46. Quinn

46

QUINN

I stand in the corner of our pack’s living room, my fingers anxiously combing through my hair. The scents of lavender and bergamot—my own distressed pheromones—mingle with the angry scents filling the air. The room feels stifling, the tension palpable as raised voices bounce off the walls. What was supposed to be a strategy meeting to plan our next move against Noah has turned into a shouting match, and I feel powerless to stop it.

The air feels thick, almost suffocating, as if the collective anger and frustration have become a tangible presence. The sharp scents of agitated alphas mingle with the sour note of Aria’s distress, creating an olfactory cocktail that makes my head spin. The bitter taste of adrenaline coats my tongue, and I swallow hard, trying to steady myself.

The soft leather of the couch creaks as Zane leans forward, his eyes dark with fury. “Every second we waste talking,” he snarls, “is another omega trapped in Noah’s web. We need to act now, before it’s too late for all of us. Or have we already failed them?” His fists clench and unclench, the muscles in his forearms rippling with barely contained rage.

Malachi shakes his head, his usually calm demeanor strained. I can see the muscles in his jaw working as he grits his teeth. “I understand the urgency, Zane,” he says, his voice steady despite the tension. “But we have a responsibility not just to ourselves, but to every omega out there. We owe them a plan that won’t crumble at the first obstacle.” He stands, his presence commanding attention. “If we rush in half-cocked, we risk more than just our lives. We risk the future of every omega we’re trying to save.”

The bitter scent of coffee lingers in the air from our abandoned mugs, now cold and forgotten on the coffee table. Dash runs a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “Hey, crazy thought,” he chimes in with a forced grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “but what if we actually played by the rules for once? You know, call the cops and let them handle the bad guys? No? Just me?” He pauses, then adds, “Alright, back to vigilante justice it is. Who’s up for making some superhero costumes? I call dibs on being the comedic relief sidekick.”

“No way in hell,” Aria cuts in, her eyes flashing with a fierce determination that belies the tremor in her voice. The sweet scent of her distress fills my nostrils. “Noah has his claws sunk too deep into the system. If we trust outsiders, we might as well gift wrap ourselves for him.” She stands, her small frame vibrating with intensity. “This is our fight, and we’ll do it our way. I’m done being a victim, and I’m sure as hell not going to sit back and watch while more omegas suffer what I did.”

The argument spirals, each of us voicing concerns, fears, and frustrations. I find myself shrinking back, the intensity of emotions pressing down like a physical weight. It’s overwhelming, like being trapped in a room with clashing alpha energies and no escape. The air feels thick, almost suffocating, as the scents of anger, fear, and frustration swirl around me.

“Guys,” I interject, but my voice is lost in the chaos. Each of them are so consumed by their own fears that they can’t see how it’s tearing us apart. It’s like dealing with difficult customers at the salon—everyone shouting over each other, convinced their way is the only way.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the mixture of scents, and center myself. This time, I infuse my voice with the calm command I rarely use. “Guys!”

The room falls silent, all eyes turning to me in surprise. My heart races under their scrutiny, but I swallow the panic and push through. “Guys, guys, we’re spinning our wheels faster than my old Commodore 64 trying to load Zork,” I interject, trying to lighten the mood. “How about we play a little game of fears-and-feelings? You know, like show-and-tell, but with more existential dread?”

Malachi nods, a hint of approval in his eyes. “Quinn’s right. This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

I seize the moment, drawing on every conflict resolution skill I’ve learned. “Instead of arguing about what we should do, let’s each take a turn expressing our biggest fear about the situation. No judgments, no interruptions. Just listening. Maybe if we understand where we’re all coming from, we can find some middle ground.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, but Aria is the first to speak. “I’m afraid of Noah finding me again and being trapped in that life.” Her voice wavers, but she doesn’t break. I watch the way her words sink into the others, and the anger in the room starts to shift into something more vulnerable. “But more than that, I’m scared of what he’s doing to other omegas right now. Every time I close my eyes, I see their faces.”

One by one, everyone shares their fears. The room feels heavier with each admission, the air thick with tension and vulnerability.

Zane is the first to speak, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve already failed one omega,” he says, his fists clenching at his sides. “I can’t bear the thought of failing another.” He looks at me, his eyes intense and filled with a mix of determination and fear. “Aria, I swear to you, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe—to keep all omegas safe. I won’t let history repeat itself.”

Malachi nods, his usual composure cracking as he speaks. “This pack is everything to me,” he confesses, his voice low and strained. “If we lose each other in this fight, Noah wins no matter what.” He looks around at all of us, his gaze lingering on each face. “We need to stay united, no matter what happens. We’re stronger together.”

Dash shifts uncomfortably, his usual joviality replaced by a raw honesty that makes my heart ache. “I… I’m scared of relapsing,” he admits, his hand unconsciously moving to the pocket where he keeps his sobriety chip. “The stress, the danger… It’s all so much, and I know if I slip, I won’t just be letting myself down, but all of you as well.”

I reach out, placing a hand on Dash’s shoulder. “We’ve got your back, man,” I say firmly. “You aren’t alone in this.”

“Quinn’s right,” Aria adds, her voice soft but steady. “We’re a pack. We support each other, no matter what.”

Malachi nods in agreement. “Dash, your sobriety is important to all of us. We’ll do whatever it takes to help you stay on track.”

Zane grunts, which is his way of showing support. “If you need someone to talk to, or just to sit with… I’m here. We all are.”

Dash looks around at all of us, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Thanks, guys,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I… That means more than you know.”

As we listen, the room feels different. The tension has lessened, replaced by a shared understanding. We aren’t just a group of alphas and one omega. We’re a family that’s been scared to show our cracks. The air feels lighter, as if by voicing our fears, we’ve released some of the pressure that’s been building.

“Thank you all for sharing,” I say, surprised by the steadiness in my voice. “Now that we understand each other’s concerns better, maybe we can work together to address them. I have some ideas for a compromise, if you’re willing to hear them.”

I take a deep breath, looking at each of my packmates in turn. “Alright, let’s approach this systematically,” I begin, my mind already racing with possibilities. “We each have unique strengths, and we need to use them all if we’re going to take down Noah’s operation.”

Malachi leans forward, his eyes intense. “What do you have in mind, Quinn?”

“Well,” I say, my fingers twitching with the urge to start typing, “we need to think of this like a complex algorithm. Each of us is a vital component.”

Zane grunts, his brow furrowed. “Cut the tech talk, Quinn. What are you suggesting?”

I can’t help but smile a little. “Sorry, force of habit. Look, it’s like running the salon. We need precision and patience, not just raw power.”

“How does that translate to taking down Noah?” Dash asks, his usual playfulness tempered by seriousness.

I nod, grateful for the question. “Malachi, you’re our leader. Your strength is in strategy and keeping us united. We need you to be our command center, coordinating our efforts.”

Malachi nods slowly, his posture straightening. “I can do that.”

“Zane,” I continue, “your contacts in law enforcement are crucial. We need to know who we can trust and who’s in Noah’s pocket. Can you handle that?”

Zane’s eyes flash with determination. “Consider it done.”

I turn to Dash. “Your charm and social skills are going to be key. We need you to be our eyes and ears on the street. Talk to people, and gather information, but,” I add, softening my voice, “we’ll make sure you aren’t put in situations that might jeopardize your sobriety.”

Dash swallows hard, nodding. “Thanks, Quinn. I won’t let you down.”

“And Aria,” I say, meeting her eyes, “your insight into Noah’s operation is invaluable. You know how he thinks and operates. We need you to help us anticipate his moves.”

Aria nods, a mix of fear and determination in her eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“As for me,” I finish, “I’ll be diving into the digital side of things—financials, communications, anything that leaves a digital footprint. We’re going to unravel this whole operation piece by piece.”

Malachi nods, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “This… This could work, but it’s going to be dangerous. We all need to be prepared for that.”

“We will be,” Zane growls, his protective instincts flaring. “We’ll prepare for every scenario.”

“And we’ll have each other’s backs,” Dash adds, his voice firm. “No matter what.”

I look around at my pack, feeling a surge of pride and determination. “Together, we’re stronger than Noah could ever imagine. He won’t know what hit him.”

As we continue to discuss and refine our plan, I feel the energy in the room shifting. The fear and uncertainty are still there, but they are being overshadowed by something else—hope and determination. We aren’t just a pack anymore. We’re a team united in our goal to bring Noah down and protect our own.

It won’t be easy, and it won’t be quick, but looking at the determination on my packmates’ faces, I know one thing for certain—Noah doesn’t stand a chance.

The pack listens, really listens. Is this what it feels like to be heard? To make a difference? The knot in my chest starts to ease, replaced by a warmth that spreads through me. For the first time since we started this, it feels like we’re moving in the same direction. It isn’t perfect, but it’s progress.

As the meeting winds down, I feel a mix of exhaustion and pride. Malachi approaches me, placing a hand on my shoulder. The warmth of his touch seeps through my shirt, comforting and grounding. “Well done, Quinn,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “You showed real leadership today.”

His words warm me, but they also cause a flicker of doubt. I exhale slowly, feeling the weight of the pack’s trust settle on my shoulders. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once. Have I just stepped up as a leader, or set myself up as the fall guy if this all goes wrong? And how will this new role affect my relationships with the other alphas? Will they resent me for stepping up, or expect more from me now?

Looking at my pack, I know I’d rather fail trying than never try at all.

Later, alone in my room, I surround myself with notes, working on refining our plan. The soft glow of my desk lamp casts long shadows across the room, and the gentle hum of my computer provides a soothing white noise. My mind races with possibilities and potential pitfalls. Just as I’m about to call it a night, my phone buzzes with a text.

Aria : Can we talk privately? It’s important.

I stare at the message, a flutter of anxiety in my chest. What could she want to discuss alone? My heart races as I type my reply, agreeing to meet her. What if she’s having second thoughts about the pack? About me? No, we’re in this fight together, no holds barred. I just hope I’m strong enough to be what she needs right now.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the calming scent of lavender from my workspace. Time to level up and show Noah what happens when he messes with our pack.

With renewed resolve, I head out to meet Aria, ready to face whatever challenge awaits us next.

As I step into the hallway, the cool air from the air-conditioning raises goosebumps on my arms. The house is quiet, the soft padding of my bare feet on the hardwood floor the only sound. I make my way to Aria’s room, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure she’ll hear it before I even knock.

I raise my hand to knock, but before I can, the door opens. Aria stands there, her hair slightly mussed, wearing an oversized T-shirt that I recognize as one of mine. The sight of her in my clothes sends a jolt through me, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

“Hey,” she murmurs. “Come in.”

I step into her room, immediately enveloped by her sweet scent. It’s stronger here in her personal space, and it makes my head spin a little. The room is dimly lit by a small bedside lamp, casting everything in a warm, golden glow.

“What did you want to talk about?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Aria takes a deep breath, and I see her hands tremble slightly. “Quinn, I… I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about the pack, and I realized something.”

My heart races, fear and hope warring in my chest. “What is it?”

She steps closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from her body. “I realized that out of everyone, you’re the one who’s always been there for me, understood me, and I… I want to explore that. If you do too.”

For a moment, I’m stunned into silence, then I reach out and take her hand in mine. Her skin is soft and warm against my calloused fingers. “Aria, are you sure? I mean, I want to, God, I want to, but I need to know you’re sure.”

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’m sure, Quinn. I trust you.”

Those words, more than anything else, break down the last of my reservations. I lean in, my free hand coming up to cup her cheek. Our lips meet, and it’s like everything else fades away. All I can focus on is the softness of her lips, her sweet taste, and the way her body molds against mine as if we were made to fit together.

As our lips meet, everything else fades away. A part of me wonders how this will change things with the pack, but right now, in this moment, nothing else matters but us.

We move toward the bed, our hands exploring each other’s bodies. The world narrows down to just us and the sound of our mingled breaths.

As things heat up, I pull back for a moment, searching Aria’s eyes. “We can stop anytime you want,” I say, needing her to know she’s in control.

She smiles, pulling me back down to her. “I don’t want to stop,” she whispers against my lips.

We don’t. We lose ourselves in each other, in the pleasure and the connection. It’s more than just physical—it’s a joining of souls, a reaffirmation of our bond as packmates and as something more.

Afterwards, we lie tangled together, our skin cooling in the night air. Aria’s head rests on my chest, and I can feel the steady rhythm of her breathing. I press a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair.

“That was…” I trail off, unable to find words adequate enough to describe what just happened.

Aria laughs softly, the sound vibrating against my chest. “Yeah, it was.”

In the quiet of the night, as Aria’s breathing evens out into sleep, I find myself wide awake, my mind racing. The events of the day replay in my head—the pack meeting, the argument, my unexpected role as mediator, and now this incredible moment with Aria. It’s almost too much to process.

I think about how far we’ve come as a pack and how much we’ve grown individually and together. The challenges we’ve faced have forged us into something stronger, something unbreakable, and yet, nagging doubt creeps in. Have Aria and I inadvertently created a new weakness for Noah to exploit?

I push the thought away, focusing instead on the warmth of Aria’s body against mine and the soft sound of her breathing. Our bond isn’t just our strength—it’s Noah’s worst nightmare.

As sleep finally begins to claim me, I hold Aria a little tighter. Tomorrow will bring new challenges and fears, but for now, everything is perfect, and that’s enough.