Chapter Eight

I asked my omega to sit down. It had been a day from hell, and he deserved rest. I couldn't imagine the turmoil swirling inside him. He probably had more scars inside than I did, and that was saying something.

"Are you sure I can't help?" he asked. Sweet, precious male. He had been the reason so many omegas were saved today after coming out of his own hell, and he was asking if he could help.

"You've done enough, Hutch," I said. "Eat, please." He sighed and looked down at his plate but made no move to eat. I crouched down in front of him, daring to splay my hands on his knees. "Hutch, the others are about to be fed and are safe now. For me, please eat. I can scent your hunger. You need your strength."

Pop-Tart was cooking for the masses in batches. Hutch and some of the others got their plates out of the first batch while our teammate worked furiously to provide for everyone.

"Okay. Thank you."

"Mav, can you go meet Trigger at the back door? He's brought blankets and pillows and mattresses from the safe houses' storage."

I nodded at Hammer who kept a firm tone while he handed out orders. No time for pleases or thank-yous. We had fifty plus omegas to house and make comfortable and safe.

"No." Gray turned around. "Aziz is already there with Trigger. I… Mav, can you take Dominick while I interview everyone?"

Gray had been working nonstop since we got home from the rescue. He had stayed back, in communication with Hammer the entire time. He was the one who called Trigger and got the cogs moving before we even got back.

He had organized the shit out of this team, and we were all grateful.

"Come and see me, little wolf. Papa's got work to do." I lifted the babe from Gray's sling, and he nuzzled into my neck, not asleep but quiet amongst the chaos all around us. Managed mayhem, that's what Tyrus called it. The bear was dead on with that description.

With Dom in my arms, I took over the showering schedule. Gray had formulated a system for the incoming omegas. They would have any immediate medical needs tended to first. Then they would be interviewed by Gray to get their status, name, etc. so we could keep track. Once they were checked in, they were fed, given clothes, and moved to the showers to wait their turn while the cots were set up and labeled for each person.

Gray was a genius. We were lucky to have him.

I called in the next grouping of omegas and pointed them in the direction of the showers. We had the showering station built for us so that we could get any evidence of blood or other scents from our skin before we entered our personal spaces. We had no clue that one day they would be cleaning off scores of omegas who we had rescued for a second time.

Gods, the knowledge seared my veins.

We rescued them from torture and placed them into the hands of monsters.

A tingling beneath my skin made me switch my view from the movement around the warehouse to Hutch. He had almost finished his food, but that was not what kept my attention. He was staring—at me.

"How many?" Tyrus asked, coming up behind me. He rubbed Dominick's head and whispered some bear shit to him, making Dom let out a noise of glee.

The little tyke didn't mind that we were criminals in our own right.

"Fifty-seven," I said, but looked over at Gray. "I think he only has a few more to interview."

"Tell me I'm not the only one questioning everything."

I grunted. My dragon heated my chest a bit, sharing his own anger. "You're not. Truth is, I've been rethinking things before today, but this…I don't even fucking know."

"All this time, I thought you were on different missions. I had no clue. None of us did." While we had discussed some of this back at the scene, I knew they would have more questions. They probably had an entirely different opinion of me. In fact, I was surprised any of them were even speaking to me. I had killed people for our bosses. Bosses who claimed they were orchestrating the saving of omegas. My soul trembled with unease knowing that perhaps I had killed someone innocent. Nothing made sense anymore.

"Wasn't something I was exactly bragging about. I did what I had to. Doesn't mean I wanted to."

"We all missed this. We didn't follow up on the omegas. Didn't make sure the safe houses were actually safe. This is on all of our heads."

I agreed but made a noise of frustration. "He's taking all the blame on himself." I jutted my chin at Hammer.

"We're all blaming ourselves. Our whole fucking existence was firm, and now it's quicksand. The more we struggle, the deeper it sucks us in."

Hours later, we all breathed a sigh of relief. There were things we needed to delve into, but, for tonight, the omegas we rescued, again, were safe under our roof. They were all fed and showered, their physical wounds tended to.

Hammer and Gray had retired for the night after Dom fell asleep on my shoulder. Tyrus and Aziz cleaned up the kitchen. King would take the first watch. As his lion, he would prowl the borders. We no longer knew if we were the avengers or the target. Pop-Tart went to his room wordlessly while I paced the warehouse until everyone was settled.

Everyone but my mate.

I locked in on his movements as he grabbed a blanket from the pile and tucked a pillow underneath his arm.

"What are you doing?" I asked, assessing his scent. He was a bit worried but no longer starving or fearful.

"Going to sleep. I'm so tired. I don't think I've slept in months."

"Not here," I said, firmly.

"What? Why not?"

I couldn't tell him outright. Had to refrain from telling him that I needed him near. That letting him out of my sight was out of the question. These cots were the best we could do for the rest, but my mate would be in a real bed. In my bed. Nestled in the safest place I could offer him—right next to me.

And I wasn't taking no for an answer.