I feel him pull up. Feel the effort it takes. He stays.
"Your omega," I say to Ragon. Even. Controlled. "Went into heat."
A flicker of confusion crosses his face, then dread starts to form at the edges. His nostrils flare as he scents the truth of it. Malcolm is saturated in it.
"She went into heat alone," I continue. "Finn found her outside. On a porch… in pain."
The dread takes over completely.
"In the middle of the night," I say. "Because not one of you checked on her. For days."
"I didn't—" He stops. Starts again. "I didn't know she was in heat."
"That's exactly the problem."
Behind me I feel Malcolm's control fraying. The growl in his chest is almost audible.
Ragon's eyes move between us. Taking in the hour. How we answered the door. The fact that neither of us are sleeping. His nostrils flare again and I watch the moment it hits—the traces of the way her scent mingles with both of us, the alpha-to-alpha recognition of shared intent.
He goes very still.
"You're her scent matches."
Neither of us answers.
We don't have to. His face is doing all the work. The confusion first. Then the math clicking into place. Then darkness and territorial anger rising up through the rut-haze.
"How long?" His voice has gone low. Dangerous.
"Long enough," I say.
"She's in there right now." He shifts. The barely-contained thing starting to push at the edges. "She's in heat and you're—"
"Helping her through the heatyouleft her in alone." Malcolm's voice comes out hard and flat. I don't stop him. He's not wrong. "Because you were too wrapped up in your scent match to notice your omega was in crisis."
Ragon's jaw tightens. His weight shifts forward.
I don't move back an inch.
"Step back," I say.
"I want to see her."
"She can't consent to anything right now and you know it." I hold his gaze. "You don't get to walk in there and use her heat against her just because you've decided you want her back tonight."
"She'smyomega—"
"Shewasyours." The words come out quiet. Final. "You had five years to claim her but instead you spent them making her smaller. That's over. You don’t get to hurt her anymore."
His hands curl into fists. The darkness in his expression is full now. Territorial fury, wounded pride and the desperation of an alpha whose rut has been feeding him lies about what he deserves. I've seen it before. I've felt versions of it myself.
I don't move.
"You don’t know anything," he says. Deep. Threatening. "This is between me and my pack—"
"She's not your pack anymore." I take one step forward, out of the doorway. Into his space. Not aggressive… just present. Making him understand through proximity what I'm not saying in words. "And if you don't step back and let us see her through this in peace, I'll call the registry right now. Tonight. I'll tell them I found an unclaimed omega in active heat abandoned on a residential porch with no pack in sight." I let that sit for a second. "You know how fast they’ll move on something like that.You know what they do. She'll be out of everyone's reach before you can get your lawyer on the phone."
Silence.
