Page 47 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

I pull my hand away and meet my own eyes in the mirror.

Get your shit together, Sophie.

This assignment is a detour. A punishment disguised as a mission. The sooner it’s over, the better.

I turn away from the mirror and dig through my suitcase for workout clothes, black leggings, a sports bra, a tank top.

I wish I could use the gym downstairs. The equipment looked good, and God, I love lifting. It was one of the things that saved me, all those years ago. It made me strong. Made me feel capable. And for the first time in my life, it made me feel like my body belonged to me.

But Sophie Dysart is a sweet, harmless omega who does yoga and drinks oat milk lattes. If anyone saw her doing pull-ups and lifting weights twice her bodyweight, questions would be asked.

So I make do with what I have.

The room isn’t big, but it’s big enough. I drop to the floor and start with push-ups, fifty, then a hundred, my arms burning by the end. Sit-ups next, then burpees, then lunges until my thighs are screaming.

I use the doorframe for pull-ups. Ten, twenty, thirty. My muscles shake but I don’t stop. The burn is clarifying, grounding, a reminder that my body is mine. That I’m strong and that I survived.

By the time I’m done, I’m drenched in sweat and my lungs are heaving.

Soon, I’ll meet whichever of them shows up at the back entrance.

I grab a towel and head for the shower, my mind already turning to the night ahead.

CHAPTER 15

Ethan

Of the three of us, I have always been the sensible one.

There was that short rebellious phase in boarding school, before I met Max and Finn, when it felt like everyone was ganging up against me for being poor, for being the scholarship kid who didn’t belong. I got into fights. Mouthed off to teachers. Spent more time in detention than in class.

But that didn’t last long. Once Max and Finn pulled me into their orbit, everyone started treating me better. As if being friends with them suddenly made them all respect me. And when we became a pack years later, I naturally fell into the role I’d been training for my whole life. The steady, calm one. The one who smooths things over when Max gets too intense and Finn gets too reckless.

The father figure, if I’m being honest.

Which makes sense, given that I grew up without a dad. It was just me and my mother, and I learned early not to expect things to be easy. I couldn’t afford to fall apart and definitely couldn’t afford to feel too much. Emotions were a luxury we didn’t have room for.

I learned young that if you want to achieve things, really achieve them, you have to set your feelings aside and focus on what needs to be done.

It’s served me well.

I’m waiting at the back entrance of the building, the one tucked behind the maintenance shed that most people don’t even know exists. I stand in the dim corridor, the single security light outside casting a pale circle on the gravel path through the small window beside the door.

I check my watch. One minute to eight.

The door at the end of the corridor swings open and Sophie steps through, coming from the residential wing.

I almost don’t recognize her.

Gone is the lavender blouse, the soft waves and makeup that made her look like someone’s sweet, harmless assistant. In their place is a simple white t-shirt, black jeans, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, a backpack slung over one shoulder.

It’s like someone stripped away all the fluff and left only what was underneath.

“Mr. Brooks.” She nods at me, already scanning the corridor.

“Ethan,” I say. “Please.”

She glances at me briefly but says nothing.