Page 2 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

Dr. Harper gives a small, approving nod. “That’s a brave step forward, Zane. What do you think your next steps should be?”

My mind races as half formed plans and apologies stack up like dominoes. “I need to talk to the pack,” I say slowly, feeling the weight of the decision settle into my bones. “We need to face this as a unit, and then I need to apologize to Aria. Really apologize, not just throw words at her and hope they stick.”

As I lean back in the chair, a fraction of the weight I’ve been carrying seems to lift. It isn’t gone, not by a long shot, but it’s something. Dr. Harper watches me carefully, like she’s weighing every movement and every word.

“That’s a strong start,” she says, making a note on her pad, “but I want you to be prepared for setbacks. Changing long-standing behaviors and deep-rooted fears isn’t a straight line.”

“I know,” I reply, my jaw tightening, “but I can’t keep running from this. I can’t keep letting my shit spill over onto Aria. I’m supposed to be the one protecting her, not making her life harder.”

I’m supposed to be a fucking security guard. Some guard I am. I can’t even protect her from myself.

She nods, her pen moving with the kind of efficiency that tells me she’s done this a thousand times. “Speaking of Aria, how do you think she might respond to your apology? Given your history, she may not be immediately receptive.”

The thought punches me in the gut. Of course she wouldn’t just forgive me, not after everything. “I… I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Do you think she won’t forgive me?”

“Forgiveness isn’t a switch you can flip, Zane. It’s a process,” Dr. Harper reminds me gently. “She may need time. The important thing is that you’re consistent in showing her that you’ve changed.”

I nod, the reality of it settling in. The pack, Aria, everything’s tangled up in this mess I made. I can’t expect them to just fallin line because I’m finally ready to be honest. “I think I need to start with honesty. No more hiding behind excuses.”

“That’s a good foundation,” Dr. Harper agrees, her smile small but warm. “Honesty and transparency will be crucial in rebuilding trust.”

I swallow hard, bracing myself for what comes next. “I need to tell her everything—about Jane, about my fears… and about how I’ve always known she is an omega.”

Dr. Harper tilts her head, studying me like she’s reading between the lines. “That level of vulnerability isn’t easy. How do you feel about opening up like that?”

“Terrified,” I admit, managing a wry smile despite the anxiety coiling in my gut. “But also… maybe a little relieved? Like I’m finally peeling off a layer that’s been choking me.”

Dr. Harper nods thoughtfully. “Zane, consider this. Your fear of losing Aria, of history repeating itself, is understandable, but by keeping her at arm’s length, aren’t you already losing her?”

Her words hit me with the force of a slap, cold and sharp. She’s right. I’ve been so busy walling myself off, so caught up in protecting myself from pain, that I’ve been inflicting it on her instead.

“God,” I whisper, my voice raw. “I’ve been such a fool.”

“Self-awareness is the first step to change,” Dr. Harper says, her tone firm but kind. “You’re already on the path.”

As our session winds down, I find myself at the window, staring out at the sun dipping below the horizon. There’s a shift happening inside me, like the last threads of an old skin finally tearing away. The old Zane, the one clinging to mistakes and regrets, is fading into the shadows and making room for someone willing to face the mess head-on.

“Same time next week?” Dr. Harper asks as I gather my things.

“Yeah,” I answer, the weight in my chest feeling just a little lighter. “Thanks, Dr. Harper.”

The cool evening air hits me as I step outside, carrying the scents of the city—car exhaust, food from nearby restaurants, and the faint, mingled pheromones of countless passersby. I take a long, deep breath, letting it clear my head. It won’t be easy, and I’m sure as hell not expecting it to be, but for the first time in a long time, I have a direction. I know what needs to be done.

The streetlights flicker on, casting warm pools of light along the sidewalk, and I can’t help but think it’s a sign of a new start—one where I actually have a chance to get things right.

As I walk toward my car, my mind is already racing with how I’ll approach the pack. Malachi, with his calm authority. Quinn, always ready with a quip but fiercely loyal. Dash, carefree on the surface but with hidden depths. Aria… God, Aria. Her scent fills my senses even now.

It’s time to stop running, because the alternative—losing Aria and my pack—is not an option I’m willing to consider.

Not anymore.

I climb into my car, the leather seats cool against my back. As I start the engine, I can’t help but chuckle. Who knew it would take a therapist’s couch and the threat of a rom-com marathon to get my head out of my ass? Life’s funny like that sometimes.

1

ARIA

I joltawake with a scream lodged in my throat like a stubborn piece of popcorn. The shadows in my apartment—still as unfamiliar as a stranger’s underwear drawer after a month—stretch across the walls like creepy finger puppets.

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