Page 105 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

Malachi breaks the silence, his voice low and controlled. “Aria, we can’t begin to understand what you’ve been through, but I want you to know that you’re safe now. We will never let anyone hurt you like that again.”

I nod, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “I know. That’s why I’m telling you this. I trust you, and I know you’re different.”

I hold up a hand, willing them to wait. “You already know about Aunt Sara.” I lick my lips, twisting my hands together. “My last heat, he… he refused to…” The words catch in my throat.

I take a shaky breath, trying to find the strength to continue. The room is thick with tension, my alphas’ scents spiking with concern and barely contained rage.

“He refused to help me through it,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “Said I didn’t deserve it. That I needed to learn my place.”

Quinn’s hand tightens on my knee, his touch grounding me as the memories threaten to overwhelm me. His usual playful demeanor is gone, replaced by a fierce protectiveness that radiates through his touch.

“I begged him,” I continue, shame coloring my words. “I was in so much pain, I would have done anything, but he just… watched. For days. He said it was for my own good.”

A low, dangerous growl rumbles through the room. I’m not even sure which of my alphas it came from—maybe all of them.

“When it was finally over, I was so weak I could barely move.” I wipe a tear away, my hand trembling.

Dash makes a choked sound, and he reaches for his pocket where I know he keeps his sobriety chip. The soft clink of metal against metal is barely audible. Our eyes meet, and I see understanding there. We both know what it’s like to carry the weight of past mistakes and be haunted by the things we wish we could have done differently.

“No other alphas?” Quinn questions, shocked. His analytical mind seems to be working overtime, trying to process this information.

“No,” I whisper.

I know what they are all thinking. One alpha for one omega? There isn’t any way that alpha would ever be enough. Noah fucking knew that. He. Knew.

“He knew exactly what he was doing,” Zane growls, his voice low and dangerous. His scent spikes with a protective fury that’s almost overwhelming. “Depriving you like that… It’s torture.”

I nod, unable to meet their eyes. “I think that was the point—to break me down completely.”

Malachi leans forward, his eyes intense. “Aria, look at me.” I force myself to meet his gaze, finding strength in his steady presence. “What he did to you is unforgivable, but you survived. You’re here now, with us.”

“I know,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “But sometimes… sometimes I still feel like I’m there, like I’m still that scared, broken omega who can’t do anything right.”

Quinn’s hand squeezes my knee gently. “Aria, you’re hardwired into our pack now. No firewall Noah builds can keep us out.” His voice is soft but filled with conviction, his usual tech jargon reflecting his sincerity.

“He’s right,” Dash adds, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’re our omega now, our mate, and we’ll spend the rest of our lives making sure you never feel that way again.”

“The last thing Noah said to me before I ran,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, “was that he’d find me. No matter where I went or who I was with, he’d always own me, and that when he got me back, he’d make sure I never left again.”

Silence falls over the room as I finish, broken only by the soft ticking of a clock on the mantel and Zane’s restless movements. For a moment, I’m terrified. What if they see me differently now? What if they think I’m too broken and damaged?

“I should have fucking seen it,” Zane growls, his voice low and dangerous. He punches the wall, the thud echoing in the quiet room. “The signs were there. Noah won’t get away with this. I swear it.”

“It’s like solving a puzzle,” Quinn mutters, his eyes sharp with concentration. “Every piece of information you give us is another step toward unraveling Noah’s whole operation. If we just… hmm, maybe if we cross-reference…”

I can smell the fury rolling off my packmates, sharp and acrid, but Malachi remains outwardly calm, his scent a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.

Malachi moves, pulling me into a fierce embrace. His strong arms wrap around me, solid and warm. The others follow, surrounding me in a cocoon of warmth and love. Their scents envelop me—cedarwood, leather, lavender, citrus—chasing away the lingering ghosts of my past. I can feel the steady thump of their hearts, slightly out of sync but comforting in their rhythm.

“You’re safe now,” Malachi murmurs, his breath warm against my ear, his voice thick with emotion. “We won’t let him touch you. Ever.”

“We’ll bring down his entire operation,” Zane vows, his eyes blazing with determination, the scent of his anger sharp and protective. “Every last bit of it.”

Quinn nods, his usual playful demeanor replaced by furious protectiveness. His hand finds mine. “You aren’t alone anymore, Aria. You’re family.” He pauses, then adds, “And family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”

“Time to flip the script on Noah,” Dash says, his voice rough like gravel. He ruffles my hair gently, the gesture achingly familiar and comforting. “He won’t know what hit him.”

As we sit here, tangled together in a mess of limbs and emotions, I feel something shift inside me. The weight I’ve carried for so long feels lighter, shared among these incredible alphas who have become my world. Their combined scents create a new aroma of safety and home.

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