16. Malachi

16

MALACHI

My leather chair creaks as I lean back, a sound that cuts through the heavy silence in my office. Outside, the sky bleeds from orange to purple, and shadows creep across the tense faces of my pack. The scent of their anxiety mingles with the bitter dregs of my cold coffee, creating a mix of unease that settles deep in my chest.

“Alright,” I start, keeping my voice low and steady to ground myself—and them. “We need to finalize our approach with Aria. Quinn, you said you ran into her?”

Quinn nods, his fingers toying with the frayed hem of his vintage Nintendo T-shirt, a nervous habit I’ve seen a hundred times. His usual electric energy is dampened, like a dimmed lightbulb. “Yeah, I told her about the salon idea. She didn’t shut it down, but…” He runs a hand through his perpetually messy hair, his eyes darting around the room. “She wants to meet tomorrow. Could be good, could be… a debugging session for our relationship.” He attempts a lopsided grin, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Dash shifts on the leather sofa, the material squeaking under his weight. The guilt radiating off him is sharp, almost stinging. “I saw her too… at my AA meeting.” His fingers drum restlessly on his thigh, like he’s trying to tap out a rhythm that might keep him steady. “She seemed surprised, but not pissed. Maybe even a little impressed? It’s like we’re both trying to reboot our systems.” His hope is delicate, hanging by a thread.

Before I can respond, a sharp knock interrupts us. The door swings open, revealing someone I didn’t expect to see tonight.

Logan .

His scent hits the room like a cold front—sharp and predatory. My entire body tenses as his alpha confidence rolls off him in waves, undercut with something darker. Every instinct tells me he’s here for his own reasons, not ours.

Logan saunters in, all lean muscle and calculated grace. His steel gray eyes scan the room like a predator assessing its prey. The scar along his jawline, usually hidden, catches the fading light.

“Sorry to intrude,” he says, his voice smooth as polished steel. “But I have some information about Aria that you might find… interesting.”

Quinn and Dash exchange wary glances, their scents spiking with alarm. I force my voice to stay calm, even as my jaw tightens. “Logan, this is a private pack meeting.”

Logan raises his hands, feigning innocence with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know, I know, but you’ll want to hear this.”

Against my better judgment, I nod. His presence feels like a splinter under my skin—irritating and potentially dangerous.

Logan leans against the doorframe, all calculated casualness. “I’ve been keeping tabs on Aria,” he begins, each word deliberately chosen. “She’s been spending a lot of time alone. She seems like she’s on edge—jumping at shadows, avoiding crowds… vulnerable.”

Quinn’s brow furrows, his mind likely running through a dozen scenarios. “And how exactly do you know all this, Logan?” His fingers twitch as if itching to get back to a keyboard and pull up data that would make sense of all this. “Have a crystal ball app we missed?”

Logan shrugs, unbothered by Quinn’s suspicion. “It isn’t hard to keep an eye on someone if you know where to look. She’s been at the Omega Guardians building a lot, almost like she’s hiding from something… or someone.”

Dash sits up straighter, tension tightening his posture. “What’s your point, Logan?” His voice is edged with a low growl. “Why are you telling us this?”

Logan’s grin is all sharp edges, and predatory satisfaction rolls off him in waves. “Just thought you’d want to know. If you’re serious about bringing her back, now’s the time. She could use some alpha protection.”

The implication burns through me. My inner alpha bristles at the insinuation that we would force Aria into anything.

Quinn’s eyes narrow, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something harder. “We aren’t going to strong-arm her, Logan. That isn’t how we do things anymore.”

Logan raises an eyebrow, his smirk never wavering. “Suit yourselves, but if you want my advice, maybe it’s time for decisive action. She’s drifting, and it won’t be long before someone else steps in.”

Dash glares, his laid-back facade cracking. “We aren’t playing that game, Logan.” He leans back, feigning calm, but his eyes are sharp. “We’re trying to do this right—something you clearly wouldn’t understand.”

Logan’s smirk tightens, all teeth and no warmth. “Right,” he says, pushing off the doorframe. “Just thought I’d give you a heads-up. Your window of opportunity might be closing faster than you think. Tick-tock.”

A chill races down my spine. Logan’s words feel too pointed, and the gleam in his eye when he mentioned Aria’s vulnerability was too sinister. The realization hits—he isn’t here to help. He’s here to push us, to manipulate the situation to his advantage.

I rise from my chair, moving slowly and deliberately. The air thickens with the tension of my pack’s eyes on me, waiting to see how I’ll handle this.

“Thank you for the information, Logan,” I say, my voice calm but firm, “but I think we have it from here.”

Logan’s gaze lingers on mine, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s weighing the challenge in my words. For a moment, it looks like he might push back, but then he shrugs, his smirk still in place.

“Just trying to help,” he says, backing out of the doorway. “Good luck with your… gentle approach.”

The door closes behind him, but the unease sticks like residue. I turn back to my pack, their expressions mirroring my own worry and distrust. The air still crackles with Logan’s presence, his words like a toxin we can’t quite purge.

“Malachi,” Quinn starts, his voice urgent and low, “we can’t trust him. The way he talked about Aria…”

I hold up a hand, stopping him. The weight of leadership settles heavily on my shoulders. “I know, but we need to be smart about this. Logan has his own agenda, and we can’t let him steer us into a decision that isn’t ours.”

Dash scrubs a hand through his hair, his frustration plain. “So what do we do? We can’t just ignore what he said.”

I take a deep breath, letting the mingled scents of my pack steady me. “We stick to our plan, but we stay alert. Quinn, keep pushing forward with the salon. Your tech skills could be invaluable in setting up a secure environment for Aria and other omegas. Dash, keep your focus on your recovery. Your journey could inspire Aria and show her we’re all capable of change. We need to show Aria through our actions that we aren’t the same alphas who hurt her. We’re rebuilding this pack, starting with ourselves.”

The truth settles between us. We failed Aria once, but we won’t make the same mistakes again.

“And Logan?” Quinn asks, concern clear in his voice.

“I’ll handle Logan,” I say, resolve hardening my tone. “But our priority is Aria. She needs to know Logan’s sniffing around.”

As the meeting wraps up, my pack files out, their scents a complex blend of determination and unease. Alone in my office, I pull out my phone and send a quick message to Willow at Omega Guardians.

Aria’s safety is our top priority.

Even if we failed her in the past, we won’t fail her in the future.

Me : Urgent matter regarding Aria’s safety. Need to meet ASAP.

I hit send then lean back, staring out at the darkening sky. The path ahead is riddled with challenges, more than we ever anticipated, but we’ll face it together for Aria, the future we want to build, and the pack we’re striving to become.

I grip my phone, Logan’s parting words still echoing in my mind. A thought creeps in, unbidden. What if he’s right? What if our window of opportunity is closing faster than we think?

As the night deepens, so does my resolve. We’ll fight for Aria, not because of the bond, but because she deserves better than the hand she’s been dealt. We owe her that much.

We’ll be damned if we’ll let Logan—or anyone else—take that chance from us.