Page 15 of Pack Obsession

She shifts, pulling her knees closer to her chest, and I catch the slight tremor in her hands before she hides it. Playing brave while terrified—another thing I recognize too well.

"You often watch girls? It’s creepy." Her voice carries forced lightness, but she doesn’t turn around.

"I’ve been called worse." I step into the room, deliberately keeping my footsteps audible. She tenses anyway, fingers curling into the couch cushions.

"So, what’s the verdict?" Still facing away, using the window’s reflection to track my movement. Smart girl. "When do you hand me over to Julian?"

"We don’t."

She flinches slightly.

I ease into an opposite couch, maintaining a clear space between us.

"You’ll stay here. For now."

That gets her attention. She turns slowly, eyes narrowing as she studies me.

"Just like that?"

"With rules."

"Of course." A bitter smile touches her lips. "There are always rules for Omegas."

"These are to keep you safe." And us sane, but that’s not something she needs to hear. "No going outside without one of us. No phone calls. No visitors."

"No escape attempts?" There’s a challenge in her tone, but underneath it, fear.

"Would you believe me if I said you don’t need to escape?"

She meets my eyes then, really looks at me, and I see the moment she decides to be honest. "No. I wouldn’t."

The raw truth in those words hits harder than any challenge could. Her fingers find her hair, twisting the ends as silence stretches between us.

"Rule number four," I say finally. "No going into the east wing basement."

Something flickers across her face—curiosity warring with caution. "Why? What’s down there?"

"That’s not your concern." I grin.

She swallows. "Very Bluebeard of you."

"This isn’t a fairy tale," I remind her of the danger she is in if Julian is determined to find her.

"No," she whispers, more to herself than me. "It really isn’t."

The TV drones on, neither of us paying attention. She’s drawn up tighter now, making herself smaller in that instinctive way Omegas have when they feel threatened, but her chin stays lifted, defiant despite her fear.

"Why?" she asks suddenly. "Why help me? You don’t know me."

"We are learning enough to see that the rumors might be real." About Julian. About how he terrifies this Omega. The rage rises that we made a deal with him in the first place, how the money made us blind-sighted, but I force it down. Not the time.

"Do you?" Color touches her cheeks, but she holds my gaze. "Or do you just think you do?"

"I know you’re running from something worse than us."

Her breath catches. For a moment, I think she might cry, but she masters it.

She looks away first, fingers still working that hair.

---