Page 43 of In Their Arms

Blake has started working again, in small bursts, but Luca is never far. He’s either curled up in Blake’s lap, head tucked against his chest, fingers toying with the hem of Blake’s shirt, or he’s actively trying to distract him. The kind of distractions that inevitably lead to Blake growling, shoving his laptop aside, and dragging Luca back to one of their nests.

The entire house is thick with the scent of it. Sweet, addictive. Makes it damn near impossible to focus on anything else when all I can smell is the aftershock of their need, the way they wind each other up until all I can hear is the soft, breathless sounds slipping through the walls.

And yet, that’s not the worst part. The worst part is waiting. Waiting for the DNA results. Waiting to see if Hudson will call. Waiting for the next fucking bomb to drop.

The company is set for the next game launch, everything running smoothly without needing our direct attention, but even that feels like a temporary victory. Because every spare moment has been spent diving into Hudson’s past, combing through records, trying to find the missing pieces that keep slipping through our fingers.

And what we’ve found so far? It’s fucking appalling.

I lean back against the fridge, arms crossed over my chest, my eyes drifting over the mess of papers strewn across the kitchen island. Across from me, Maceo leans over the counter, flipping through one of the files. Grayson stands beside him, sipping from a cup of coffee, his gaze flicking between us. I exhale slowly, shaking my head as I scan the information in front of me again. “I don’t understand how no one has noticed how many Omegas he’s had in his home before Luca,” I mutter. “Does no one fucking care?”

Maceo drags a hand through his hair, flipping to another page before glancing up. “That’s not the weirdest part. It’s the fact that we don’t know where any of these Omegas are.”

I stiffen. “What do you mean?”

Maceo presses his lips into a thin line, tapping his fingers against the paper in front of him. “There’s no record of them after being with Hudson. No public divorces. No transfers of care to another pack. Nothing.” His eyes meet mine. “It’s like they just disappeared.”

A chill runs down my spine.

“If he was killing them, there’d be more suspicion,” Maceo continues. “More police involvement. More something. But there’s just… nothing.”

The weight of his words settles over the room, thick and suffocating.

Grayson exhales, shaking his head, then slowly gravitating toward Maceo. I watch as it happens, as it has been happening, as it will continue to happen. He’s drawn to him, in ways he probably hasn’t even realized yet, and it’s fucking fascinating to witness. I smile, watching as Grayson nudges Maceo’s arm, watching as Maceo leans into it just slightly, barely noticeable unless you’re looking for it.

Then Maceo slides an arm around Grayson’s waist, pulling him closer, fingers curling just slightly over his hip. Grayson instinctively relaxes, like it’s nothing, like it’s just another touch among a hundred others. I roll my tongue against my teeth, my mind drifting to what’ll happen when Grayson finally stops hesitating, when he gives in completely, when he’s between us, breathing heavy, wrecked and taken apart.

Maceo catches on to my train of thought, a slow, wicked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, fingers flexing slightly against Grayson’s hip, like he’s already thinking about it too. Like he’s just waiting.

Grayson doesn’t notice. He’s too focused, too deep in his own frustration as he stares down at the papers in front of him. “I’ve checked the registry,” he mutters, flipping through one of the files again. “Luca is the only Omega Hudson has ever married. He’s never registered any of the others either, so there’s just no record. How the fuck is that even possible? If he claimed them in some way, there should be paperwork. Transfers. Pack movements. Something.”

“Maybe it’s time to pick another tactic,” I murmur, pushing away from the fridge and reaching for the stack of documents spread across the counter. My fingers skim over pages of information, images, notes. I scan the list of Omegas we suspect Hudson has taken over the years, women and men who were with him for months at a time before they just… disappeared.

The more I look, the worse it gets. Then, something catches my eye. A familiar face, a sharp jawline, piercing eyes. I frown, turning the picture toward Maceo. “Wait. Is this one of the Omegas that was Hudson’s?”

Maceo glances down, his brows furrowing. Then he nods. “Yeah. Kaylee Donovan. She was with Hudson for almost three months.”

Something doesn’t sit right. The name, the face. My mind pulls at something just out of reach, a memory I can’t quite grab onto. I stare at the image, my stomach twisting. I know this woman.

Grayson catches the change in my expression. “What?”

I shake my head, my grip tightening on the edge of the paper. “I know her pack, not personally, though,” I clarify, still staring, still trying to place where I’ve seen her before. “The Vizant pack but her name is Leia, not Kaylee.”

Grayson blinks, confusion flickering across his face. “Wait, what?”

I drag a hand down my face, the weight of this entire mess settling deeper into my bones. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, shaking my head as I flip through the pages again. None of it makes sense, but the pieces are starting to fit, and I don’t like what it’s shaping into. “For some reason, Hudson is renaming them. Giving them away.”

Grayson frowns, shifting his weight, arms crossing over his chest. He looks as frustrated as I feel. “Who the hell is the Vizant family?”

Maceo, still leaning over the counter, barely looks up from the file in his hands. “They’re pretty influential. On the same level as the mayor.” He taps a finger against the paper, thoughtful. “They live just outside the city. One of the investors in the company, actually.”

Grayson’s eyebrows shoot up. “How did we not know this?”

“They aren’t very showy about their Omega,” I explain, flipping the picture back toward me, staring at Leia Vizant or Kaylee Donovan, or whatever the hell Hudson called her before she disappeared. “And if Hudson is caught up in some shit like this, it would make sense that it’s quiet.”

Grayson exhales sharply, shaking his head like he’s trying to put the pieces together in real time. “Do you think this is why Hudson wants Luca back so bad?”

Maceo tilts his head slightly, considering. “That wouldn’t make sense. He abused Luca. He marked him, unlike the others.”

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