“I was so scared,” I choke out between sobs, my voice muffled against Zane’s chest. The fabric of his shirt is damp with my tears. “I thought… I thought I’d never see you again.” My body shakes with the force of my sobs, years of pent-up fear and pain finally finding release.

“You know, statistically speaking, the chances of surviving what you did are astronomical,” Quinn muses, his voice soft but tinged with awe. His fingers tremble slightly as they continue their soothing motions on my back. “But then again, you’ve always been our outlier, haven’t you?” He lets out a shaky laugh, the sound somewhere between relief and disbelief.

“I vote we bubble wrap you from now on, sparkles,” Dash chimes in, his voice light but with an undercurrent of genuine concern. “Maybe add some glitter. You know, for style points.” His attempt at humor is punctuated by a sniffle, and I realize he’s crying too.

Despite everything, I feel a small smile tugging at my lips. Trust Dash to find a way to lighten even the heaviest moment. I lift my head from Zane’s chest and meet Dash’s watery gaze. “Only if you wear a matching bubble wrap suit,” I retort, my voice still thick with tears.

Malachi’s expression is a mix of love and fierce protectiveness, and the air around him seems to crackle with suppressed energy. “You’re the heart of this pack, Aria. Your strength is our strength.” His hand comes to rest on my shoulder, the weight of it grounding and reassuring.

His words wash over me, soothing some of the raw edges of my pain. I pull back enough to look at each of them, shaking myhead. The cool air on my tear-stained cheeks makes me shiver. “You found me, you saved me, and not just me—all those other omegas too.”

We sit together, sharing pieces of what happened. I tell them about the warehouse, Noah’s threats, and the small acts of defiance that kept me sane. The words taste like ash in my mouth, but with each revelation, I feel a small weight lift. They tell me about the frantic search, the dead ends, and the desperate hope that kept them going.

As I speak, I notice the subtle reactions of my pack. Zane’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he fights to control his anger. Quinn’s fingers twitch, as if he’s itching to get his hands on a keyboard and hunt down every last person involved. Dash’s usual carefree demeanor is gone, replaced by a fierce protectiveness I’ve rarely seen from him. Malachi listens with an intensity that both comforts and unnerves me, his eyes never leaving my face.

I feel the tension leave my body, replaced by a quiet, simmering resolve. The fear is still there, lurking beneath the surface, but it no longer feels all-consuming. Instead, it’s fuel for the determination building inside me—a drive to fight back and make sure no one else suffers like I did.

Hours pass, and as night falls, we find ourselves curled up together on the oversized bed. The room is now bathed in the soft, warm glow of bedside lamps, casting long shadows on the walls. There’s a comfort in the closeness, a reaffirmation of our bond that words could never capture. The bed dips and shifts as we adjust, finding the perfect position where we’re all connected, skin to skin. In their arms, I feel whole—broken but not beyond repair.

The night air drifting in through the cracked window is cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming jasmine from thegarden below. In the distance, I hear the soft hooting of an owl and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

“What happens now?” I ask softly, breaking the silence that’s settled over us like a warm blanket. My voice sounds small in the quiet room.

Malachi sighs, his fingers gently stroking my hair. The repetitive motion is soothing. “Now, we fight. The evidence we gathered is going to shake things up. There will be legal battles and political fallout, but this pack won’t break. We’re in this, all of us, to the bitter end.”

I nod, feeling a fire ignite in my chest. The embers of determination that have been smoldering burst into flame. “I want to be part of it. I want to help bring down this entire network.” My hands clench into fists, my nails digging into my palms.

The desire to fight back burns bright within me. It isn’t just about me anymore. It’s about every omega who’s suffered and every life that has been torn apart by people like Noah. I’m done being a victim. It’s time to be a warrior. The determination courses through me, as tangible as my own heartbeat.

They exchange glances, pride and worry in their eyes. I can almost hear the unspoken communication passing between them. Zane is the first to speak, his voice gentle but firm. “Are you sure? After everything you’ve been through…”

“They think they have seen my worst? I’ll show them what an omega can really do,” I say with conviction. My voice doesn’t waver, and I meet each of their gazes steadily. “What I’ve been through has given me strength. I can’t just sit back. I have to do something.” I sit up straighter, squaring my shoulders as if preparing for a fight.

Their approval and support flow through our bond, warm and reassuring. As we settle down for the night, I feel truly at home for the first time since my rescue. The soft cotton sheetsare cool against my skin, a pleasant contrast to the warmth of the bodies surrounding me. The rhythmic sound of their breathing, slightly out of sync but comforting in its familiarity, lulls me toward sleep.

I know the trauma isn’t gone. There will be bad nights, flashbacks, and moments where the fear feels too big, but I also know I have them, my pack, my family, to help me through it. Their scents envelop me, creating a protective barrier against the darkness of my memories.

Just as I’m drifting off to sleep, I notice Malachi reaching for his phone. The sudden blue glow in the dim room makes me squint. “Everything okay?” I murmur sleepily, exhaustion pulling at me.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. His lips are warm and slightly chapped, familiar and comforting. “Just some loose ends to tie up. Nothing for you to worry about right now. Rest, love. You’re safe.”

As I close my eyes, surrounded by the warmth and love of my pack, a sense of peace settles over me like a comforting weight. The road ahead won’t be easy, but we’ll face it together. We are Pack Clarke, and we’re ready for whatever comes next.

With that thought, I drift into a peaceful sleep, the gentle rise and fall of my alphas’ chests and the steady thrum of their heartbeats creating a soothing lullaby. I know that when I wake, my pack will be right here with me.

Even as sleep claims me, though, a part of my mind remains alert, processing everything that happened. The fight isn’t over. It’s only just beginning. Noah may be caught, but his network is vast, his influence extensive. We struck a blow, but the war is far from won.

In my dreams, I see the faces of the other omegas we rescued, hear their cries, and feel their pain, but I also see hope—the hopewe gave them. We have a chance to change things and make a real difference.

As the night deepens, my resolve strengthens. Tomorrow, we’ll start planning. Tomorrow, we’ll begin to dismantle the system that allowed this to happen. Tomorrow, we’ll fight not just for ourselves, but for every omega who’s ever been treated as less than human.

As I drift deeper into sleep, a chill runs down my spine. In the hazy realm between consciousness and dreaming, I catch a glimpse of something dark and menacing. Noah’s network is bigger than we thought, and they won’t go down without a fight.

The last thought that flits through my mind before I succumb to exhaustion is a question that sends a shiver of determination through me. The storm is coming, and we’re going to be the lightning because the fight that’s brewing is going to shake our world to its very core.

51

ARIA