“To us,” Dane added.
We clinked glasses, and through the bonds I felt the truth of it. We were building something real. Not perfect, not easy, but genuine and worth every risk we took.
And that was more than enough.
Chapter 24
Silas
The call came through on a Tuesday afternoon while I was restocking the ambulance after a routine transport. Nothing urgent, just Mrs. Murphy’s weekly dialysis trip to County General. The kind of call that let me think about other things while my hands worked through familiar motions.
Things like how Sable had smiled this morning when Beau brought her coffee. How Dane had actually laughed at one of my jokes last night instead of just giving me that flat look that said he thought I was ridiculous. How the four of us were starting to feel less like four separate people sharing space and more like an actual pack.
Then my phone buzzed with a text from the emergency services group chat.
Margaret:FYI, there’s a Nathan Reynolds asking questions at the county office about Sable. Says he’s an old friend. Wanted her current work location. I told him I’d pass along his contactinfo if she wanted to reach out. Seemed off. Thought you should know.
My scent-sensitivity immediately picked up on my own spike of alarm, even through text. Nathan. The alpha who’d rejected Sable at their bonding ceremony. The one who’d called her too much, too difficult, not omega enough.
The one who’d broken something fundamental inside her that we were still helping her heal.
I typed back quickly.Thanks for the heads up. We’ll handle it.
Then I sent a message to the pack group chat.Nathan is in town. Margaret says he’s looking for Sable. Everyone be aware.
The responses came immediately.
Dane:Where is she now?
Beau:At her office. I just dropped off lunch.
Me:I’m heading there. Nobody panic, but nobody let her be alone with him either.
Dane:On my way.
Beau:Same.
I finished restocking in record time, signed off with dispatch for a break, and headed for the emergency services building where Sable’s coordinator office was located. My sensitivity was already picking up on emotions from a distance. Anxiety, anger, discomfort. Something was happening.
When I rounded the corner to the hallway where her office sat, I saw him immediately.
Nathan Reynolds looked exactly like the kind of alpha who thought the world owed him something. Expensive suit, perfectly styled hair, the kind of posture that said he expected deference. He was standing in Sable’s doorway, blocking her exit, his body language all wrong for a friendly visit.
And I could smell her distress from twenty feet away.
My usual humor evaporated. The performance I kept up to keep people at comfortable distance disappeared entirely. This was someone threatening my omega, and my alpha was done pretending to be harmless.
I moved down the hallway with purpose, no longer the easygoing paramedic who made everything seem light and fun. Every protective instinct I’d been suppressing for eight years roared to life.
Nathan was mid-sentence when I reached them. “...just want to talk, Sable. Five years is a long time. People change. I’ve changed. I realize now that I made a mistake.”
“You need to leave.” Sable’s voice was carefully controlled, but through the bond I felt her panic. Felt her fighting between her professional coordinator mask and her omega biology that remembered this alpha had hurt her.
“I’m not leaving until we talk properly.” Nathan’s scent was all wrong. Possessive, demanding, the kind of alpha who thought persistence was the same as devotion. “You owe me that much.”
“She doesn’t owe you anything,” I said, my voice colder than I’d ever let it be in public. No humor. No lightness. Just flat statement of fact. “And you’re going to leave.Now.”
Nathan turned, and I watched his expression shift from surprise to assessment to dismissal. He didn’t see a threat. He saw a paramedic in rumpled scrubs who probably couldn’t back up whatever posturing he was attempting.
