Kai shifts. “She’s not scared.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s safe,” I snap.
Silence.
Then Koa says, “She calms around you.”
I open my eyes. “Excuse me?”
“You ground her,” he continues. “We all see it.”
“That’s…a coincidence.”
“It’s not,” Kai says, irritation bleeding through. “And you know it.”
I step closer, letting a fraction of my control slip into my posture. “Enough.”
They fall silent, but the tension doesn’t dissipate.
“I will handle this,” I say. “All of it.”
Kai scoffs. “You’re already in too deep.”
That’s the problem.
I leave them there and retreat to the quiet of my office, closing the door behind me. Only then do I allow myself to sit at my desk, elbows braced on my knees, head bowed.
If Lani is an omega – and every instinct in me says she is – then her awareness will only sharpen. Her body will keep cataloguing us whether she wants it to or not.
And if she realises the truth before we shut this down?—
The damage won’t be theoretical.
I’ve managed worse situations than this. Controlled men more volatile. Protected people who didn’t want saving.
But none of them made my instincts scream this loud.
None of them settled simply because I was near.
And none of them looked at me like they were already starting to understand the rules of a game I never intended them to learn.
This needs to end.
Or be contained so tightly it never gets the chance to explode.
The problem is, I’m no longer sure which option keeps her safer. And I don’t trust myself to be neutral where she’s concerned.
THIRTY-ONE
FINN
I knowsomething’s wrong the moment I step inside.
Not because anyone says anything. Not because the house is loud or tense or obviously fractured. It’s subtler than that. The air feels…occupied. Like it’s been claimed in a way I didn’t witness but can still feel echoing through the walls.
I stop just inside the door, keys still in my hand.
An omega’s scent hits me.