“We have money,” Brendan said, “and we can get your passport from your house.”
“I said that aloud?” I asked, aghast.
“You’ve said quite a lot, but this is the first bit that made sense,” Rhys replied. “What did he do, Cyn?”
He turned my face towards him, my eyes taking in everything now. The massive set of his shoulders, all those awful bruises, the broad planes of his cheekbones, the way his hair was all different shades of blond and brown mixed together, starting to curl at the ends now because it was getting so long.
“Fuck…you’re the perfect alpha. Of course it was you. You’re sweet and protective and loyal and—”
“Um…thanks?” Rhys frowned, then regretted moving his bruised flesh. “But what did he do? Focus, Cyn. You were doing so well.”
“Does Marcus know everything about you?” I asked, my voice suddenly steadying.
“What?”
“Does he know where you went to preschool, primary school, high school?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Your major life events. Memories you treasure or hate?”
“Yeah,” Bren answered. “Where’s this going?”
“He knows everything,” I hissed, aware I sounded like a crazy person but unable to stop myself.
“What? That’s—” Bren said, but Rhys shushed him. He looked me over closely, seeming to be able to read my expression, my posture, and understand.
“That’s what Marcus does,” Rhys said. “When he gets someone in his sights, he learns every fucking detail about them—their entire history, their medical background, their family, their lives. It’s what he’s like. It seems to…settle him. He can only relax around a person when they’re a known quantity. But that’s not what has your pulse skittering like a scared rabbit.”
I got up, starting to pace back and forth until they joined me, boxing me in. It made sense, I knew that. A small space would make me feel more secure, but did it have to be this? It felt like a trap had been laid for me, one that contained the most delicious of lures, so when their hands landed on my shoulders, my eyes rolled back slightly, my biology kicking in where my psychological strategies had failed.
“Fuck, omega…” Rhys growled.
“Yeah, nah,” Brendan said, spinning me around and pulling me back, holding me against his body. “There’s no alpha this or omega that, not until there’s trust. I’ve always bought into this fucking bullshit, thinking it’s the way, but talking to Mum made me realise. Her and Dad, they have an amazing relationship. One I could only hope to emulate. They do because there’s love—”
“There was never a lack of love here,” Rhys rumbled.
“And respect. We can incapacitate her, change her mind, beat back her will with our commands and our scents. Bamboozle her with bullshit until she doesn’t know what’s up.” Rhys frowned at that. “Or we can save the primal biology for where it belongs—in a relationship of trust. We’re not there yet. Maybe we never will be.” He dropped his head down, grazing his nose along my neck. “But I’m not jeopardising any chance of it for hormonal crap. I want Cyn to be my omega, to mark her as mine before the fucking world, but I want her to want that too.”
I stroked my hand up and down that broad forearm, my fingers naturally finding the grooves in the muscles before I felt his arm loosen.
“You got this, Cyn. Tell us what happened.”
And just then, Bren used a hint of his alpha command for me, rather than against me, the prompt enough to have it all spilling out. Halting, weird, conspiracy theories of doom.
“So, what are you saying? He’s brought us all together? He’s been tracking you since that day?” Rhys asked.
His rational mind rejected the idea thoroughly, something I could understand, but the alpha? It was shocking, seeing Rhys’ eyes flash hot again, a small smile forming, the predator in him elated at such a long, thorough hunt. I found myself pressing harder against Bren, his hand rubbing my arm.
“That idea excites you,” I said.
“I…”
Behind the mask of bruises, there was Rhys—warm, gentle, sweet, bruised, hurting, angry, sad, but also an alpha. Bren’s idea was incredibly seductive, of giving me some sort of control over the alpha-omega relationship dynamic, but he mistook one thing. They would never be able to contain all their alpha shit to only when I gave permission for them to let it out. It was an integral part of who they were.
“I can’t help that,” Rhys replied, stepping closer, a low growl coming from Bren. “The idea that one of us saw you for what you were—ours? That feels good. That they watched over you, ensured your safety, and when the time was right, let you into our pack? That’s what it felt like, what it’s always felt like to me. That you, me, Bren, the others, that we were written in the stars. That you were always there for us to find and claim.”
I stiffened as he reached out, pushing my hair to one side and then stroking his fingers across the scar he’d left.