"I love you. You gave me structure when I didn't have any. You gave me a tie and a restaurant and a hotel room and every single one of those things was you sayingyou're worth thisand I didn't believe you at first but I believe you now. I believe you."
Atlas leans forward. Presses his forehead against mine. Skin against skin. The same gesture from the pond, except this time I'm the one saying how I feel.
We stay like that for a long time. The four of us on a hotel couch, tangled together, crying or trying not to cry or done crying and just breathing. The bonds wide open and steady. No pulling. No stretching. Just here.
Eventually the tears slow. The breathing evens. Zero's head is in my lap. Bane is beside me with his hand still in my hair. Atlas is on my other side, his shoulder against mine, his hand still on my neck.
I breathe in deep and sit up a little straighter. "I… need to call Margot."
Bane reaches into his pocket. Hands me his phone without a word.
I dial her number. I know it by heart—she made me memorize it the week she adopted me, before I had a phone of my own.In case of emergency, sweetheart. You call this number and I will come get you.
It rings four times. Voicemail. Her recorded voice—bright, steady, the Margot from before last night—asking me to leave a message.
"Mom. It's me. I'm safe. I'm—" My voice wavers. I press my hand against my thigh. "I'm safe. Call me back. I'm on Bane's phone."
I hang up. Set the phone on my knee.
It rings eleven seconds later.
I pick up.
"Max?" Her voice is wrecked. Hoarse. She's been crying for hours. She must have seen Bane's number flash across her screen a dozen times tonight and sent every one to voicemail—but this message was my voice, not his. "Max, oh God. Where are you? Are you safe? I've been—"
"I left my phone at the house. I'm safe. I'm at a hotel with the boys."
The silence that follows is a different kind. The kind that has edges.
"With them..."
"With them, Mom. That's what I need to talk to you about."
I can hear her breathing. Unsteady. The shaky inhale of someone bracing for something they don't want to hear.
"They didn't hurt me," I say. Steady. Clear. There’s no more room for misunderstandings. I won’t let there be. "I need you to hear that. What you saw last night—what Richard saw—it isn't what you think. They didn't take advantage of me. They didn't manipulate me. I'm not a victim, Mom. Not of them."
"Max—"
"I know what it looks like. I know how it sounds. Three older brothers and a younger omega under the same roof—I know the story you're telling yourself right now because it's the same story Richard told himself in the foyer and it's wrong. It's wrong, Mom."
Her breathing catches. I keep going.
"I love them. All three of them. I've loved them for months. It started because of the bond but it stayed because of who they are. Who I am when I'm with them. They didn't makeme smaller. They made me brave enough to be the size I actually am."
I can hear her crying. Quiet. Trying not to let me hear it.
"Mom, there's something else. Something I need to tell you that's going to be hard to hear."
Her breathing changes. Bracing.
"A few months ago—while I was living in the house, while you were there—I was taken. By an organization that traffics omegas." I close my eyes. Bane's hand tightens in my hair. "They had me in a facility. A cell. They were going to sell me."
"What?" The word is barely a sound. "Max—when? Wnen you were—you said you were staying with a friend on campus—"
"That was a lie. The brothers told you that to protect you. To protect me." I swallow. "They found out what happened. They got me out. Bane walked into that building and brought me home. Atlas built a legal case to bring the whole organization down. Zero—Zero would have burned it to the ground if they'd let him." My voice cracks for the first time. I let it. "They saved my life, Mom. While you were downstairs making dinner, while Richard was in his office—they were getting me out of a concrete cell. I need you to know that. Whatever you think of what you saw last night—they saved my life. They protected me when nobody else even knew I was gone."
The silence on the other end is total. I can hear her trying to breathe.
