I blink at him, unused to being given choices like this. Back home, food was whatever was cheapest or whatever John happened to bring back. The idea that I can just ask for anything seems absurd.
“Lasagna?” I finally say the word, coming out more like a question. I haven’t had a good home-cooked meal in a long time.
Ryker nods to the chef, who bows slightly and disappears back into the kitchen. I watch him go. I’m still half-convinced this is all some elaborate dream.
Before I can gather my thoughts, the rest of the men file into the dining room. They take seats around me at the table, their eyes never leaving my face.
I shift uncomfortably under their scrutiny.
“Where are you from, Anya?” Alaric, the blond one, asks, his tone conversational but his eyes sharp.
“Chicago,” I reply, fidgeting with the edge of my placemat. “But I’ve moved around a lot.”
“And your family?” Lorenzo chimes in, leaning forward with interest. “Do they know you’re here?”
I swallow hard, the familiar ache forming in my chest whenever my past comes up. “My mother left when I was six. My dad raised me after that.”
A heavy silence falls over the table. The men exchange glances, some kind of unspoken communication passing between them that I can’t decipher. My face burns with embarrassment. I shouldn’t have shared something so personal with strangers, especially ones who are acting so weird around me.
Rex, the redheaded one, reaches across the table, placing his warm hand over mine.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says, his voice gentler than I would have expected from his fierce appearance. “It’s possible... well, your mother might have been an omega too. And your father... he might not have been your real dad.”
I snatch my hand away, ice flooding my veins.
“That’s not true,” I snap, but my voice trembles.What the hell was he talking about?These men are acting as if they know me.
“It’s just a thought,” Rex says quickly. “We’re trying to make sense of you being an omega, that’s all. It’s very rare.”
“How was your life after your birth mother left?” Ryker asks quietly.
The question is unexpected. And it makes my heart instantly ache.How was my life?Lonely. Painful. A childhood spent trying to be invisible in my own home, a teenager desperate for any scrap of affection, an adult convinced she’s unworthy of love.
“It wasn’t great,” I say flatly, unwilling to elaborate. I fall silent,staring at my empty plate.
The chef returns, setting a steaming plate of lasagna in front of me. The rich aroma of tomato sauce, herbs, and cheese makes my mouth water instantly. Despite the tension in the room, my stomach growls loudly. I haven’t eaten since a hasty granola bar at breakfast at the hotel.
I take a bite, and a small moan escapes me. The flavors explode on my tongue. The tangy tomato sauce, perfectly seasoned meat, and creamy sauce are all layered between tender pasta. I take another bite, then another, forgetting my audience as I devour the food.
It’s only when I’ve scraped the plate clean that I become aware of the men’s eyes on me. They’ve been watching me eat the entire time, their expressions a mixture of fascination and something darker, more primal. I wipe my mouth with a napkin, embarrassment flooding through me.
The intensity of their gazes makes my skin prickle with unease. A new fear creeps into my mind.What if they won’t let me leave? What if whatever they think I am is rare enough that they’ll keep me here by force?
I straighten my spine, gathering what courage I can muster.
“Ryker,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “You promised to explain what’s happening. What’s an omega? Why do you all keep saying I’m not human? Because I’m scared, and if I don’t get some answers right now, I’m walking out that door.”
Enough games. Enough weird behavior. I need the truth.
“You have wolf blood in you,” Marcus says before Ryker can speak, like he’s commenting on the weather and not shattering my entire concept of reality. My heart stops, my lungs freeze, my world tilts on its axis as I try to process what the fuck he just said.
Wolf blood? As in, actual wolves?The room spins around me, faces blurring as my brain rejects the very notion.
“Wolf blood?” I repeat, my voice climbing higher with each syllable. “What the fuck do you mean, wolf blood?”
My hands start to tremble as I grip the edge of the table.
This can’t be happening. These men can’t possibly be serious. And yet, the predatory way Marcus stalked around me earlier, the way they all keep sniffing the air, suddenly takes on a horrifying new context.
