To ruin an Omega

Chapter 184: Hidden among wolves 1

FIA

The knock came sharp and sudden, three quick raps that cut straight through the quiet warmth Cian and I had built between us. It startled me enough that my shoulders tensed before I could stop it.

Cian turned his head toward the door. “Who is it?”

“I apologize for disturbing you, Alpha.” The voice belonged to one of the sentinels. Young. Nervous in that way that always made his words come out too fast. “But we have emissaries from the Silver Creek pack. They’re requesting an audience with both you and the Luna.”

Cian muttered a curse under his breath as he stood, the chair scraping softly against the floor. He crossed the room in long strides and pulled the door open. The sentinel snapped to attention.

“Emissaries?” Cian asked. “What do they want?”

The sentinel shifted his weight, eyes flicking down the hallway before returning to Cian. “They didn’t say, Alpha.”

Cian dragged a hand down his face. The lines around his eyes were deeper than usual, exhaustion finally catching up to him after a night spent cooking and hovering and pretending he wasn’t running on fumes. “I’ll go see to them.” He glanced back at me. “You should rest.”

“No.”

The word came out steady. Surprising even me.

He stopped mid turn and looked at me fully then.

I set the empty bowl aside and stood, half expecting the familiar dizziness to hit. It didn’t. My legs felt steadier than they had in days. “They’re probably here for one reason and one reason alone,” I said, my voice calm even as something sharp twisted low in my chest. I looked from Cian to the sentinel. “Hazel is finally getting her karma.”

The words tasted strange. Bitter and sweet tangled together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand more out of habit than need. “I should change into something presentable.”

Cian studied my face for a long moment. Whatever he saw there made him nod. He turned back to the sentinel. “Lead them to the sitting area. We’ll be down shortly.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The sentinel’s footsteps faded down the hall. Cian closed the door and leaned against it, arms crossed, watching me like he was memorizing the way I stood.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly. “Not if you’re not ready.”

“I’m ready. More than ready even.” I crossed to the wardrobe and scanned the contents without really seeing them at first. Nothing too formal. Nothing that looked like I’d been waiting for this moment. I settled on a cream blouse and dark pants, simple enough to pass as everyday but deliberate all the same. “Besides, if this is about Hazel, they’ll want to hear from me.”

He didn’t argue. He just waited while I changed in the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face to chase away the lingering redness around my eyes. When I stepped back out, he was still by the door. Still watching.

“Let’s go,” I said.

We went down the stairs side by side. Halfway down, my hand found his without thinking and he squeezed gently, grounding in the way only he ever managed. The sitting area at the front of the house was already flooded with morning light, tall windows turning everything soft and bright.

Four figures stood as we entered. Three men and one woman, all dressed in the formal, careful way pack representatives favored. Dark suits. Neutral expressions. Polished shoes that didn’t quite belong on our floors.

The tallest man stepped forward. Gray threaded through his dark hair, his face all sharp angles and practiced authority. “Alpha Cian. Luna Fia. Thank you for receiving us on such short notice.”

“Of course,” Cian said, gesturing toward the chairs. “Please, sit.”

They took their seats across from us. I smoothed my hands over my pants, more to give them something to do than out of nerves, and focused on keeping my breathing even. Whatever they’d come for, I needed to stay collected.

The tall man spoke again. “I am Elder Matthias Hale.” He gestured to the woman beside him. “This is Elder Vera Cross.”

She inclined her head slightly. Blonde hair pulled back tight, eyes sharp enough to miss nothing.

“Sentinel Marcus Reid,” said the third man, broader and younger than the others. He nodded once.

The fourth man cleared his throat. He was the youngest of them all, maybe twenty, with brown hair and olive skin that made the tension rolling off him impossible to hide.

I could not pinpoint where I had met him. It slowly clicked. Hazel’s Sentinel.

“Baruch Ashford.” He finally spoke.

The name hung in the air longer than it should have. Long enough for my body to go completely still.

He flinched. “Sorry,” he said quickly, forcing a laugh that didn’t land. “Nerves. It’s Baruch Ackers.”

It should have been easy to dismiss. A simple slip. People misspoke all the time when they were anxious. But the moment that first name left his mouth, something inside me locked tight.

Baruch Ashford.

I knew that name. I had never met the person who carried it. Had never seen a face attached to it. But I knew it the way you know a scar you’ve lived with for years, something buried deep and permanent that never quite fades.

Milo had made sure of that.

Late nights stretched out on his small bed, the city outside the estate quiet beyond the windows, when he talked about his family in pieces rather than stories. The brother he’d lost touch with because they drifted apart. The half brother, really, because their father had been the kind of man who left fragments of himself scattered across other lives.

Baruch Ashford. Milo’s brother.

My gaze snapped back to the young man sitting across from me. He was already looking at me, not with polite curiosity but with something intent and searching, like he was trying to say something without opening his mouth.

And suddenly, I knew this visit was about more than Hazel. At this for this man.