44. Dash

44

DASH

The blue light of my computer screen is the only illumination in my cramped office, casting eerie shadows that dance across the walls. I blink hard, trying to focus on the encrypted files before me. The scent of citrus and ocean breeze—my own pheromones—mingles with the acrid stench of stress and exhaustion. A forgotten cup of coffee sits beside me.

The pack house creaks and settles around me, everyone else long asleep, but sleep isn’t an option. Not when I’m this close.

My fingers fly across the keyboard, tapping a frantic rhythm in the silence. Quinn would have figured all of this out faster, but he was so exhausted that I couldn’t possibly expect him to keep looking.

I couldn’t sleep.

The cravings…

Focus, Dash.

Suddenly, the words on the screen snap into focus, and my blood runs cold.

Shipment of twelve omegas arriving at dock twenty-seven. Prepare holding cells.

“Fuck,” I mutter, running a hand through my greasy hair. This is bigger than we thought.

I reach for my phone. Should I wake the others? No, I need to be sure first.

Taking a deep breath of the musty office air, I dial a number I swore I’d never use again—one that got me into a lot of trouble in my foster days before Quinn came back for me. “Hey, Ricky,” I say, injecting a forced lightness into my tone. “It’s your favorite troublemaker. Listen, I need some intel on dock twenty-seven, and it isn’t for a new gig.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and I can almost hear Ricky’s gears turning. He knows I wouldn’t reach out unless it was serious.

“Dash, my man,” he drawls, his voice rough from cigarettes and late nights. “Thought you’d gone straight. What has you sniffing around the docks at this ungodly hour?”

I hesitate, weighing how much to reveal. Ricky’s always been a wild card, but right now, he’s my best shot at getting the information we need.

“Let’s just say I’m looking into some… shipments. The kind that breathes.”

Ricky lets out a low whistle. “Shit, kid. You’re playing with fire.”

As Ricky talks, filling me in on the underground operations at the docks, a familiar itch crawls under my skin. My throat feels like sandpaper, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. God, I could use a drink right now. Just one to take the edge off, to help me focus…

“I know,” I say, my voice tight, “but I need to know what’s going down at dock twenty-seven tonight.”

The craving slams into me like a physical blow, my mouth watering at the mere thought of alcohol. For a heartbeat, I’m back in that dark place, drowning my sorrows and guilt in the bottom of a bottle, but then I think of my pack, of Aria, and all the omegas counting on us. I can’t let them down. I won’t.

There’s a rustling sound on the other end followed by the click of a lighter. I picture Ricky hunched over his computer, smoke curling around his fingers as he types.

“Alright, give me a minute,” he mutters.

My leg bounces nervously as I wait, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The cravings intensify, a gnawing ache in my gut that I push aside. Not now. I can’t afford to lose focus.

I shake my head violently, sending a whiff of my own anxious scent to my nostrils.

“Got something,” Ricky says after what feels like an eternity. “Cargo ship coming in at three tomorrow morning. Officially, it’s listed as agricultural supplies, but my sources say it’s way too hush-hush for that. Armed guards, restricted access… Definitely not your standard produce delivery.”

My heart races. This is it. “Thanks, Ricky. I owe you one.”

“You owe me several, kid. And Dash? Be careful. Whatever this is, it’s big. Dangerous.”

I end the call, my mind whirling. Three in the morning tomorrow. That’s less than twenty hours away. I need to move fast.

Hours blur together in a haze of phone calls and data analysis. With each piece of evidence I uncover, the full scope of Noah’s operation becomes clearer and more terrifying. This isn’t just some small-time trafficking ring. It’s a vast network with tendrils reaching into law enforcement, politics, and even international crime syndicates.

As the first rays of dawn peek through the blinds, painting my cluttered desk in streaks of pale gold, I finally uncover the smoking gun—financial records linking Noah directly to the trafficking operation. My hand shakes as I reach for my phone, the case slick with sweat.

“Dash?” Malachi is alert despite the early hour, his rich timbre grounding me. “What’s wrong?”

“Mal, I’ve uncovered a nightmare. Get everyone here, now.”

Within minutes, the pack crowds into my office. The air thickens with tension and mingled scents. Body heat raises the temperature, making the small space feel even more claustrophobic.

I inhale deeply, letting the cocktail of pack scents center me. “Noah’s operation,” I begin, my voice steadier than I feel, “isn’t just local. It’s international. He’s been trafficking omegas on a massive scale, using political connections to avoid detection.”

I pull up the evidence and walk them through my discoveries, noticing how the pack instinctively draws closer. Zane’s hand finds its way to Aria’s lower back, a gesture of both comfort and protection. His jaw clenches, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

Quinn’s fingers twitch, and I can practically see the gears turning in his brain. “The encryption on these files,” he mutters, leaning in closer. “It’s military grade. How did you… Actually, never mind. I don’t want to know, but I’m impressed.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, I can’t help but feel a small surge of pride at Quinn’s words.

“You’ve done well, Dash,” Malachi says, his voice steady but tinged with concern. “But we’re venturing into treacherous waters. The risks here are immense.”

Aria’s eyes meet mine, a mix of horror and fierce determination on her face that makes my chest tighten. We’ve come so far from the broken individuals we once were.

“This ends tonight,” Aria says, her voice low but steely. “No more omegas will suffer while we sit on our hands.”

Her words hit me like a sucker punch, forcing the air from my lungs. How many times had I turned a blind eye to omegas suffering? How many times had I been complicit through my silence and inaction?

“We’re going to stop him,” I say, surprised by the fierce conviction in my voice. “We’re going to bring this whole operation down.”

Malachi’s eyes meet mine, his gaze heavy with unspoken questions. “You uncovered crucial information, Dash,” he says, measuring each word. “But this isn’t just about the data. I need to know, with absolute certainty, that you can navigate this without losing yourself. We can’t afford any… setbacks.”

I know what he’s really asking. Can I handle this without falling off the wagon? Can I face the darkness without drowning in it?

My hand slips into my pocket, my fingers closing around my sobriety chip. The metal is warm, its raised edges familiar against my fingertips. Six months clean. One hundred and eighty-two days of fighting, of choosing to be better.

“Bring on the storm,” I say, gripping the chip like a lifeline. “I’ve weathered worse.”

I feel the weight of everyone’s gaze. Zane’s eyes narrow, concern flickering in their depths. Quinn gives me a small nod, his faith in my abilities clear. Aria steps closer, her scent wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.

“You’ve earned this, Dash,” she says softly. “We believe in you.”

Malachi nods, his scent softening with pride and support. “This pack stands united, Dash. Your battle is ours.”

The weight of their trust settles on my shoulders, both a burden and a source of strength. I take a deep breath, steadying myself.

“Okay,” I say, turning back to the computer. “Here’s what we know. The next shipment is coming in tonight at three, dock twenty-seven. We need to be there to intercept it, but we also need concrete evidence to take Noah down for good.”

Quinn leans in, scanning the data on the screen. “If we can access their systems during the transfer, I might be able to pull more financial records, communications, and maybe even client lists.”

Zane nods, his muscles coiled with tension. “I’ll handle security. We’ll need a distraction to get close enough without raising alarms.”

“I can help with that,” Aria says, her voice steady despite the fear I can smell on her. “My scent might be enough to throw them off guard, at least for a moment.”

My chest tightens at the thought of putting her in danger, but I know better than to argue. Aria’s stronger than any of us give her credit for.

Malachi’s deep voice cuts through the planning. “We need to consider the omegas on that ship. Their safety has to be our top priority.”

He’s right, of course. The magnitude of what we’re about to do hits me all at once. We aren’t just taking down a criminal enterprise. We’re saving lives. The responsibility is enormous, and for a moment, the weight of it threatens to crush me. The familiar urge to numb myself, to escape, whispers seductively in the back of my mind.

I grip my sobriety chip tighter, focusing on its solid presence. No. I can do this. We can do this.

“Agreed,” I say, forcing my voice to remain steady. “We’ll need a safe house, somewhere to take the omegas once we’ve freed them. Medical supplies, food, blankets—anything they might need.”

Quinn nods, already tapping away at his tablet. “Name it, and it’s done. I have resources you wouldn’t believe.”

“Good,” Malachi says. “Zane, I want you to reach out to your contacts in law enforcement. We need allies we can trust when this all goes down.”

Zane grunts in acknowledgment, his scent sharpening with determination.

“What about me?” I ask, trying to ignore the tremor in my hands. “What’s my role in all this?”

Malachi’s eyes meet mine, his gaze intense. “You’re our ace in the hole, Dash. You uncovered this information, you have the contacts. I need you coordinating everything from here. You’ll be our eyes and ears, making sure all the pieces fall into place.”

Part of me wants to argue, to insist on being there in person, but I know he’s right. This is where I can do the most good, and if I’m being honest with myself, it’s the safest place for me to be—away from the chaos, violence, and the temptation.

I nod, swallowing hard. “Understood.”

A moment of silence falls over the room, heavy with the weight of what we’re about to undertake. Then, unexpectedly, Quinn breaks it with a soft chuckle.

“You know,” he says, a hint of his usual mischief in his eyes, “if someone told me a year ago that we’d be planning to take down an international trafficking ring, I’d have thought they were crazy, but here we are, saving the world one omega at a time.”

His words break the tension, and I feel a ripple of amusement flow through the pack. Even Zane’s lips twitch in a ghost of a smile.

“We’ve come a long way,” Aria agrees, her voice warm with affection. She reaches out, intertwining her fingers with mine. “All of us.”

For a moment, we aren’t just a pack planning a dangerous mission. We’re a family bound by something deeper than blood or duty. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, filling me with a fierce, protective love that’s stronger than any craving.

The moment is fleeting though. Aria’s expression shifts, her scent souring with anxiety. “I think…” Her voice sounds so small as she speaks. “I think I need to tell you guys just how awful Noah is.”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, a sudden heaviness settling over us. Aria’s words hang in the air, laden with unspoken pain. I feel my muscles tense, bracing for what’s to come.

Zane moves closer to Aria, his protective instincts kicking in. “You don’t have to do this,” he says softly, but she shakes her head.

“No, I do,” Aria insists, her voice stronger now. “You need to understand what we’re up against. What he’s capable of.”

Zane leans forward. “Spill it, Aria. No holding back now.”

As Aria begins to speak, I realize that this mission isn’t just about taking down a criminal empire, it’s about facing our demons, and as I look around at my pack, I know that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.

The path ahead is treacherous, but our pack is unbreakable. We aren’t just fighting against something. We’re fighting for something—justice, freedom, and a world where omegas don’t have to live in fear.

That, I realize, is worth every struggle, temptation, and sleepless night. It’s worth fighting for. It’s worth staying sober for.

As Aria’s story unfolds, I steel myself for what’s to come. Whatever horrors she’s about to reveal, whatever challenges lie ahead, I know one thing for certain. Come hell or high water, this pack won’t break rank.