Harper’s [POV]
“We’re your pack.”
It doesn’t make it any better, even though my heart does a tiny flip.
“Not anymore, you’re not,” I snap.
Beau visibly flinches and Grey’s nostrils flare. But James nods at me, understanding etched on his features.
“You’ve said that before, you know,” he smirks. “But it wasn’t true last time, since you found us again.”
“Found you again?”
I try my best not to panic despite the urge to scream, cry, and curl up into a ball.
They knew who I was the entire time.
They knew how desperate I was to know the truth, yet they willingly kept it from me.
“Probably…oh, about two years ago?” James says bitterly, turning to Grey, who nods his head. “You left us. All of us.”
I barely register Charlotte sobbing and excusing herself.
“Well…” I try, but my voice was weak. “I must have had a good reason.”
Grey growls. “You don’t want to go down that road with me.”
Years of hurt flash in his eyes, which he quickly covers up with a mask of indifference.
“And you don’t want to go down that road with me!” I shriek in disbelief. “You lied to me this whole time, and you’re mad that I dare question why I left you?”
“Just because you forgot, doesn’t mean it never happened,” Beau says quietly. He looks devastated, and every instinct in me screams to go to him, despite what he’s done.
“Tell me what happened, Beau,” I implore him. “You’re the only one I still trust at this moment. I want the truth. All of it.”
He nods, his lips pulled into a thin line. “We wanted to mate you,” he says softly, and I glance at James and Grey, their expressions carefully blank. “We told you we loved you.”
My heart aches at his words.
“And…what happened then?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“And then you fucking left,” Grey snarls, and I jump at his ferocity. “You left without saying goodbye. You vanished.”
“We thought something happened to you,” Beau adds softly, staring at the floor. “We went out looking for you. The entire town did.”
“Then you sent those letters,” Grey adds. “Which you conveniently don’t remember.”
I truly don’t remember any of it.
“Renee says I sent her one, too,” I whisper. “What did they say?”
Guilt bubbles in my core, but I refuse to let it show.
Regardless of what happened, they still lied. They still kept this from me for far too long.
Beau shakes his head, and I have a feeling it’s worse than I could have imagined.
“Things you should never say to someone you love,” he whispers.
A wave of nausea hits me.
“I don’t remember,” I say. “I truly don’t.”
Even though they are the ones that are kept secret, I want to apologize to them.
Realization dawns on me.
“So, that’s why you were so cruel to me those first days,” I say to James, then turn to Grey. “And why you were so cold.”
“You were gone for almost two years, Princess,” James says. “And then you showed up with a new name and enough drugs in your system to be a Beta. It was like you were hell-bent on torturing us.”
I can’t breathe. The room spins, and I think I’m going to faint.
“You kept this from me,” I whisper, leaning against the wall for support.
They stay silent.
“What was the plan?” I demand, my voice cracking. “Have me fall in love with you all over again, and watch me try to put my life back together without the knowledge you have of who I was?”
It wouldn’t have been that bad, my inner Omega says.
They did it to protect us.
I shake her away.
“If that was the only way I could have you again, I was willing to do it,” Grey admits. “But we quickly realized it wasn’t right.”
“We were planning on telling you tonight,” James adds.
“Right,” I scoffed, looking at the sketchbook in my hands. “Well, it looks like you have impeccable timing.”
I’m a mixture of guilt and anger, hurt and anxiety.
I want to believe them that this is all they were and that there are no more secrets.
That the mysteries are finally solved.
“Who’s the fourth owner of the Aurora Inn?” I demand. “Since we’re putting everything out in the open. And who is the designer you used to work with?”
Please don’t say another Omega, I think wildly.
James tilts his head. “You,” he says softly. “This is our house.”
I need air.
This is too much to process.
But they continue to talk as if they didn’t just drop a massive bomb on me.
“You grew up in the foster system, too,” Beau adds softly. “You were the one that taught me how to garden. Not a random book.”
I can’t breathe.
I push off the wall and rush past them into the dining room, leaning over the custom table.
The table was designed.
“This is our house.”
With a gasp, I stumble to the French doors that lead to the garden, with James and Grey mere feet from me.
“Don’t follow me,” I snarl at them, tears clouding my vision.
They lied about everything they knew the whole time
Why why why
“Don’t leave us again,” Grey demands, his voice wavering.
But I can’t think.
I can barely speak.
“If you care about me, if you ever loved me at all, you will not follow me,” I choke out, before running out the door.
I stumble through the garden in the dark, my bare feet slapping against the stone path.
This is our house.
You were the designer.
You were the one that taught me how to garden.
I sob, holding my hand to my mouth, confused, heartbroken, and scared.
You were gone for almost two years.
Two years with Michael, two years without them.
They hid it all from me.
I’m mad at myself.
I’m mad at them.
I’m mad at the fucking world for being so confusing and fuckingunfair.
They loved me, and I left them.
Why?
You’re our Omega.
We’re your pack.
I end up at the edge of the woods, where tall trees and trails begin.
They didn’t follow me.
I crouch on the ground, my head in my hands, and weep.
Emotions pour out of me. I’m relieved that the truth is out, yet heartbroken over the circumstances that led to it happening.
If only I could remember…
Breathe, Harper.
Or is it Evelynn?
Eventually, I tire of crying and my body is purged of the tears.
I’m ready to talk now.
It’s time I find out more from them.
I stand up, brushing dirt off my knees, and turn to head back to the inn.
“Mrow.”
Wilson sounds too far away, deep in the woods.
He knows she’s not supposed to be out further than the garden, and he’s usually very good about it.
“Mrow.”
It’s nighttime, and I begin to panic.
“Wilson?” I call.
“Mrow.”
I can’t leave him out here until morning.
“Wilson?!”
Dirt seeps into my bare feet as I follow the sound of the cat, weaving through the trees, barely seeing a few feet in front of me. I veer off the trails and stumble into branches, scratching my arms and legs in my desperation to find him.
My heart pounds in my chest, and I try not to panic.
“Meow.”
“C’mon, big boy,” I call into the night. “Come on, let’s go home.”
Home.
The Aurora Innis my home.
And just as I have that realization, I come to a clearing and am blinded by the headlights of a truck.
Michael stands in front of me, with Wilson in his arms.
I freeze.
His truck is running, the engine loud and obnoxious, and Wilson looks as terrified as I feel. The headlights illuminate Michael’s striking features, and in the moonlight, he looks like a monster.
A monster that’s holding my best feline friend.
“Get in the truck,” he orders quietly. I can barely hear him above the running engine, but I obey, keeping an eye on Wilson as I walk to the passenger side door.
He’s still holding my cat, and he raises an eyebrow at me as if daring me to scream.
I don’t.
With a defeated sigh, I open the door and enter the vehicle, shutting the door behind me.
Michael gets in the driver’s seat, and blessedly, places Wilson down on the ground. He shuts his door, and I watch from the window as Wilson bolts back into the woods.
When he’s out of view, we drive away, leaving my heart in Aurora.