Page 40 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

I let out a slow breath, nodding as I push the phone toward him. “Thank you for telling me, and for… everything.” My voice wavers slightly, betraying the mix of emotions churning inside me.

Zane’s lips twitch into a faint smile, the kind that barely touches his eyes but still feels like a step forward. “We’re your pack now, Aria. That means we have your back, whether you’re throwing punches or dodging them.” His voice takes on a more enigmatic tone as he adds, “Training isn’t just about physical strength, Aria. It’s about understanding the shadows within yourself… and learning to dance with them.”

The sun continues to climb, filling the dojo with light. As we sit here, I catch a glimpse of our reflections in the mirrored wall—two people marked by past mistakes but facing forward, ready to tackle whatever comes next. For the first time, the idea of leaning on someone else doesn’t seem quite so terrifying. It feels like hope.

As we stand to leave, the reality of Noah’s proximity crashes over me again. My breath catches, and my hands start to shake.

Zane notices, his brow furrowing with concern. “Aria?” he asks softly. “Are you okay?”

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I… I don’t know,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s so close, Zane. What if he?—”

“Hey,” Zane interrupts gently, his hand hovering near my shoulder, not quite touching. “We won’t let him get to you. I promise.”

The intensity of Zane’s gaze makes my heart skip a beat. I want to believe him, want to trust in the strength and determination I see in his eyes, but years of pain and betrayal aren’t so easily forgotten.

“You can’t promise that,” I say, my voice stronger than I feel. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Zane’s expression softens, a mix of understanding and purpose etching his features. “You’re right,” he admits. “I can’t promise he won’t try, but I can promise that we’ll be ready—that I’ll be ready.”

He takes a step closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Aria, I know I let you down before. I know I’ve been… well, an ass.” A wry smile tugs at his lips. “But I meant what I said earlier. I’ve planted my feet, Aria. You’d need a wrecking ball to move me now.”

I search his face, looking for any sign of deception, but all I see is a raw honesty that makes my chest tighten.

“I want to believe you,” I whisper, the words feeling like a confession.

Zane nods, not pushing or demanding more than I can give. “Then let me prove it to you,” he says. “Day by day, action by action, I’ll show you that you can trust me again.”

I feel a lump forming in my throat, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Zane’s words hang in the air between us, heavy with promise and possibility. For a heartbeat, I allow myself to imagine what it might be like to truly trust him again, to have someone I can lean on in this fight against Noah.

Old habits die hard, though, and I catch myself before I can fall too deep into that fantasy. I take a step back, creating some distance between us. “Okay,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “Alright, Zane, but remember, I have eyes like a hawk and the memory of an elephant. Every move counts.”

Zane nods, respect clear in his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” With a crooked smile, he nods his head toward the mat. “One more round?”

“You’re on.” I move faster than he can react with that right hook.

As we fall back into our sparring stance, I can’t help but think about how this interaction with Zane might affect my relationships with the other pack members. Each of them brings something unique to the table, and here’s Zane, offering his strength and protection. For the first time, I allow myself to consider that maybe, just maybe, I don’t have to face this alone. Perhaps having a pack at my back isn’t a weakness, but a strength I’ve never allowed myself before.

The thought both terrifies and exhilarates me as we dance across the mat, our movements a physical representation of the delicate balance we’re trying to strike. Trust and caution, hope and fear, and past and future are all intertwined in a complex choreography that we’re just beginning to learn.

20

ZANE

The dojo is quiet,save for the rhythmic sound of our breathing and the soft rustle of fabric as we move. The aftermath of sparring still buzzes in the air, mingling with the gradually brightening morning light that filters through the high windows. Shadows recede, giving way to a warm glow that softens the edges of the room.

Aria stretches nearby, her movements deliberate, as if she’s trying to stretch the tension out of her body. I watch her, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between us.

“How’s your eye?” she asks without looking at me, but there’s a hint of concern lacing her tone.

I touch the swelling around my eye, offering a small shrug. “Nothing I haven’t handled before. You have a good right hook.”

She smiles a little at that, the corners of her mouth twitching upward, and it feels like a win. I lean back, letting the coolness of the mat seep into my skin, and for a moment, we sit in silence. It’s a tentative peace, fragile but real.

“You aren’t what I expected,” Aria says suddenly, her voice quiet but steady.

I glance over, meeting her gaze. “Neither are you.”

She raises an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. “And what did you expect?”

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