Deputy Omega At Your Service

Chapter [Fithteen]

I lay, chained to the creaky hospital bed, idly tracing the cracks in the ceiling, bored out of my mind. The questioning with Agent Bennette had ended with him storming off, red hair mussed from frustrated raking. Poor guy didn't find anything juicy despite rifling through my things; all those fake passports and identity docs I had? Worthless, he'd muttered. Sure, they weren't something I liked having on me, but when you're trying to stay off the Wolven Council's radar, you take what you can get.

And no way was I selling out Quinton. He might have been a nervous wreck most of the time, but he was a decent soul, too skittish to mess with anything bigger than his little forgery gig. He helped people who needed a fresh start or a buffer from some ugly past—mostly battered spouses trying to disappear, guys who didn't think a prenup mattered until it was too late, or wives left with nothing when their partners decided younger was better. It wasn't glamorous work, but Quinton did his best to help people patch up their lives.

The TV stayed off because I didn't need to see another "Housewives of New York City" marathon. If I had to watch one more scene of women clawing at each other with diamond-encrusted nails over some ridiculous scandal, I'd lose it.

Drama. Right. I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut as I sent a silent plea to the Moon Goddess for a shred of patience. A familiar scent—mint with a hint of daffodil—hit me just before the door swung open, and then I was engulfed in a bear hug that nearly knocked the air out of me. Blond hair flooded my vision.

"My baby!" my mom's hands flew to my face, her blue eyes combing over me like she was checking for hidden wounds. Her voice trembled. "Look at you—you've grown! Oh, I missed you so much." She planted kisses on my cheeks before smacking my chest lightly. "Running away from the pack? Really? Did you have to make us worry so much? We could have figured something out, you know..." Her voice cracked, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

From the foot of the bed, my father stood like a silent sentinel, gaze heavy, judging every inch of me. Six years had added flecks of gray to his dirty-blond hair and deepened the permanent frown lines on his face, but he was still built like a boulder in that green polo shirt, muscles straining beneath the fabric as if ready to break free.

"How are you, son?" he asked in his deep, resonant voice that echoed through the sterile room. Son, huh? Funny choice of words, coming from him.

I managed a tight smile. "Oh, you know—just living the dream." I gave the handcuffs a shake, the metal jingling against the bed rail. "This really adds to the ambiance."

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. "You could have avoided this if you'd only accepted your duty."

Anger flared up, my nails digging into my palms as a low growl escaped my throat, vibrating the window nearby. "And what exactly is my duty? To be the pack's... toy? To be pawned off to the highest bidder so you can score points with some spineless alpha who needs a baby machine?"

My mom's gasp echoed around us, her hand flying to her mouth. "We'd never force you into that again, Caleb. The first time was worse enough."

I gave her a hard look. "Maybe, maybe not, but it sure felt like you had other plans for me." The words came out bitter, twisted with the years of resentment I'd kept locked up. "So tell me—why are you both here?"

My father's lips pressed into a thin line. "The Wolven Council has convened. They'll call for you when they're ready. You've broken enough laws to ensure they won't go easy on you. This entire mess could have been avoided if you'd just trusted us to handle things. Justin convinced the elders to let you live quietly—hell, he tried to get his father to agree to let you go to college." He shook his head, disappointment written all over him. "And then you threw it all away."