my tight trousers.
Fuck.
I was going to be hard for hours, and it was entirely my fault.
Clouds rolled in, darkening the afternoon sun as I struggled tofocus on the paperwork on my desk. It was bureaucratic bullshite regarding permits and liquor licenses. Usually, Aidan dealt with this nonsense, but I wanted to get my eyes on the legal side of business for once, already regretting my decision.
My fingers tapped on the polished glass in my hand, swirling around the early afternoon whisky when my phone rang. Robert’s name flashed across the screen. I hissed, taking a large sip before answering the call.
“Sweeney. I assume you have Isabelle Sterling’s results?”
After a brief pause, Robert’s calm, measured tone broke the silence.
“Mr. Finnegan,” he started, and I scrubbed a hand through my beard. “The results are concerning.”
My knuckles whitened as I gripped the phone. “How concerning?”
“The levels of suppressants in her system are dangerously high. Far beyond prescribed therapeutic doses to manage heats. It’s a sustained, aggressive regimen that’s poisoning her.”
The depravity made my blood run cold. Dead air echoed on the phone, Sweeney not daring to interject my thoughts. Only a few unmated omegas with unmanageable heats went on suppressants. I never heard of anyone being on them as the side effects were dangerous.
Every time I thought I had found out the most disgusting thing William Sterling had done, he proved me wrong. I repressed a snarl, digging my nails hard enough into the polished wood to scuff the surface.
“How long?” I asked, hissing again when he didn’t answer quickly enough. “How fucking long has this been going on?”
“Difficult to say precisely without an accurate baseline,” Sweeney said, his tone careful as he spoke each word. “But given the accumulation, I’d estimate years. At these levels, it mimics the pain of some late-stage cancers while keeping an omega compliant. In essence, she is too weak to do anything but please her alpha.”
A bitter taste flooded my mouth. Why? The only reason that made sense was that William Sterling wanted sympathy for his sick omega. And while he poisoned his wife, he tortured his daughter.
“What’s the prognosis? If she stops?”
“If the suppressants are immediately discontinued, she should begin to see improvement within a couple of weeks. Omegas are resilient,” he said with a fondness that settled my frantic alpha. “Within a few months, she could be back to normal, provided there are no underlying conditions that have been exasperated.”
I worried the band of my ring as I contemplated what to do. It was never a question of what I would do for Willow. But after spending one evening with Isabelle, I was as committed to protecting her. The older omega had burrowed into a dark part of my heart that had been empty since my parents died.
