Page 106 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

“So,” I say, my voice stronger now, “I’ve spent too long looking over my shoulder. It’s time we turn the tables on Noah.”

The pack exchanges glances, a silent conversation passing between them, then Malachi nods, his expression resolute.

“First, we gather intel,” he says, slipping into his role as pack leader. “Quinn, I need you to dig deeper into Noah’s operation. Financials, properties, associates—everything.”

Quinn nods, already pulling out his tablet, his fingers itching to start hacking. “On it, boss. I’ll crack this bastard’s empire wide open.”

“Zane, reach out to your contacts in law enforcement. We need to know who’s in Noah’s pocket and whom we can trust.”

Zane grunts in acknowledgment, already pulling out his phone, his body tense with barely contained energy.

“Dash, I want you to?—”

“Let me guess,” Dash interrupts with a grin, some of his usual humor returning, “charm the locals and see what I can find out?”

Malachi’s lips twitch in an almost smile. “You read my mind.”

As they continue planning, I feel a surge of… possibility. For the first time, I can see a future where I’m not constantly looking over my shoulder.

This won’t be a quick takedown, but we have the strength and smarts to dismantle Noah’s empire brick by brick. Noah and his network won’t go down easily, but for the first time, I truly believe we can win, because we aren’t just fighting against something. We’re fighting for each other.

As night falls and the others drift off to sleep, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling. The magnitude of what we’re about to do crashes over me. We aren’t just taking on Noah—we’re taking on an entire system that allows omegas to be treated like property.

Can we really do this? Can I?

Doubt creeps in, as insidious as Noah’s manipulation ever was, but this time, I’m not alone. This time, I have a pack at my back.

Noah has no idea what he’s up against. This pack is a force that can’t be reckoned with, and that thought, more than anything, gives me the strength to close my eyes and finally, finally sleep.

46

QUINN

I standin the corner of our pack’s living room, my fingers anxiously combing through my hair. The scents of lavender and bergamot—my own distressed pheromones—mingle with the angry scents filling the air. The room feels stifling, the tension palpable as raised voices bounce off the walls. What was supposed to be a strategy meeting to plan our next move against Noah has turned into a shouting match, and I feel powerless to stop it.

The air feels thick, almost suffocating, as if the collective anger and frustration have become a tangible presence. The sharp scents of agitated alphas mingle with the sour note of Aria’s distress, creating an olfactory cocktail that makes my head spin. The bitter taste of adrenaline coats my tongue, and I swallow hard, trying to steady myself.

The soft leather of the couch creaks as Zane leans forward, his eyes dark with fury. “Every second we waste talking,” he snarls, “is another omega trapped in Noah’s web. We need to act now, before it’s too late for all of us. Or have we already failed them?” His fists clench and unclench, the muscles in his forearms rippling with barely contained rage.

Malachi shakes his head, his usually calm demeanor strained. I can see the muscles in his jaw working as he grits his teeth. “I understand the urgency, Zane,” he says, his voice steady despite the tension. “But we have a responsibility not just to ourselves, but to every omega out there. We owe them a plan that won’t crumble at the first obstacle.” He stands, his presence commanding attention. “If we rush in half-cocked, we risk more than just our lives. We risk the future of every omega we’re trying to save.”

The bitter scent of coffee lingers in the air from our abandoned mugs, now cold and forgotten on the coffee table. Dash runs a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “Hey, crazy thought,” he chimes in with a forced grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “but what if we actually played by the rules for once? You know, call the cops and let them handle the bad guys? No? Just me?” He pauses, then adds, “Alright, back to vigilante justice it is. Who’s up for making some superhero costumes? I call dibs on being the comedic relief sidekick.”

“No way in hell,” Aria cuts in, her eyes flashing with a fierce determination that belies the tremor in her voice. The sweet scent of her distress fills my nostrils. “Noah has his claws sunk too deep into the system. If we trust outsiders, we might as well gift wrap ourselves for him.” She stands, her small frame vibrating with intensity. “This is our fight, and we’ll do it our way. I’m done being a victim, and I’m sure as hell not going to sit back and watch while more omegas suffer what I did.”

The argument spirals, each of us voicing concerns, fears, and frustrations. I find myself shrinking back, the intensity of emotions pressing down like a physical weight. It’s overwhelming, like being trapped in a room with clashing alpha energies and no escape. The air feels thick, almost suffocating, as the scents of anger, fear, and frustration swirl around me.

“Guys,” I interject, but my voice is lost in the chaos. Each of them are so consumed by their own fears that they can’t see how it’s tearing us apart. It’s like dealing with difficult customers at the salon—everyone shouting over each other, convinced their way is the only way.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the mixture of scents, and center myself. This time, I infuse my voice with the calm command I rarely use. “Guys!”

The room falls silent, all eyes turning to me in surprise. My heart races under their scrutiny, but I swallow the panic and push through. “Guys, guys, we’re spinning our wheels faster than my old Commodore 64 trying to load Zork,” I interject, trying to lighten the mood. “How about we play a little game of fears-and-feelings? You know, like show-and-tell, but with more existential dread?”

Malachi nods, a hint of approval in his eyes. “Quinn’s right. This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

I seize the moment, drawing on every conflict resolution skill I’ve learned. “Instead of arguing about what we should do, let’s each take a turn expressing our biggest fear about the situation. No judgments, no interruptions. Just listening. Maybe if we understand where we’re all coming from, we can find some middle ground.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, but Aria is the first to speak. “I’m afraid of Noah finding me again and being trapped in that life.” Her voice wavers, but she doesn’t break. I watch the way her words sink into the others, and the anger in the room starts to shift into something more vulnerable. “But more than that, I’m scared of what he’s doing to other omegas right now. Every time I close my eyes, I see their faces.”

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