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All I know is that if she tries to leave us…
I can’t be responsible for my actions.
17
HARPER
Omega.
The word plays in my mind like a curse.
Everyone lied.
Michael lied.
James, Grey, Beau—they all knew the entire time.
I put my head in my hands and collapse on the bed, struggling to breathe.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Even Charlotte knew.
The signs were there, but I didn’t put it together.
Cramps. Arousal. Wetness.
The bruise on my shoulder, which I realize is a fuckingmating gland.
I’m an Omega.
I scream into my hands, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks.
Part of me understands why they didn’t tell me, though.
Would I have believed them? How could I, when my identification card saysBeta?
Michael faked documents.
Is my name actually Harper?
Is my birthday October 16th? Or is it just a random number he decided?
Did he even know me before the car accident?
Breathe, Harper, c’mon.
I feel a wet nose nudge at my arm.
Wilson purrs loudly, rubbing the side of his face against me.
“I’m not mad at you,” I assure him, scratching under his chin. His eyes turn into thin slits, and he huffs out a satisfied breath.
WhoshouldI be mad at?
Michael first, of course.
And then…myself.
