“We don’t care if she has scars. I’m just mad the fuckers are dead and I don’t get to have my own revenge on them,” Roman growls.
“Is there anything else we need to know?” Holden questions.
“Yes. After the rape, we found out she was pregnant and she chose to have an abortion. Something I fully supported her through. She’ll have to have another test performed once she wakes and can tell us more of what happened.”
“And we’ll be there for her. We just want to see her,” Nash speaks up.
“Only when she wakes. I won’t allow it until then. I’ll let her know about you and she can make that choice. Again, can each of you accept her the way she is and be there for her? It’s not going to be easy. She has to recover from yet another attack.”
Roman stands. “With all due respect, Storm, do you see any of us running? We don’t care about some scars. Those are reminders that she’s a survivor. A show of her strength. She’s our omega, and we’d wait an eternity to meet her.”
Chapter 39
River
Iwake with a scream, my eyes flying open. My mind is so jumbled, I don’t know where I am. The air feels thick around me; my hands grip the sheets, searching for something familiar, but the only thing present is the pounding of my heart and the burn of panic clawing at me.
Then I hear it—the echo of footsteps—and my body goes rigid. My mind throws me back into my heat, with them. Not just the two, but the Hartman pack as well. Their scents, their voices and the feel of their hands on my body overpower me. I’m back in that place I swore I would never be again. All I want to do is die.
The door bursts open, and I scream again, high and raw, as I push my body backward against the headboard. I can’t breathe, my pulse pounding in my body.
“Leave me alone. Just let me die,” I cry out, swinging my arms, trying to protect myself.
Suddenly someone’s at my side. Taking hold of my arms, stopping me from protecting myself. Chocolate. Familiar. But I can’t think of anything but the alphas trying to bond me. To finish what they started.
“Hey, hey—” His voice cuts through my panic, low and firm. Torin. I blink, disoriented, the sound of his voice dragging me out of my nightmare. My reality. “You’re safe. They’re gone. Do you hear me? They will never hurt you again.”
My chest tightens, constricting my breathing. I need air. Panic takes hold of me again.
“Breathe,” Torin tells me, his tone slow and steady. “In… and out. Count for me. One… two…”
I try. My body trembles as I follow the rhythm of his voice. In. Out. Count. Again. Until the fog in my mind begins to clear.
The room comes into focus—the soft light spilling through the window, the blanket twisted around my legs, the sound of my own sobs fading into hiccups. Outside, something thuds—a door, a heavy footstep, I’m not sure—but Torin’s shout was immediate.
“Stop! She’s okay!”
“I’m coming in,” a deep voice growls.
The voice is familiar. But it can’t be.
“Just you,” Torin shouts.
There’s some grumbling before the bedroom door opens, and he steps in.
My brother.
He is here. Storm’s eyes are rimmed in red, the broken expression on his face breaking the last piece of me. I don’t think—I just move. The blanket falls away as I crawl across the bed, meeting him at the edge, falling into his arms, clinging onto him tightly, the kind of grip that says what words can’t.
He wraps his arms around me, strong and silent, while Torin steps to the side. My breathing begins to slow and the pounding in my chest starts to lessen
We don’t speak, we just hold each other. I press my face against Storm’s shoulder, the fabric of his shirt damp with mytears. His scent—maple syrup and cinnamon—anchor me in the present, piece by fragile piece.
I’m safe.
The words feel foreign to me, like they’re for someone else to say. Safe. I try to believe it, but my body hasn’t processed it yet. It still trembles, bracing itself for hands that aren’t coming, for voices that are no longer here or exist.
Torin’s words echoed softly—They’ll never hurt you again.
