15. ZANA

Chapter fifteen

ZANA

The tires crunch over the gravel driveway, the tension radiating off Ethan like a storm about to break. I swear the air feels heavier here, like the memories it holds are too dark to let the sunlight in.

Ethan sits in the passenger seat, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. His jaw is pulled tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his scent—usually sweet and soft like summer—is sharp, almost bitter, again . He hates this place. I can feel it in every fiber of his being, and honestly? I don’t blame him.

Three months. That’s how long it’s been since he packed up and left this hellhole. Since he moved into my life and my arms and left his father, Ezra, behind. But three months isn’t long enough to erase what this place did to him. It isn’t enough to bury the horrid words his fucking pastor of a father shouted at me as I protected my mate. It’s not enough time to heal wounds that don’t show.

I park the car and turn to Ethan, resting my hand gently on his knee. “Ethan, baby, you don’t have to do this,” I tell him, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “I can go in, grab your stuff, and we’ll be out of here before you know it.” This was supposed to give him some reprieve, seeing his sister again, but I can see that it’s doing the exact opposite.

He shakes his head, his gaze fixed on the house. “I have to see Camila,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I can’t just leave her here. Not with him.”

I want to tell him it’s not his responsibility. Camila’s an adult and she has her own choices to make. When she takes my offer for help, I will be right there. Until then, there’s nothing I can do. But I know better. Ethan’s heart doesn’t work that way. He doesn’t know how to walk away, even when it’s the best thing for him. Especially then.

“Okay.” I lean over to press a kiss to his temple. His skin is warm against my lips, but he’s shivering like it’s the dead of winter. “But if it gets too much, you let me know, and we’re out. No questions asked. Deal?”

He nods, but he doesn’t look at me. His shoulders sag just a little and I squeeze his knee gently before stepping out of the car. I round the hood to meet him, my senses on high alert. I don’t trust anything about this place—especially not the Alpha waiting inside.

Ethan hesitates for a second before following me up the porch. His steps are slow, like he’s forcing himself forward even though every instinct is screaming at him to run. I wish I could scoop him up, carry him away from this nightmare, and never let him set foot here again. But I can’t. Not yet.

The door opens before we can knock and Camila steps into view. She and Ethan could almost be twins, Camila easily mistaken for an Omega if it wasn't for the lack of a sweet scent. But she looks... tired. Her scent, usually subtle but warm, feels muted, dulled by whatever hell her father has been putting her through. All of those religious teachings mean bullshit when the pastor is mistreating his own children. She gives me a small nod before tugging Ethan into a big hug, both of them relaxing in each other’s hold.

“Hey,” she mumbles as she releases Ethan, stepping aside to let us in. “There’s only two boxes over there,” Camila says, pointing to a neat stack just behind her. “There wasn’t much left.”

Ethan nods, but his eyes aren’t on the boxes. They’re on her. “Are you okay?”

Camila’s smile falters as she shrugs. “I’m fine.”

She’s not fine. None of this is fine.

The fact that Ethan isn't devolving into rambling about his life and everything he's done over the past week tells me just how 'not fine' this situation is. They meet every now and then at the house or at the local cafe, Ethan talking his sister's head off with finesse. In this moment, his silence speaks volumes.

And then, just as I’m about to say something, I hear it. Heavy footsteps echoing down the hall, each one louder than the last. Ezra storms into the room like he owns the place—which, technically, he does, but it’s the way he carries himself, the smug Alpha arrogance, that makes me grit my teeth. His scent is sharp and oppressive, filling the room like a choking fog.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” he sneers, his eyes locking on Ethan. His lip curls and his voice drips with disdain. I would have never pegged him as a preacher or any man of the cloth—whatever that saying is. Whenever I’ve ever come into contact with him, he’s always been so… angry. “The prodigal Omega, back to grace us with his presence. What, Ethan? Not enough attention from your Alpha? Thought you’d come crawling back for a dose of reality?”

Ethan flinches, his hands gripping the hem of his sweater so tightly his knuckles turn white, his eyes already starting to glisten with tears. My chest burns with a rage so hot it takes everything I have not to lunge at Ezra right then and there.

I step forward instead, placing myself between Ethan and Ezra, my voice an octave lower and with an edge of my Alpha growl. “You call that parenting?” I snap, my tone cutting through the tension like a knife. “If being an asshole was a profession, Ezra, you’d have more accolades than you know what to do with.” Being Ethan’s legal Alpha, my bite on his neck, I have every right to defend him against his own father.

Ezra’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening at my disrespect but he doesn’t deserve anything else. “This is none of your business, Alpha,” he growls, the word dripping with mockery. “My family. My house. Stay out of it.”

I cross my arms, tilting my head just enough to remind him exactly who he’s talking to. “Your house, sure,” I say, my tone laced with contempt. “But let’s not pretend you’ve ever been anything close to a father. You think hurling insults and tearing people down makes you strong? It makes you pathetic.”

Ezra’s face darkens, his fists clenching at his sides. “You’d do well to remember where you are.”

“And you’d do well to remember that if the laws were different, you wouldn’t be standing there right now,” I fire back. “You like to act like your words are harmless, but we both know what you’ve done. If I could, I’d make sure you felt every ounce of the damage you’ve caused to my mate.”

Camila lets out this humorless snort, and for half a second, I think she might actually say something. But then Ezra’s glare lands on her and she shuts down so fast it’s like someone flipped a switch. She looks away, her arms crossed tight over her chest, but there’s a defiance there that was never in Ethan’s expression.

She’s fighting in her own way.

I take a step toward her, completely ignoring Ezra and his puffed-up Alpha bullshit. “You’ve got people who care about you,” I muse, pulling her into a hug before she can argue. She stiffens at first—so much like Ethan—but then she sags against me, her shoulders trembling. “You’re worth so much more than this.”

Camila pulls back quickly, that defiance in her eyes a little bolder as she mumbles, “Thanks,” so quietly I almost miss it.

Behind me, Ezra hisses at the three of us. His face is red, his fists clenched, and he’s clearly gearing up for another round of whatever toxic garbage he is about to spew. But he doesn’t get the chance.

I grab the boxes by the door, making a point to slam them together a little harder than necessary as I stack them, the sound cutting through the tension. “We’re done here,” I state as I turn to Ethan. “Let’s go.”

Ethan doesn’t move right away. He’s just standing there, staring at his father, his big brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. My heart aches for him and I want to drag him out of this house, wrap him in a blanket, and never let him step foot here again. But I wait, giving him a moment. He needs this closure, even if it’s messy.

“Goodbye, Dad,” he whispers finally, his voice trembling and so heartbreakingly soft it makes my chest ache.

Ezra doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even look at him. It’s like Ethan doesn’t exist, and the rage I feel bubbling in my chest is barely containable. He doesn’t deserve a second of Ethan’s attention, but Ethan—sweet, big-hearted Ethan—still gives it to him.

I nudge Ethan gently toward the door, balancing the boxes in my arms. “Come on, baby,” I murmur, my tone softer now. “Let’s go.”

Ethan follows me out, distress radiating off him, even as I load the boxes into the car. By the time I slide into the driver’s seat and pull us out of the driveway, he’s hunched over in his seat, his hands clenched in his lap, his whole body coiled like a spring.

“I’ve got you, baby,” I purr, my thumb brushing small circles against the fabric of his jeans. “You don’t have to go back there. Not ever.”

He nods, but his eyes stay fixed on the road ahead, unfocused and distant. A tear slips down his cheek, and he swipes at it quickly, like he’s ashamed to cry. “I’m cutting him off. I thought I could make him see but it’s been three months. He’s never reached out. He hates you for taking me away from him because you aren’t the Alpha he chose. I can’t do this anymore, waiting for him to show up, to talk, to want to be part of my life just to turn around and spew all that garbage. I’m done.” Ethan scrambles for his phone and hurriedly swipes through a few screens before leaning back in his chair.

I don’t have to ask to know that he just blocked Ezra’s number. It takes me a few moments to realize why this visit has hurt more than the rest. The stress of everything happening right now is pushing him toward his heat, heightening his emotions and his reactions. “How are you feeling, baby?” I thread my fingers into his curls, massaging his head as a source of comfort.

His cheeks flush, just the faintest hint of pink, but he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. I know the signs by now—the way his scent shifts, the way his emotions feel just a little closer to the surface. And with everything going on—with Reid—he’s barely holding it together.

And then his composure cracks. Another tear slides down his cheek and this time he doesn’t bother to wipe it away. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Zana,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “It hurts.”

I don’t even try to hide the anger that flares in my chest—not at Ethan, but at everything that’s hurting him. At Ezra. At the Wilhelms. At this whole broken system that’s put him in this position. I pull into our driveway, cutting the engine, and turn to face him fully.

“Listen to me.” I reach for his hand, holding it tightly between both of mine. “We’re going to get our Beta. I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care how long it takes. We’ll bring Reid home. You hear me? You’re not doing this alone.”

His lip trembles, and for a second, I think he’s going to break down completely. But instead, he nods, leaning into my touch like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. “You said our. Alpha, he’s yours too, isn’t he? Fuck, I knew it. Promise me you’ll bring him home.” he whispers.

“I promise,” I purr, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “We’re going to fix this, Ethan. I’ll fight for him. For you. For us.”

He sags against me, his head resting against my shoulder, and I hold him close, letting him breathe, letting him feel. Whatever it takes, I’ll keep that promise. For Ethan. For Reid. For all of us.