Page 19 of In Their Arms

Yesterday, I was scared. Today, I’m pissed. I’m still scared but the anger overrides everything else at the way soft laughter and quiet conversation spreads through the cafeteria, the way that the staff is trying to make all of this seem so normal.

Nola was the one to retrieve me and bring me in here, stating that I’d be introduced to some of the activities in here and then scent cards if I wanted that. Apparently, my words last night meant nothing to her. So, now I’m here, watching Omegas sit around the long wooden tables, chatting, smiling, eating their ridiculous, perfect foods, as if this place isn’t just another type of cage. The scent of warm butter and honey lingers in the air, wrapping around the room like a comfort I should want.

But it’s doing nothing for me.

I shift, rubbing at the side of my neck, expecting the familiar sting of my Alpha’s bond mark, but it’s not there. The salve they put on yesterday is doing exactly what it’s supposed to be doing but it’s driving me crazy. No amount of washing my neck and my face in the bathroom sink brought it back, either. I’m not sure what the ultimate goal is but I just want to go home.

The voices around me fade into background noise as my thoughts turn to what I overheard yesterday—the whispered conversation by the door, the casual mention of Hudson being a sponsor here. Of course, he is.

That means it’s only a matter of time. A matter of days, maybe even hours before Hudson finds himself in here, dragging me back into that godawful apartment while I suffer, unable to escape. He’ll never let me go a second time. I won’t be able to leave that house. There will be no shifts at the diner and he’ll expect my ass up every time he walks in the door.

The thought makes my stomach churn, my skin crawl. I push back from the table abruptly, the chair scraping against the tiled floor, drawing a few curious looks. I don’t say anything. I don’t owe anyone an explanation. Nola is glaring at me from across the room but honestly, fuck her. This whole place was marketed as a sanctuary for Omegas and it’s the complete opposite.

I don’t stop until I make it up to the room they’ve given me, all the pillows and blankets miraculously back on the bed, situated in the most horrid circle. Whoever put it back togetherdefinitelyisn’t an Omega and while they tried their best, there’s now the faint scent of citrus in here that belongs to someone who isn’t my mates.

“Well, not sitting there anymore,” I tell myself, finding a little spot in the corner, one lone pillow devoid of any scents giving me comfort. I wish I still had that scarf Grayson had brought home from Luther. Instead, I have the lingering scents of my Alpha and Blake on my shirt, one that I refuse to change out of. There’s new clothes on the dresser but fuck that bullshit.

Anger swirls through my chest, my Omega telling me to right what’s wrong. It’s the first time I’ve felt anger rather than fear, rage instead of terror and leaning into it is glorious. It gives me a bit of strength and sanity to not completely fall apart in this place. I just have to figure out how to get back to Blake, to wrap myself up in him and never let him go.

A soft knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts. A man steps inside, an older Beta, his presence calm but not imposing. He closes the door behind him gently, like he’s trying not to startle me, like he’s done this before. For some reason, I don’t feel immediately threatened but that doesn’t mean I’m not on guard.

I lift my head slightly, my voice rough, tired. “What do you want?”

The Beta leans against the dresser, watching me carefully but not intrusively.

I shift, rubbing at my wrist, my body still curled in on itself. “Let me guess. You came to tell me that all I need to do is stop worrying and everything will work itself out? That I need to return to the cafeteria and finish my food? Or maybe you have a billion activities I can partake in like those fucking scent cards to find me a new, posh pack?”

Oh.Oh.Removing the tether of my bonds has reverted me back to the Omega I was before I ever had them, before I met Hudson, when it was just me and Blake against the world. I was a bratty little shit, unattached, and even when I presented—terrified as I was—I was stilla lot.And now everyone in this place is about to see just how much of a handful I can be. Well,great.

The Beta exhales a long, weighted sigh. He doesn’t speak right away, just drags a chair up to the dresser and lowers himself into it with the kind of ease that says he’s done this before. The scrape of the chair legs against the floor makes me flinch, but he doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he does and just doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he watches me, taking in the way I’ve curled in on myself, pressed into the corner of the room like I can disappear into the wall if I try hard enough.

“I’m Wilson,” he finally says. “And I’d be lying to you if I tried to give you the same speech everyone else does. Omegas that come through here are rarely ever new, bright-eyed individuals in search of their first pack. Many of the ones here were broken or discarded in some way, very few in situations like yours.”

I narrow my gaze at him, waiting for the catch but there doesn’t seem to be one.

“This is all routine,” he continues. “I have to log the information. Then I leave you alone and you get to experience life here outside of a pack. Whatever comes after that is a mixture of your choice and whatever the center thinks is best.”

I snort, shaking my head as I shift against the one stiff pillow with me. “I won’t be here long. My Alpha—my mates will come get me. I’m happily bonded and that won’t change with whatever the nurses gave me to erase them. ”

Wilson nods slowly, completely unfazed. “And who is your Alpha?”

I don’t hesitate. “Luther and Grayson.”

Wilson hums, crossing one leg over the other, settling into a more relaxed position. The tension in my body doesn’t ease, but something about the way he carries himself makes me loosen my fingers from where they were digging into the pillow. Like he’s not here to fight me. Like he’s not here to convince me that I belong here. “I’ve read a lot of files over the years,” he says casually, like it’s just a passing thought. “But yours is one of the most complicated I’ve seen.”

I frown, sitting up a little. “I have a file? I’ve only been here for a day. Not even a full one.”

He exhales through his nose, like he’s weighing how much he wants to tell me. “That’s what makes it so interesting. I only just managed to get a look at it before the head of the center locked it away.”

I shift again, pulling my knees to my chest, my voice softer than before. “Why would they do that?”

“Your case isn’t exactly… standard. From what I gathered, there’s a domestic dispute and someone thought it would be better if you were removed altogether, despite the Alphas you would prefer being with. Typically, Omegas brought into the center from situations like this have a few options. They can stay here until they find a new Alpha or return to their parents.”

I scrunch up my nose, shaking my head before he even finishes. “I’m not going back there.”

Wilson doesn’t look surprised.

“My parents,” I continue, my voice thick with frustration, “all but sold me to the very Alpha that started this whole mess. Going back to them isn’t an option.” It’s the same words I said to Nola but there’s such a difference in the way Wilson digests that information.

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