Thankfully, Bones doesn’t fight me, stomping out the back door, Cross hot on his heels. Siren and I move toward the couches, motioning for Joker to follow us. He sits with Delilah on his lap, holding her close and purring softly.
“It’s okay, little wisp. You’re okay. You’re safe,” he whispers, rubbing her back and brushing her hair back from her face.
I sit on the coffee table facing them, Siren sitting close but not enough to crowd them. Their scent is soft, calming roses and rain filling the room.
“Honey, can you talk to us?” I start, dropping my voice to barely above a whisper, trying to be as gentle as possible.
Delilah shakes her head, trying to make herself small in Joker’s arms. It hurts a part of my heart I thought was long dead to see her so afraid, but I can’t protect her if I don’t know what sort of threat I’m facing.
“Who sent that package, luv? Do you know?” Joker tries, nuzzling her head.
Delilah nods, but doesn’t speak, only whimpering slightly.
“Was it the same person who killed your pack?” Siren asks flatly.
Delilah lets out a choked sob that tugs at my heart and instincts, and I lean closer. I want to touch her, to soothe her, to wipe away her tears. But Bones’s orders were clear, though I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to obey them.
“He called me rabbit, because I’m jumpy. And I would run from the fighting. He got me that rabbit. It was in my nest. God, how did he get that? How did he find me?”
Delilah speaks in hoarse, rushed sentences, each more panicked than the last. Joker rocks her gently, purring so hard I can feel it vibrating through the floor. Siren’s scent gets stronger as they move closer, laying a tentative hand on her arm, their thumb brushing across the bare skin of Delilah’s forearm. I look at them in alarm, but I don’t stop them, especially after how they’ve acted in the past.
“Who is he? If you tell us—”
Delilah lets out a startled, pained shout, clutching her chest. “I can’t. I can’t,” she gasps.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to,” Joker says.
Siren shoots him a look, but our omega only glares back, his arms tightening protectively around Delilah’s slight frame.
“We can check the cameras, see if we can get anything from them that might give us a lead,” I suggest, looking at Siren and nodding toward the loft.
They sigh and roll their eyes, seeing the dismissal in my gaze. It’s not that I don’t want them here, but Delilah needs a gentler hand than they’re able to give. With a sigh, Siren stands up and heads upstairs toward the security station in the loft without further protest, leaving Joker and me alone in the living room with Delilah.
We lock eyes, a newfound solidarity forming between us. He wants to help this poor girl so badly, but Bones has more control over Joker than any of us. But me…I have no such compulsion. In a battle of wills, I’m the only one in the pack able to stand up to our prime alpha.
“I need to hear you ask it, Jokes. I can’t do anything until you allow it,” I whisper, referring back to his claim.
Joker nods. “Keep her safe, Connor. I need you,” he says, voice full of conviction.
I return the nod before extending my arms. Joker looks down at Delilah with a soft smile on his face, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Phantom’s going to take over, okay luv? He’s not going to let anything happen to you, I promise.”
Joker’s voice is full of a warmth I’m not sure I’ve ever heard from him before, and it seems to settle something in his fellow omega. She nods and sniffles, pulling back from Joker’s arms enough to wipe her cheeks.
“Atta girl. Now, he’s going to take over for me. I’ve got an alpha who needs some sense knocked into his thick fucking skull,” Joker says, laughing slightly to lessen the intensity of his threat.
Just like that, Delilah nods and crawls over into my arms.
And sweet baby Jesus and all the saints, nothing has ever felt as right as her little hands resting over my heart.
Chapter thirty-one
ThescentofDelilah’spack’s old blood sticks in my nose, even as I storm around the clearing behind the house. Their fear lingered on the fabric, my over-sensitive nose holding on to the notes even as I try to push them away.
“What the hell was that?” Cross shouts at me after he closes the back door and tramps down the stairs.
I snarl viciously, not trusting myself to form words right now. My instincts are too triggered, and the call for violence that lingers too close most days rings in my ears.
The need to protect. The burning, aching longing that’s taken root in my chest from the moment I laid eyes on the terrified, pathetic, scrap of an omega Jokerdragged out of the facility. The fury, not at her, but on her behalf. No one so small and vulnerable should have to endure so much. Joker might be an omega, but I know he can protect himself. Delilah, though…
