I want to tell her she’s safe now. That she’s ours, and noone will ever touch her again. But it’s all bullshit. Donall’s coming for her. And we don’t know when.
Rhett rises slowly. His eyes are burning with barely restrained rage, but his movements are calm and controlled. He steps toward Autry and presses a gentle kiss atop her head. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmurs.
She doesn’t respond. She keeps crying, her body shaking with each sob.
Myrick seems to snap out of his trance, blinking back into the moment.
Rhett turns to the beta. “I’m going to make some phone calls,” he says softly, cupping Myrick’s face. He looks at the beta almost as if to make sure he’s okay. Myrick nods at his silent question, then Rhett shifts his gaze to me. The way he looks at me makes it clear he wants to talk.
I follow my pack alpha through the apartment and into the living room. Rhett pauses next to the massive window overlooking the city lights. The moon hangs high in the sky, and the nightlife is in full swing beneath us. Headlights streak as they race down the road, and signs flash like tiny dots at ground level.
“What are you thinking?” Rhett asks quietly.
I exhale a low growl. “I’d like to dig Tallen’s body up, crush his bones into dust, and piss on whatever’s left.”
Rhett fixes me with a stern look—it’s almost fatherly. Then he asks again, “No. I mean—what do you thinkweshould do? We need to move her. Now.”
I swallow, sober now. He’s right. We can’t stay here. But I can’t believe he’s askingme. It’s kind of touching…like he trusts me or values my opinion.It’s a weird sensation.
“Do you have contacts who can get us north?” Rhett asks when I don’t say anything. “Is there some way to getthrough the border without having to go through any checkpoints?”
I shake my head. “I’ve been out of that world too long. The only friend I have left is Brock.” I start to reach for my phone to message him, but Rhett holds out his hand, stopping me.
“I’ll call him. He’s my brother.” He doesn’t say anything else, but I respect it. They have a weird past, and this isn’t my mess to manage.
But I should probably talk to Brock before he gets here. He doesn't know that I’m mated or even a part of Rhett’s pack. Every time I tried to bring it up, I chickened out. After all, Brock has spent the last year telling me how hard and difficult his brother is. And while Rhett is very guarded, he’s also tender and loving with his mates. He’s a good alpha.
But, I’m sure it’ll all be a shock to Brock.
“Okay.” Rhett glances around the room as if suddenly realizing how much stuff he owns. “Get everyone packed. Snacks, medicine, secure documents—only the essentials.”
I hesitate. “What about nesting supplies?”
“That’s not essential,” Rhett says firmly.
“It might seem trivial now, but wait until we have two omegas neck deep in distress.”
Rhett’s eyes narrow, then he nods. “You’re right. Bring it. But no pillows. We can’t take everything.”
I nod, grateful.
“I want us out that door before dawn,” Rhett says. But just as he turns to leave, I stop him.
“Rhett?” I’ve had a single, burning question all night. “Why did Donall tell us about Autry? Why not break down the door and arrest her with the warrant in hand?”
Rhett’s jaw tightens. For a heartbeat, all I see is pain—old woundsreopening.
“My guess?” Rhett sighs. “He wanted to look her in the eyes when he ripped her whole world apart before he put the cuffs on her. Maybe he’s even hoping we’ll reject her tonight.” He shakes his head like there’s no real way to know. “Some fuckers aren’t happy unless they can watch your whole life go up in flames. And Donall is a real piece of shit.”
I hang my head, feeling like complete shit. “I should have killed the fucker.”
“No,” Rhett says firmly, stepping closer and pulling me into his arms. “You did the right thing.”
His embrace is solid and grounding. His scent wraps around me, and for a second, I can finally breathe. I press my nose against his shoulder, soaking in every bit of calm he’s offering. I’ve taken comfort from the rest of our pack—but not Rhett. I thought it might feel too intense, too strange. But this? It feels right.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, pulling back to look at me. He cups my cheek like I’ve seen him do with Myrick a hundred times—steady, sure, gentle. “We’re going to be okay.”
His thumb brushes my cheekbone, and something in me nearly shatters. It’s like he’s giving me permission to be vulnerable, to let someone else be strong for me. A reminder that I don’t have to do this alone.
