20. REID

Chapter twenty

REID

I drift in and out of sleep all day, the world around me slipping into a haze of heat, sweat, and pain. Every time I wake, it’s to a new discomfort—my body aching, my skin clammy, my throat parched. The meds help, but they don’t take it all away. They just dull the edges, turn the sharp, stabbing pain into a slow, relentless throb that reminds me I’m alive— barely .

The couch has become my whole world. I don’t remember how I got here, only that Zana and Ethan have been hovering over me like I’m some fragile, injured animal they’ve taken in. Zana keeps changing out the cold compresses on my forehead, her movements steady, methodical, like she’s trying to will me into feeling better through sheer determination. Ethan is... well, Ethan. Bubbly, chatty, over the top. His energy fills the room and it’s like the guy doesn’t know how to sit still.

I find myself enjoying it rather than being irritated like I would have if this was Hailey. Relaxing around these two has become easier and as much as I don’t want to believe it, they’re both my mates. Between the overwhelming scents and the protective auras coming from them, I know they’re mine. Fate must hate me, though, dealing me a pack I can’t touch—not without legal repercussions.

“Are you sure he doesn’t want soup?” Ethan asks for the third time, his voice pitching higher like he’s asking the world’s most important question.

“Ethan,” Zana laughs as she wrings out another cloth. “He’s barely keeping down water. Let’s start with that.”

“But soup has—”

“If you say ‘healing properties,’ I swear I’ll shove it where the sun doesn’t shine,” I croak, my voice scratchy and weak, but I manage a glare in his direction.

Ethan gasps dramatically, clutching a hand to his chest like I’ve just mortally wounded him. “Rude.” He sticks out his tongue, grinning when a smile spreads across my face. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Help quieter,” I mutter, closing my eyes as the cool compress replaces the old one on my forehead. The relief is immediate and I let out a low sigh.

Zana chuckles softly, her fingers brushing against my temple as she adjusts the cloth. “He’s irritable,” she says, more to herself than anyone else. “That’s a good sign.”

“I’m always irritable,” I grumble, but it lacks any real heat. “It’s a personality trait at this point.”

Ethan plops down on the armrest of the couch, his knee bouncing with nervous energy. “Well, at least you’re consistent,” he chuckles.

I crack one eye open, glaring at him. “Do you ever turn it off?”

“Nope,” he says cheerfully, popping the ‘p’ like it’s a challenge. “I’m like this all the time. Zana says it’s one of my best qualities.”

Zana hums noncommittally and I snort. “Sure it is,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Right up there with your ability to talk without breathing.”

Ethan sticks his tongue out again and I almost smile. Almost. But the ache in my ribs and the weight pressing down on my chest remind me why I’m here and the fleeting moment of freedom slips away.

“You’re both lucky I can’t get up,” I tease, “Otherwise, I’d be finding somewhere quiet to die.”

“You’re not dying,” Zana growls, her voice cutting through my self-pity like a knife. “There will be no dying.” Something in her voice makes me want to fight. Makes me want to stand up to the Alphas that have ruined my life. Makes me want to tell Hailey what I truly think about her and her demands. They’ll kill me for what I truly want to say to them and yet, it’s now one of my only priorities. Well, that and figuring out how to tell my mind that I can open my heart to these two.

I’ve been guarding myself for so long that I don’t know how to let go.

Zana retreats to the kitchen as Ethan slides to sit on the edge of the couch, practically vibrating with that endless energy of his. His knee bounces like it’s got a mind of its own and he keeps fiddling with the edge of his sweater, glancing at me like he’s trying to hold himself back. I don’t know if it’s for my benefit or his, but it’s almost cute.

“You don’t have to hover, you know,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not going to keel over on you.”

He huffs, folding his arms, but he doesn’t move from his spot. “I’m just... making sure you’re okay.” I’ve never been around Omegas other than Hailey so I don’t know what to do with that sentiment.

I snort, shifting on the couch to sit up straighter. I wince and then hold up my hand before Ethan starts freaking out. “I’m fine, Ethan. Well, as fine as a guy can be after being dragged out of hell, patched up, and force-fed broth.”

“Zana’s just protective,” Ethan says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And you could’ve just eaten the broth, you know. Would’ve saved us all the whining.”

“Whining?” I feign offense, my hand pressing against my chest like he’s insulted my honor. “That wasn’t whining. That was constructive criticism. The broth you tried to feed me was fine but did it need to have so much salt?”

Ethan laughs, a warm sound that makes me forget about the dull ache in my ribs and the weight in my chest. “Zana always said I couldn’t cook. I try but it never comes out right.” He huffs, his nose scrunching up in a way I can only think of as adorable. But then he shifts closer, and the air between us changes. His laughter fades, his brown eyes locking on mine and it’s like the whole room tilts sideways.

He leans in, slow, giving me time to move away, to stop him. But I don’t. I can’t. His scent—bright and sweet like summer—wraps around me and I forget how to breathe. Ethan is dangerous and even if they keep saying that I’ll never go back, bringing another Omega’s scent into Hailey’s house would be the worst offense.

And still, I don’t stop Ethan.

Because I don’t want to.

His lips press against mine, hesitant, everything else falling away. The pain, the bruises, the contract hanging over my head—it all disappears. It’s just him and me and the way his hands tremble slightly as they rest on my shoulders.

The kiss deepens, his lips parting against mine, my tongue moving to dance with his. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and so goddamn good that I nearly forget why this is a bad idea. I pull back, breaking the kiss with a gasp. “Ethan,” I mumble, my voice low and strained. “We should stop.”

His brows knit together, confusion flickering in his eyes, his scent dimming. “Why?”

“Because if we don’t, I’m not going to want to,” I admit, leaning back against the couch. My heart’s racing, my chest tight with something I don’t have a name for. “And as much as I’d love to throw caution to the wind and make terrible decisions, there’s a little thing called red tape tying me up.”

“Red tape?” he echoes, tilting his head.

I sigh, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Yeah. You know, the whole ‘contracted to someone else’s pack’ thing? Makes this”—I gesture between us—“complicated.”

He frowns, his fingers twisting the hem of his sweater again. “Do you... do you want me?”

The question is so earnest, so painfully sincere, that I can’t help but laugh. It’s not a mean laugh—more like the kind you let out when you’re so overwhelmed you don’t know what else to do. “Ethan, that’s not the problem. Of course, I want you. Hell, you’re the first thing I’ve wanted in years that didn’t come with a price tag or a pile of bullshit attached.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

I sigh again, slumping against the cushions. “The problem is that Jackson and Lyle don’t let go of things they think belong to them. And while I’d love to tell them to shove it and live happily ever after with you and Zana, it’s not that simple.” Ethan opens his mouth to argue, but I hold up a hand. “Let’s not get into the legal nightmare that is my life right now. Talk to me instead. Distract me from the fact that I just kissed the sweetest, most frustrating Omega I’ve ever met.”

He perks up at that, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and mischief. “You think I’m sweet?”

I roll my eyes, a small smirk tugging at my lips. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He grins, and just like that, the tension eases. He starts talking, rambling about something ridiculous—his favorite pastries, a show he’s been binge-watching, some wild idea for a new nest he wants to build. His words come out in a rush, his hands gesturing wildly and I find myself smiling despite everything.

“You know,” I interrupt, raising an eyebrow, “you might actually be more annoying than Jackson and Lyle combined. But somehow, it works for you.”

Ethan gasps, mock-offended. “Excuse you, I am a delight.”

“Sure you are,” I say, leaning back. “Keep talking, ‘delight.’ Maybe you’ll distract me enough that I forget how much my ribs hurt.”

He sticks his tongue out at me, but he keeps talking, his voice filling the room with warmth. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like maybe—just maybe—I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

I wake up to the sound of breathing. It’s soft, steady, and definitely not mine. For a moment, I’m disoriented, my body heavy and my ribs aching like I’ve been hit by a freight train. Again. The room smells like summer—fresh grass, sunlight, and something sweeter—and I blink blearily at the ceiling, trying to figure out why my chest feels warm and weighted.

Then I look down.

Ethan is curled up against me, his head resting on my heart, his dark curls a mess against my shirt. He’s dead to the world, his breath puffing out softly in little bursts. I frown, not because I’m annoyed but because... what the hell is he doing here? And why does it feel so good?

The ache in my ribs pulls me back to reality and I wince, shifting slightly. That’s when I see her. Zana’s perched at the far end of the couch, a laptop balanced on her knees, her sharp eyes focused on the screen. She looks every bit the powerhouse I expected—cool, collected, and entirely too in control. Unlike Jackson and Lyle’s idea of control, I quite like Zana’s version.

She glances up, catching my movement, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re awake,” she muses, her voice calm but with that Alpha edge that makes it clear she’s been keeping a close watch. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a truck,” I mutter, my voice hoarse. “Twice.”

Her smile deepens as she sets the laptop aside. “Not surprising. You were a little touch-and-go for a while there. Ethan insisted on staying close. Said he needed to make sure you were breathing.”

I glance down at the Omega, my chest tightening in a way that has nothing to do with my injuries. Ethan shifts, nuzzling against me, and I feel the faintest brush of his scent. Warm, safe, mine .

Mine . The thought hits like a punch to the gut and I swallow hard, my hand moving on instinct to rest lightly on his back. He stirs at the touch, his eyes fluttering open. Those big, brown eyes blink up at me, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.

“Reid,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. “You’re awake.”

A smile breaks across his face, soft and unguarded, and it does something to me. Something I’m not ready to name. I lean down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before I can think better of it. He sighs, content, and settles back against my chest like he belongs there.

Zana clears her throat, pulling me back to the moment. Her expression is still calm, but there’s a new sharpness to her gaze. “Reid,” she starts, leaning forward slightly. “We need to talk.”

“Can we not?” I ask, trying for snark but coming off more tired than anything else. “I just got out of one nightmare. Do we really need to dive into another?”

“This isn’t a nightmare,” she states before relaxing her expression. “It’s about your future. Ours. You’re here now, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay. If this isn’t what you want, I need to know. Ethan needs to know.”

My entire body stiffens, the weight of her words settling over me. My fingers twitch against Ethan’s back, his breathing changing, becoming shallower. He’s awake now, fully awake, and listening to every word.

Zana continues, her gaze unyielding. “I want you here, Reid. Ethan wants you here. But if you don’t want this—if you don’t want us—I won’t risk his happiness. I won’t keep you if this isn’t what you want.”

The air feels heavy, the rush of blood in my ears nearly deafening Want? What do I want? My whole life has been about surviving, about bending to someone else’s will, about doing what’s expected. Wanting wasn’t part of the equation.

But now... I glance down at Ethan, his eyes wide and searching, his scent tinged with nervousness. My chest tightens again, and something in me shifts. The idea of walking away from this—from him, from her—feels wrong. Like cutting off a piece of myself.

“I...” My voice catches and I clear my throat, trying again. “I don’t know how to do this. How to be... part of something like this. But I’ve spent so long just trying to survive and all I’ve ever wanted was a family. People who give a damn. Maybe this could be that.”

“It’ll take time. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Ethan makes a soft, happy noise, his arms wrapping around me in a gentle hug. I chuckle, despite the ache in my ribs. “Easy there, sunshine,” I tease. “I’m already half-broken. Don’t finish the job.”

He pulls back, his cheeks flushed, but his smile is brighter than the damn sun. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I’m just... happy.” Then he snuggles right back up to my chest like he belongs there. There’s a sound coming from him, something similar to an Alpha purr but wholly Omega. It takes me a few seconds to realize that he’s purring for me—a sound that Omegas only make for their mates when they feel safe enough to do so.

And Ethan is making it for me.

If that doesn’t scream family, I don’t know what does.