Page 14 of Omega Hunted

Every instinct I had turned inward, years of survival dropping back into place with such force it made me feel sick. Make yourself smaller. Quieter. Easier to handle. Don’t provoke him unless you have to.

The hand on my hip didn’t tighten, and the body behind me stayed loose with sleep, but none of that mattered because he was still an alpha and close enough to overpower me in seconds.

I listened instead, because listening kept me alive, and I focused on the sound of breathing, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the warmth trapped beneath the blankets, and the faint scrape of stubble near the back of my neck.

Then my cat stirred.

Alpha, he murmured, unafraid, and that was the part that hurt so badly my chest ached.

There was no panic from him, no warning growl or desperate instinct to run. He leaned toward the scent at my back, slow and curious, affection flooding our bond, and purred softly at the scent of this wolf.

I almost broke apart right there. Six months of silence. He hadn’t come back for me. He hadn’t come back for Asha. But he woke for me, escaping Center 14, and now for this alpha. I had to bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to stop myself crying.

Fear crept back in, not the sharp, blind panic from before, but something colder as my memories caught up with me. Memory returned in fragments: snow and the crash and trees looming out of the dark, a wolf watching me from the road while I repeated the names Cassian and Ronan to stop myself panicking because they were the only things left in my head that still felt real.

Was this Cassian? It had to be.

He moved slightly, and I tried to ease away, but his hand on my hip followed me before stopping, his body reacting on pure instinct.

My breath caught.

“Are you okay?” His voice was rough with sleep, deep enough that I felt it in my chest, and concern threaded through the words quietly enough that it hurt.

My family. The Daltons. Center 14? I couldn’t remember the last time concern from an alpha hadn’t come with ownership. My response was humiliating, as warmth, safety, and need hit me so fast they made me feel sick. I stilled as the baby rolled again, slow and heavy beneath my hand, and a desperate please flashed through my head.

He waited without crowding me. He didn’t tighten his grip or raise his voice when I stayed silent, and his touch stayed gentle while his breathing remained slow and even behind me.

“Please let me go,” I begged, the words barely working around the tightness in my throat.

Silence stretched for half a second before he answered. “Of course.” The mattress moved while cold air slid across my bare skin where his body had been.

For a second, I didn’t understand. I’d expected a question. A refusal. Irritation. Some clipped alpha correction about how I was hurt, that he knew better, and that I needed to stay still. Instead, he let me go. No argument. No hand tightening to remind me he could keep me there if he wanted. No soft voice telling me not to be difficult.

“There,” he murmured. “I’m away.”

Confusion warred with panic, and my hands stayed on my stomach as I stared at the blankets wrapped around me, aware of how vulnerable I was and hating that I noticed the loss of warmth. Asha was steady and alive beneath my palm. I dragged another careful breath into my lungs.

“Stay away,” I warned, knowing that my warning meant nothing. “Just stay away.”

“I will.” Then, after a pause, “What’s your name?” Giving him my name could mean my brother finding me, so I stayed quiet, and he didn’t push. “I’m Cassian,” he said.

I’d made it to the place Ronan wanted me to be, and to the alpha wolf, and he said it was part of Haven. Was I safe? What did I know about The Haven Network, apart from the whispered hopes of imprisoned omegas? I needed to leave.

Where will you go? My cat whispered.

I don’t know! I don’t know anything.

There was nowhere else to go, and people without choices got trapped and hurt, eventually, no matter how safe things appeared in the beginning. I’d never known a safe place.

“Where’s Ronan?” I asked.

“I thought you could tell me that.”

“I don’t know; he wouldn’t come with me. He made me leave, and I tried to get him to go in the car… he was protecting me. Bullets hit him, but he shifted…”

Cassian went pale, but said nothing. I wondered who Ronan was to this alpha, and how close they were. Instead of asking more, he focused on me. “How do you feel?” he asked when I’d stayed quiet long enough. “Do you need anything?”

I almost laughed at the question because everything hurt, from my body to my head to the crushing ache sitting in the middle of my chest. The grief inside me felt as thick and heavy as wet cement, and somehow I was lying naked in a stranger’s bed reacting to the sound of his voice while my body ignored every lesson survival had taught me.