Page 27 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

“Malachi? It’s done. I talked to her,” I tell him. “It went… Well, it went. This mountain’s steep as hell, but I’m not backing down.”

There’s a pause, then Malachi speaks, his tone filled with quiet resolve. “That’s a good first step, Zane. We’ll figure out the rest. Each step is a battle, but you’re ready for war. Remember, true strength lies in admitting our weaknesses and working to overcome them. You’ve made a start. Now you need to follow through.”

I hang up, sliding the phone back into my pocket, my mind already racing with a million thoughts. One apology isn’t going to fix everything, it’s not going to erase the past or undo thedamage, but it’s a start—a promise I’m not going to be the same man I was before.

I can almost hear Quinn’s voice in my head, cracking some witty joke about how I’ve gone from brooding alpha to apologetic puppy.“Well, well, well,”he’d say, that infuriating smirk on his face.“Look who finally figured out how to use his words instead of his growl.”His lavender and bergamot scent would probably be tinged with amusement and a hint of pride.

Dash would probably tell me to lighten up, maybe suggest we hit a bar to celebrate this tiny victory.“Dude, you talked to her without anyone ending up in tears or jail. That’s progress!”His citrus and ocean breeze scent would be a mix of excitement and relief.

And Cayenne? She’d probably be plotting five different ways to make my life hell if I ever hurt Aria again. I can practically see her fierce glare and hear her say,“One wrong move, and they’ll never find your body.”

Dr. Harper’s words from our last session echo in my mind.“Change is a process, Zane. It’s not about grand gestures, but about consistent, small actions that prove your commitment to being better.”

I lean against the car, letting the cool metal steady me as I stare at the spot where Aria disappeared from view. The city continues its relentless pace around me—people rushing by, cars honking, the distant wail of a siren—but for me, everything has shifted. I’m in this for the long haul, no matter how many steps it takes. Because for her, for the possibility of making things right, I’ll move mountains or tear them down brick by brick if that’s what it takes.

Each step is a battle, but I’m ready for war, and maybe those steps will lead me back to her.

The city sounds fade away, leaving only the thunderous beating of my heart as I contemplate the long road ahead. Itwon’t be easy, but then again, nothing worth having ever is. And Aria? She’s worth everything. I just hope I’m not too late to prove it.

13

ARIA

I burstinto the Omega Guardians lounge like a tornado, my heart doing the cha-cha in my chest. The usually cozy space, with its warm amber lighting and plush, cream-colored sofas, suddenly feels as confining as a sports bra. The scent of lavender and vanilla hangs in the air, trying and failing to calm the storm of my emotions. A gentle jazz tune plays softly in the background, its mellow tones completely at odds with my frantic state.

Ginger, Cayenne, and Willow are already there, their chatter cutting off abruptly as they take in my frazzled state. I must look like a mess, because even the potted ficus in the corner seems to lean away from me.

“Holy shit, Aria.” Cayenne is the first to speak, her brow furrowing with concern as she makes room for me. Her fiery red hair seems to crackle with electricity, matching her intense gaze. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or worse, your ex. Wait, did you?—”

I collapse onto the sofa. Running a shaky hand through my hair, I manage to croak out, “Zane. He… He apologized.”

Their reactions are instant and varied, like I just announced I’m joining a circus as a fire-breathing mermaid. Ginger’s eyesnarrow, suspicion radiating off her in waves, and Cayenne leans forward, curiosity and worry battling for dominance on her face, while Willow’s expression shifts to something thoughtful and unreadable, like a poker player with a royal flush.

For a moment, I’m transported back to a happier time with Pack Clarke. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and we were all sprawled in the living room. Malachi was reading, his cedarwood and amber scent a comforting presence. Quinn was tinkering with some gadget, his lavender and bergamot aroma mixing with the fragrance of coffee. Dash was strumming his guitar, citrus and ocean breeze wafting through the air. Zane… Zane was actually smiling, his leather and sandalwood scent wrapping around me like a warm blanket. It was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

“Spill,” Ginger demands, snapping me back to the present as she slides a glass of wine into my hand with the precision of a seasoned bartender. “Every. Single. Detail. Don’t you dare leave out the juicy bits either.”

I take a fortifying sip, the rich merlot coating my tongue. As I recount the encounter, I don’t leave anything out—the shock of seeing him, the rush of old fears, the way he stood there, awkward and vulnerable, trying to apologize.

When I finish, my friends are quiet as they process what I shared, and the tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a spoon.

“Well,” Cayenne says after a beat, a hint of a smile playing on her lips like she’s savoring a secret, “it’s about damn time he owned up to his shit. I was starting to think we’d see pigs fly first, or Ginger willingly eat kale.”

Ginger snorts, crossing her arms. “Oh, sure, one sorry and we’re supposed to forget everything? I’ve had hangovers last longer than his apologies.” She pauses, then adds, “And hey, I’ll have you know I ate kale once. Accidentally. It was hiding in a smoothie like a vegetable ninja.”

Willow, ever the peacemaker, nods thoughtfully, her voice soft but firm like a velvet-covered steel beam. “No, it doesn’t fix anything on its own, but it’s a start. The question is, Aria, what do you want to do about it? Remember, growth isn’t just about them changing, it’s also about you evolving. You’re not the same omega you were when this all started.”

I take another sip of wine, buying myself time. “I… I don’t know,” I admit, staring into the deep red liquid as if it might suddenly spell out the answers. “Part of me wants to believe he changed, but…”

“But you’re scared,” Cayenne finishes, her expression softening. “And that’s completely understandable. If you weren’t at least a little freaked out, I’d be worried you’d been body snatched by pod people.”

“Look,” Ginger says, her voice a mix of irritation and reluctant hope, “I know I’m usually the last person to advocate for giving alphas a chance, but… well, I have some news that might change things.”

We all turn to look at her, our curiosity piqued like cats who just heard a can opener.

“I got a job,” Ginger announces, a grin spreading across her face. “Here, at Omega Guardians, and… well, part of why I took it is because of the changes I’ve been seeing. The collaboration with Pack Clarke and the new programs they are implementing… It’s actually making a difference, and it’s better than making smoothies.”

I blink at her, stunned. If my jaw dropped any lower, it’d be having a chat with my kneecaps. “Wait, you’re working here now? With Pack Clarke?” A surge of irritation sweeps up my spine that my friend would work with my scent matches.

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