Page 63 of Who We Were

But it was all a lie.

My omega wasn't swimming in fancy dresses and jewelry. Fancy bubbly beverages and delicious pastries weren't on her menu. A beautiful nest with a canopy of warm fairy lights and silk sheets weren't there. Amaya didn't laugh with new friends or go on dates.

My beautiful mate had nothing.

Everything she ever had and loved, even fucking hated, was ripped from her in the middle of the night, just as she was torn away from us.

And I never fucking questioned it.

Anger slammed me in the gut, and a deep-rooted grudge for the girl I loved took hold not only of my brain, but my heart. I turned cold in the wake of Amaya's absence, nodisappearance, stealing every bit of the boy I once was.

When was the last time I truly smiled? Or laughed?

Every smirk drawn from the depths of my black soul has been fake either for my mom, or due to too much alcohol.

I didn't do the right thing, didn't protect my mate, all because of aperceivedbetrayal. When my parents find out, they'll never want to see my face again. I wouldn't either.

Amaya didn't abandon me; I abandoned her.

So as I sit here, eyes burning with tears with a smashed bottle of booze in the kitchen sink, I realize I would do anything to turn back time and take Maya's place.

My beautiful little petal never once deserved the dark dungeon and certainly not the starvation. She should never have had to endure weight checks or bare mattresses. My omega, and every omega out there should,neverbe subjected to a heat spent alone, drugged, and experimented on.

I might have some sexual hangups because no other woman can touch me or even fucking flirt with me without my alpha nature rising up with a snarl and a sickening sensation, but I can't imagine the after effects my mate is dealing with.

The guys told me about her nightmare that brought the police screeching down our street.

I would never expect anyone to come out unscathed from that fucking academy, but I never thought Amaya, the girl I grew up with and loved for as long as I can remember, would know trauma such as that. And I definitely never thought I would live two houses down from her, and not be there to support her in the healing process.

Self-loathing and determination made me smash my bottle of liquor to shreds an hour ago before I decided I needed to learn everything about what Amaya endured.

Reading about The Premium Designation Academy is different than hearing the horrors from her lips. I know that, but it's a start. A start to understanding who she has become and who I am going to be because Amaya isn't the girl I once knew, and there's no way in hell I am going to continue being the man I devolved into.

It's that same determination and self-loathing that has megentlyclosingmylaptop and making my way to the front door. Em and Oli left a while ago to see Amaya, and it's about time I face my mistakes too.

The cool breeze makes my wild blond hair tickle my ears and tosses a little excitement into my steps. Fall used to be mine and Amaya's favorite time of year.

I don't make it very far down my driveway before I notice my brother and pack mate walking back home toward me. Disappointment slows my steps. I took too long to follow. My drooping shoulders stiffen when I see two cars and a motorcycle in her driveway.Is she moving?! She can't be moving!

With matching frowns, Emmett and Oliver approach me, but before they can question or yell at me, I ask them what the hell is going on over there.

"Why do you care?" Oliver questions with narrowed eyes.

Emmett places his hand on Oli's lower back and continues to guide him forward. "Let's talk inside," he says to both of us, probably thinking we'll cause a scene.

Once the door closes behind us, I demand the answers currently giving me enough anxiety to tremble. "Is she moving? Who's over there and who the hell drives the motorcycle? She better not get on that fucking death trap." The last part comesout as a snarl that not only surprises me but both of my pack mates too.

"I repeat—" Oli starts, but Em gives him a little shove into the living room.

"Let's not repeat anything that's going to come out with that tone. I already have a headache without you two hurling insults," Emmett grumbles and falls onto the couch. I open my mouth, but the alpha cutsmeoff too. "Sam, please, for the love of literallyeverything, keep this civil and respectful.Bothof you." He shoots a look at his beta.

I want to scowl and deny I would be anything but civil and respectful, Ireallydo, but he has every right to admonish me before I even speak. I give him a curt nod and settle into my armchair.

A sigh of relief puffs out of him, but Oliver still stands and paces the length of the room. Ignoring him, I wait for Emmett to explain.

Reverently, like he's holding onto a memory he's afraid to lose, Emmett whispers, "She spoke to us."

I frown. "Why do you sound so shocked?"

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