Chapter Ten

Jaxon

So … she has a mate.

Maybe it should've been obvious. Faith doesn't behave like other ferals. Her violent outbursts come and go, more like a trauma response than a constant state of being.

Which means hasn't been fighting us for the sake of it. Her inner omega is simply at panic stations, knowing we left her mate behind.

The news should come as a relief, and yet, all three of us seem more on edge than ever.

"Alright," Caleb says sternly as Micah pours the tea. We're gathered around the dining table, all eyes glued to Faith. "Apart from Fang, do you know roughly how many others were taken?"

"We counted twenty-eight rescues," I tell her, "if that helps."

Faith scrawls something in her notepad.

LEAVES 12. INCLUDING FANG.

"Christ," I mutter. "They had forty rogues down there?"

She gives me something bordering on a death glare. I should be terrified, but honestly, seeing her like this—draped in one of Caleb's shirts and not much else—gets my heart racing in an entirely different way.

Caleb asks her a few more questions, and we all carefully read her answers. How many ringleaders did you see in the arena? SIX. Would you be able to describe them to a sketch artist? MAYBE. Did they always keep you in the same arena? YES. There was nowhere else? COURTYARD. ONCE A MONTH.

The ringleaders knew their stuff—keeping forty rogues underground without fresh air and sunlight makes for all sorts of health problems. They needed their prisoners in good fighting shape.

Then Caleb asks, "How long were you down there? Do you know?"

Faith doesn't hesitate. 3 YEARS.

My stomach drops. Three fucking years ? The other omegas we spoke to said they'd been locked up a few months, maybe a year.

Micah swallows. "I'm so sorry," he whispers.

Faith chuffs. She grabs the pen.

FANG'S HAD 4.

I don't give a damn what Fang's had , I almost snap. What matters right now is you.

Like he can sense my inner alpha getting riled up, Caleb raises his hand, silencing me. "I promise you," he rumbles, "we're going to do everything in our power to get Fang out. We just need you to be patient."

A dark look crosses Faith's features. I have to bite back my instincts, which are telling me to take her into my arms and scent her until she calms down.

"I'm glad you told us," Caleb goes on. "And I know it's a lot to ask, but from now on, there's something else I need you to do."

Faith is quiet. Watching.

Caleb smiles. "Trust us."

***

I'm worried I won't be able to get to sleep that night, knowing there's a rogue omega tossing and turning in the room next door.

But the second my head hits the pillow, I'm out like a goddamn light.

Micah's alarm goes off first. He tries to slip out of bed without disturbing us, tiptoeing to the bathroom.

I'm up the second the shower starts running.

My sleepy muscles groan in protest—doubly so when I get on the floor for my morning push-ups—but as soon as my blood starts pumping, I feel a little more ready to face the day.

"Going to check on Faith?"

I turn. Caleb is sitting up in bed, his hair tussled with sleep.

I clear my throat. "That's the idea."

"She might still be sleeping."

"Somehow I doubt that." Faith doesn't seem to be the sleep-in type. I just hope she got some rest in after our midnight chat—I'm not sure how much longer I can look at those dark circles under her eyes before my inner alpha snaps.

She's not your omega, I keep reminding myself. She's just … an omega. In your den.

I'm surprised to see Caleb pluck his work clothes out of the closet—a dark green turtleneck, tailored utility pants. After everything that happened last night, I assumed we'd spend the day with Faith.

When I ask, Caleb responds, "You and Micah can hold the fort. I need to get back to HQ—tell the squad what we know. Plus, Faith's results should also be coming in around lunch, and I wanted to pick them up personally."

"Her results—" I stop. "You had the hospital run a screen?"

"She was already sedated. Seemed like the best time."

He's not wrong, but still, it's not exactly good form to run a battery of medical tests without the patient's consent.

Caleb notes my look. "I thought she was feral at the time."

"Yeah." I shrug. "You made the right call."

He seems unconvinced. Or maybe I'm the one who's still unconvinced.

Before he can say anything else, Micah walks out of the bathroom, ruffling his hair with a towel. "Morning, guys." I guess he doesn't miss the lingering tension, as he tentatively asks, "Someone check on Faith already?"

I get to my feet. "Just about to."

Caleb blocks me on my way to the door. For the first time since I can remember, I have to fight the urge to bare my teeth at him.

"Shower first," Caleb says. "Then, you can see the omega."

Glowering, I cast my gaze to Micah. He nods in confirmation.

"Sorry, Jax," he tells me, "but you … kind of reek of alpha."

Well that tracks . One night with an omega in the den and I'm already letting my instincts take over.

I shoulder past them on my way to the bathroom, not wanting to stick around for the inevitable lecture. This is just a job, Jax. Faith already has a mate, Jax. Don't get too attached, Jax.

I crank the water so it's cold, as cold as it can get, and force myself to stand there.

Somehow, still feeling warm.