“Hotels are full because of evacuees,” Silas reminded me gently. “And you don’t barely know us. We’ve spent the past six weeks building something, even if we haven’t named it.”
“Six weeks isn’t enough time to trust someone with this.”
“Then tell us what would be enough.” Beau turned in his seat to look at me. “Because from where I’m sitting, six weeks of showing up every day matters more than six years of empty promises.”
I wanted to argue, but the heat was building faster now. Making it hard to think, hard to maintain the walls I’d so carefully constructed.
“I can’t be vulnerable with you,” I said, hating how my voice shook. “I can’t let you see me like that and then face you afterward. It’s too much.”
“Why?” Dane’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “What are you afraid we’ll see?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with implication.
What was I afraid of?
That I was too much. Too independent, too difficult, too demanding. That they’d see me at my most vulnerable and decide, like Nathan had, that I wasn’t worth the effort. That I’d open myself up and they’d walk away, and I’d have to rebuild the walls all over again except this time they’d be even harder to maintain because I’d know what I was missing.
“I’m afraid you’ll realize I’m exactly what my former alpha said I was,” I finally admitted. “Too difficult. Too strong-willed. More trouble than any pack would want.”
The truck went very quiet.
Then Silas said, voice soft but intense, “Who the hell told you that?”
“My bonding ceremony. Five years ago. Nathan took one look at me standing there in my wedding dress and told two hundred guests that he couldn’t bond with an omega who was this difficult. That I challenged everything, didn’t submit properly, was more alpha than omega.” The words came out flat, emotionless. I’d practiced saying them without feeling anything. “He said I’d die alone because no pack would want an omega who acted like she didn’t need one.”
“Jesus Christ,” Beau said.
Dane’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “He rejected you. During the ceremony.”
“In front of everyone. My family. His family. Friends. Colleagues.” I stared out the window at the storm-damaged landscape. “So you see why I can’t do this. Why I can’t let you three see me vulnerable. Because when you realize I’m exactly what he said I was, I’d prefer you not have front-row seats to my heat.”
No one spoke for a long moment. Then Silas reached over and took my hand.
“Sable. Look at me.”
I didn’t want to, but something in his voice made me turn.
“That alpha was an idiot,” he said clearly. “A coward who couldn’t handle a partner with a spine. And the fact that you’ve built this life, this career, this identity after that kind of public humiliation just proves how strong you are.”
“Strength isn’t what alphas want in an omega.”
“Then they’re not worth having.” Beau’s voice was rough with emotion. “Your strength is what draws me. I don’t want someone to save. I want a partner who can save me back.”
“We’re not asking you to be something you’re not,” Dane added. “We’re asking you to let us see who you actually are. And maybe trust that what we see is exactly what we want.”
The heat was getting worse. I could feel it building in my core, spreading through my limbs, making everything too sensitive and too intense. And underneath it, something else. Something that felt like hope trying to break through five years of careful defenses.
“I don’t know how to trust like that,” I whispered.
“Then we’ll figure it out together,” Silas said. “One step at a time. Starting with getting you somewhere safe and proving we’re not going anywhere.”
The truck turned onto a narrow mountain road, trees closing in on both sides. We climbed higher, the town disappearing behind us, until we reached a gate with a security keypad.
Dane punched in a code and the gate swung open.
“Welcome to the safe house,” he said quietly. “You’re secure here. Whatever happens next, you’re secure.”
The house came into view as we rounded the final curve. Not what I expected. I’d imagined something sterile and utilitarian, all concrete and reinforced steel. Instead, it was wood and stone, nestled into the mountainside like it had grown there. Small but solid, with large windows that somehow didn’t compromise the defensive positioning.
