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“She does,” I nodded, “but everyone in this pack is aware that omegas are highly protective of their homes and nests. If glitter and fat baby angels makes you happy, we’ll go to the store today and buy what you need to make this place your home.”
I pulled her toward the sofa, dropping into the corner that joined two sections together before tugging her down beside me. My shoulder twinged at the movement, but I brushed off the pain in favor of making sure Hazel sat as close to me as possible, touching me, instead of somewhere else.
Hazel pulled her legs up, picking at a piece of lint on her fuzzy pajama bottoms. They were plain black and I was pretty sure the oversized FBI shirt she was wearing was one of Kellan’s. Her long hair was piled into a messy bun atop her head.
She was heartbreakingly adorable, and I wasn’t hating the fact that getting shot meant I got to keep her to myself for the day while the others handled the bureau shit.
She nudged me with a fuzzy-sock-covered toe. “You know, for someone who just said omegas don’t like decisions, asking me if I wanted to redecorate your house seemed a little weird. Or is that just what you ask all the girls you bring home?”
I frowned, not liking what she was insinuating. “You’re the only omega we’ve brought home. Other than family members, I mean.”
“Good to know,” she replied, but her smile was a little too plastic and bright.
“None of us are saints, Hazel,” I admitted. “Rhett and I have been together for a few years, but we’re both bi. Sometimes we’d bring a woman home, too. Crew and Kellan have brought women here from time to time as well.”
Hazel’s expression turned mutinous, but she tried—and failed—to hide it. “Of course you did.”
“I’m not saying that to upset you,” I said gently, squeezing her hand. “I guess I’m just trying to say that those women never mattered, and none of them were an omega. You’re here less than two days, and I’m pretty sure we’d all give you access to our bank account if you even hinted you wanted to completely demolish and rebuild the house.”
Her head tilted. “Doesn’t that seem weird? That because I smell a certain way, you guys are ready to let me do whatever I want?”
I considered her words and where she was coming from. “Maybe for Crew, Rhett, and Kellan it makes sense. They’re alphas. From what I’ve learned, alphas and omegas are driven by biological needs. For me, it’s because I know you.”
“You knew the girl trapped in a cage by a psycho,” she pointed out. “You didn’t know me before.”
“Maybe, but it’s different now. Maybe because my packmates feel so strongly about you, it’s making it easier for me to see how perfectly you fit with us.” I tapped the tip of her nose. “But if that’s something you’re worried about, tell me about who you were. Who you are.”
She let out a frustrated little growl. “That’s the thing, Jude. I can’t. I can tell you that four years ago, I thought I was a beta. That I expected to meet a beta guy in college, get married, and maybe one day have a couple of kids. But none of that will happen now.”
My heart ached for her and all she’d endured. For the future that had been ripped away in more ways than one.
“I don’t know anything about pack life beyond what I’ve seen in the movies and read about in books.” Her brow furrowed, little frustrated lines appearing that I wanted to smooth away with my thumbs.
“You could take college classes online,” I offered.
She shot me a look. “We both know it isn’t the same thing.”
“No, it isn’t,” I agreed. “And from what I’ve gathered, you also never had time to really accept your true designation.”
She shook her head slightly, paling. “It all happened so fast.” Her eyes dimmed as her mind seemed to trap her in a memory.
“You can tell me about it,” I offered softly. “Not that you have to, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”
She was silent for a long time. Enough time that I wondered if I’d gone too far, pushed for too much. I didn’t want to rip open old wounds.
“It happened right after I turned eighteen,” she whispered, pulling away from me and sitting with her legs criss-crossed. She twisted her fingers together on her lap. “My periods had always been kinda weird, and I’d had a boyfriend before… well, before. When my mom was still alive, she took me to the doctor for a birth control implant.”
I turned so I was fully facing her, giving her my undivided attention.
She shook her head slightly. “I’m not trying to give you a lesson on my reproductive system, but I think it explains why I didn’t think anything was wrong. After the implant, my periods were super light, and then my period stopped altogether after I was taken. I figured it was because of the stress and the hormones from the implant.”
“Okay, all of that makes sense,” I assured her. Talking to girls about their periods and birth control had always seemed like the last thing I wanted to do, but with Hazel, I wanted to know it all. No detail about her life was too small, too insignificant.
Hazel sighed heavily. “We were in the middle of a meeting that had been called for everyone at APA. One of those awful ones where punishments were being handed out. The High—I mean, Donovan, was punishing a beta whose husband claimed she was having an affair.” Her eyes lifted to me. “I don’t think she was.”
I nodded, my throat dry. I had a feeling I knew where this was going. I’d been inside the APA compound long enough to know Donovan favored certain punishments over others.
Humiliation, degradation, and pain in front of an audience were his go-to.
