Page 37 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

I hesitate, caught between the desire to handle this on my own and the cold reality that Noah—Logan—is here, and I’m not equipped to face him alone. I give him a small nod, allowing Quinn to step away and make the call. His voice is a low murmurin the background as I close my eyes and try to calm my racing thoughts.

The bell above the door chimes sooner than expected, the sharp sound cutting through my reverie. My eyes snap open to see Malachi striding in, his presence filling the room with an aura of authority. Zane and Dash follow closely behind, their faces grim with determination and concern.

For a moment, I’m struck by the sight of them all together. They look slightly disheveled, as if they dropped everything to come here. Malachi’s usually impeccable suit is slightly rumpled, Zane’s hair is mussed like he’s been running his hands through it, and Dash’s T-shirt looks hastily thrown on.

Their scents hit me next—a potent mixture of alpha pheromones tinged with worry and protectiveness. It’s almost overwhelming, but there’s something oddly comforting about it too, like being wrapped in a warm, familiar blanket. Each of them affects me differently—Quinn’s presence is a soothing balm, Zane’s intensity sends shivers down my spine, Dash’s energy is contagious, and Malachi makes me feel inexplicably safe.

They move with a silent coordination that speaks of their bond as a pack. Malachi naturally takes the lead, with Zane flanking him and Dash bringing up the rear. They look between me and each other, having entire conversations in glances and subtle nods.

“Aria,” Malachi says, his deep voice filled with an urgency that matches the frantic beat of my heart, “what happened?”

I swallow hard, the words stuck in my throat. The concern in their eyes and the way they all rushed to my aid is almost too much. A lump forms in my throat, and I feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“Logan… Noah. He’s here. In Puritan City,” I choke out, my voice breaking on the last word.

Suddenly, it’s all too much. Fear, stress, and the unexpected support crash over me like a wave. A sob escapes me, and I feel my knees give way, but before I can fall, strong arms are around me—Quinn from one side, Dash from the other. Zane steps forward, his hand gentle on my shoulder, while Malachi’s steady presence anchors us all.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself break down, and as I cry, surrounded by the pack, I realize that maybe I’m not as alone as I thought.

Dash’s expression darkens, his usually carefree demeanor replaced by something fierce and protective. “Noah? As in—” He pauses, running a hand through his hair, his touch on my arm tightening slightly. Then, with forced lightness, he adds, “Hey, look at it this way, at least we’re all getting some quality pack bonding time, right? Silver linings and all that.”

“We didn’t put it together,” Zane interrupts, his face pale and eyes intense with a mix of anger and self-recrimination. His hand tenses then relaxes on my shoulder, as if he’s fighting the urge to pull me closer. “Logan is Noah. He’s been here all along, trying to get to you through us.”

I stare at them, my mind struggling to catch up. “What do you mean?”

Malachi’s jaw tightens, his calm exterior barely containing his frustration. He kneels in front of me, his presence both comforting and intimidating. “Logan approached us, wanting to join the pack. He was… convincing and charismatic.” He takes a deep breath, his voice becoming more measured. “We underestimated Noah once, but we won’t make that mistake again. Every challenge we face makes us stronger, Aria. This situation, as difficult as it is, will unite us in ways we never imagined.”

“But how?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “How did he fool all of you for so long?”

Malachi exchanges a glance with Zane, who speaks up, his voice tight with anger. “He played us, used a combination of charm, half-truths, and… well, we suspect some sort of scent-masking technology. We were so focused on ourselves, we never imagined the danger was already among us.”

Dash’s eyes meet mine, and I see regret and frustration mingling there. His thumb rubs soothing circles on my arm as he speaks. “We thought he was just another alpha trying to join our pack. We didn’t realize… Aria, I’m so sorry. He played us all.”

The room spins slightly as I process their words. They’ve been surveilling him, not me, but somehow, Logan—Noah—slipped through the cracks and got closer than anyone realized. The thought makes my stomach churn.

“We should have known sooner,” Quinn says quietly, his hand squeezing my shoulder. His touch, warm and reassuring, helps ground me. “But we’re here now, and we aren’t going to let him near you.” He pauses, a hint of his usual wit returning. “You know, Aria, I could design a state-of-the-art security system for this place. It’ll be so good, even I couldn’t hack it, and that’s saying something.”

Despite everything, I feel a small smile tug at my lips. I take a shaky breath, the enormity of the situation settling over me. “What do we do now?”

Malachi doesn’t hesitate, his voice carrying the weight of a decision already made. “We get you to Omega Guardians. It’s the safest place with the highest security.”

The idea of putting myself back under their care sends a flicker of resistance through me, but the memory of Noah’s cruelty and the threat he poses looms larger.

I nod, my voice stronger now. “Okay, but on my terms. I’m not just hiding away—I’m preparing to face this head-on.”

The irony of seeking safety in a cage isn’t lost on me.

The ride to Omega Guardians is a blur of movement and low voices. I’m vaguely aware of the pack forming a protective circle around me, their presence a strange but welcome comfort. Their scents mingle in the confined space of the car, creating a cocoon of alpha pheromones that both comforts and suffocates me. Quinn sits beside me in the back seat, his hand finding mine again, and the warmth of his touch provides a steady reassurance.

As we drive through the city, the familiar landmarks take on a sinister quality. Every shadow seems to hide a threat, every passerby a potential danger. The neon signs and streetlights blur into a dizzying kaleidoscope, matching the chaotic swirl of my thoughts.

When we arrive at Omega Guardians, its windows gleam in the night. The guys pull right up to the sidewalk, and one by one, they get out with me, flanking all sides. Willow is already waiting at the entrance, her face tight with worry. She rushes forward, pulling me into a hug that’s both fierce and gentle.

The familiar scent of her perfume—lavender and vanilla—washes over me, soothing the jagged edges of my nerves. “Aria, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

I cling to her for a moment, letting her steady presence calm me. “I’m alright,” I say, even though my voice trembles.

Willow turns to the pack, her expression businesslike. “Thank you for bringing her. We’ve increased security, but we need to coordinate closely on this.” Her voice becomes firmer, more decisive. “We aren’t just protecting you, Aria. We’re creating a space where you can grow stronger and become the person you’re meant to be.”

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