Mia didn't sleep.
She was wrapped up in the old couch in her apartment, shrouded in a threadbare blanket, her cup undisturbed on the coffee table. The moonlight that poured through the window was white and icy and swept across her skin in a brush-like touch of the connection that had ceased to be.
It was still there, nonetheless.
Thin. Frayed. But real!
Lucas held onto her senses like smoke — immovable, protective, infuriating.
Rescued her again.
He had...!
And resented that part of her had not been shocked. That it had felt instinctual, the way his body had shifted between hers and the rogue's like a living shield. The way they had moved in unison in that flash of threat, fighting together.
It didn't undo what he had done.
You don't get to dismiss me in front of everyone and then show up acting heroic,
Her wolf growled inside her.
But it still wants him.
She rubbed her face in frustration
She had come here to escape.
To recover.
Not to be dragged back into feelings sharper than knives.
The knock at the door made her heart skip a beat.
Not loud.
Just a tap tap.
Mia stiffened. Her wolf awakened. Familiar and safe.
Still, she approached slowly.
She opened the door.
Emmmmmmmmmmmmm_____
Her best friend smiled bashfully, her wild red curls spilling from under her knit hat.
"You didn't think I would just disappear on you without calling to see what was up, did you?"
Mia hugged her tightly and pulled her in.
"How on earth did you manage to find me?"
Ember raised an eyebrow.
"You don't think Lucas left breadcrumbs?"
Mia stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest.
She examined him closely.
"Possibly not. But if he had not done so, you would be in far worse shape now."
Mia dropped her gaze.
"I didn't invite him to guard me."
"No," Ember spoke quietly. "But he never lost the connection. Not even in rejection. And neither did you."
Silence fell between them.
Ember perched on the edge of the couch.
"There's more," he said. "The rogue who attacked you?
He has companions. Lucas tracked his trail after the fight — there's a pack. Rogues along the human border, patrolling near pack wolves."
Mia's heart pounded.
"Why"?
I don't know. One of them had a Blackridge ring on.
Mia gasped. Blackridge. The pack that had always shadowed Silverpine with the patience and stealth of a vulture hovering over a wounded deer.
"They're scheming," said Ember. "And they view you as a weak link."
Mia bristled.
"Because I'm the 'rejected omega
"No," Ember said. "Because you're still tied to the Alpha. And that scares them."
Lucas never returned to the compound.
Instead, he found a small motel on the outskirts of Westridge — with stiff sheets, buzzing fluorescent lights, and enough room to keep him from bursting onto Mia's front door like a fool.
He rested on his back with his chest exposed, the ache from fighting still seeping through his muscles.
He could still smell her.
Her anger and her fear, yes. Her hurt. Her stubborn, lovely strength.
His wolf was restless. Prowling about. Growling
She belongs to us.
But Lucas was no longer so sure.
He had chosen to reject her, in the interest of the pack. He justified that it was noble. Sacrificial. That made him a better Alpha.
But the truth?
He had been scared
Fearful of losing the support of the council. Fearful of declaring war on Blackridge. Fearful of appearing weak.
And now he didn't know if he would ever be forgiven.
He craved her return.
Not only the bond — Her!
This time he would not invite her to come home.
She would need to choose it.
Just the way he had chosen duty over love before.
And he couldn't tell what hurt him more — the hurt that she had endured… or the hurt that now resided in her eyes when they met his.
The next morning, Mia found Ember in the tiny kitchen consuming instant coffee as if it were a feast.
"So what now?" Mia rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
Ember placed the cup on the table. "You have two choices."
Run again?
"No," Ember said. "You may run away. Or… you may fight."
Mia blinked. "Fight what?"
"Your part in this story," Ember said. "You can keep letting others define you. Or you can show them what an omega can be."
Her eyes fell to the scar on her arm — the one she had received during the rogue attack. Her very first real fight. Her very first victory.
She had felt that night.
Not just fear—power.
She had defended herself.
Fought with the Alpha.
Held her ground.
Maybe she wasn't broken after all.
Maybe her strength had just lain dormant the entire time.
And perhaps the time had come for the pack to hear it roar.