What Rei Survived

Rei didn't sleep.

She lay on her back in the darkness, staring at the ceiling while the photograph remained hidden beneath her mattress.

She had checked the lock six times.

The window twice.

The hallway three times.

There was nothing outside.

No footsteps.

No shadow.

No mysterious figure waiting beneath the trees.

And yet she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her.

It wasn't paranoia.

At least, she didn't think it was.

Rei had learned a long time ago that there was a difference between being paranoid and being observant.

People had called her paranoid before.

Usually right before something happened.

She rolled onto her side.

Her phone sat on the nightstand.

Dominic's name wasn't in her contacts.

She had almost added it earlier.

Almost.

She had no reason to have his number.

She certainly didn't need it.

And she absolutely wasn't going to tell him about the photograph.

Because the moment she did, he would become involved.

That was the last thing she wanted.

She knew what happened when people became involved in her problems.

They either tried to control them or became part of them.

Sometimes both.

Rei closed her eyes.

And immediately, she was sixteen again.

---

"Mom?"

Rei stood in the kitchen doorway.

She was sixteen years old.

Her school bag hung from one shoulder, and rainwater dripped from her hair onto the floor.

Her mother sat at the kitchen table.

She looked exhausted.

There were dark circles beneath her eyes.

A cup of coffee sat untouched in front of her.

"You're home early."

Rei looked toward the living room.

"Where is he?"

Her mother didn't answer.

Rei knew.

She always knew.

Her stepfather had a way of making the entire house feel different when he was there.

Even when he wasn't speaking.

Even when he was smiling.

Even when everyone else thought he was wonderful.

Rei had never liked him.

She remembered the first time her mother introduced them.

He had smiled.

Held out his hand.

Called her beautiful.

Rei had been uncomfortable immediately.

Her mother had laughed.

"He's just being nice."

Rei had smiled because that was what daughters did when their mothers were happy.

She had tried.

For months, she had tried.

Then the comments started.

At first, they were easy to dismiss.

Comments about her appearance.

Her clothes.

Her scent.

How much she'd changed as she'd gotten older.

Then came the moments when he stood too close.

The touches that lasted too long.

The comments that made her skin crawl.

Rei had told him to stop.

He had laughed.

She had told her mother.

Her mother hadn't believed her.

Or perhaps she had been too afraid to.

That was the part Rei still couldn't decide.

Maybe her mother had believed her.

Maybe she simply didn't know how to leave.

The first time Rei truly understood that her home wasn't safe, she had locked herself in her bedroom and pushed her dresser against the door.

She had sat on the floor until morning.

Listening.

Waiting.

Praying nobody would come upstairs.

The next morning, her mother had stood outside the door crying.

"Please don't make me choose."

Rei had stared at her through the small opening.

"I shouldn't have to ask you to choose me."

Her mother had covered her mouth.

And Rei had watched the woman she loved fall apart.

---

Rei opened her eyes.

Her dorm ceiling came back into focus.

She sat upright.

Her breathing was too fast.

She pressed both feet against the floor.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Breathe.

She had learned grounding techniques from a counselor at the community center.

Name five things you can see.

Four things you can touch.

Three things you can hear.

Two things you can smell.

One thing you can taste.

She looked around.

Desk.

Lamp.

Curtains.

Backpack.

Window.

Five.

Her blanket.

The floor.

Her sweatshirt.

The mattress.

Four.

The refrigerator humming down the hall.

A car outside.

Wind against the window.

Three.

She touched the edge of her desk.

Then the blanket.

She breathed.

Slowly.

Her body began to settle.

She hated these moments.

Because they made her feel sixteen again.

Helpless.

Trapped.

Small.

She had spent years becoming someone who could never be trapped again.

That was why she hated control.

Why she hated being cornered.

Why she hated people standing behind her.

Why she hated when someone raised their voice.

And why Dominic Vale made every instinct inside her scream.

He was an Alpha.

A powerful one.

And powerful Alphas were exactly what she had spent years learning to avoid.

---

Her mother had eventually left.

Not immediately.

Not cleanly.

It took years.

There were arguments.

Apologies.

Promises.

Broken promises.

Hospital visits.

Medication.

Counseling.

Then more arguments.

Her mother's mental health deteriorated beneath the pressure.

Rei had been the one who called for help more times than she could remember.

She had learned how to recognize the warning signs.

The sleepless nights.

The sudden bursts of energy.

The rapid talking.

The days when her mother couldn't get out of bed.

The anger.

The guilt afterward.

The apologies.

The endless cycle.

Rei had become a daughter and a caretaker at the same time.

She had learned how to cook before she learned how to drive.

How to hide overdue bills.

How to make excuses for missed appointments.

How to tell teachers that everything was fine.

Everything was never fine.

Eventually, her mother received treatment and began rebuilding her life.

But Rei couldn't.

Not while she was still living inside the memories.

So she left.

Blackthorn wasn't simply college.

It was an escape.

A chance to become someone who wasn't defined by what had happened to her.

She had promised herself that no one would ever control her again.

No one.

Not her mother.

Not her stepfather.

Not an Alpha.

Not Dominic Vale.

Especially not Dominic Vale.

---

The next morning, Rei arrived at the hockey arena before everyone else.

She liked being early.

Early meant empty.

Empty meant safe.

She unlocked the equipment room and began sorting the uniforms.

The repetitive movements calmed her.

Fold.

Hang.

Count.

Check.

Repeat.

She was halfway through the inventory when the door opened.

Rei immediately stiffened.

Dominic stood there.

"You're early."

"So are you."

"I have practice."

"I have work."

He looked around.

"Did you sleep?"

Rei continued folding jerseys.

"Yes."

"Liar."

She stopped.

"What?"

"You look exhausted."

"Maybe I am."

Dominic stepped farther into the room.

"Did something happen?"

"No."

His eyes stayed on her.

"Rei."

She hated the way he said her name.

Not because she disliked hearing it.

Because he sounded like he could see through her.

"I said I'm fine."

He didn't argue.

That surprised her.

Instead, he leaned against the wall.

"Okay."

She glanced at him.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"You're not going to interrogate me?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because if I push you, you'll shut down."

Rei stared at him.

Dominic shrugged.

"I've noticed things."

She looked away.

That was dangerous.

People who noticed things could eventually notice too much.

Dominic's gaze moved to her hands.

She was gripping the jersey tightly.

"You don't like being cornered."

Rei's fingers stopped.

"Stop."

He immediately backed away.

The movement was so quick that she looked at him.

He hadn't argued.

He hadn't demanded an explanation.

He had simply stopped.

That confused her.

"I'm sorry."

Two words.

Rei stared.

Dominic looked almost uncomfortable saying them.

"Why?"

"Because I crossed a line."

She didn't know what to say.

Nobody apologized that quickly.

Not without an argument first.

Not without blaming her.

Not without saying she was too sensitive.

Dominic walked toward the door.

"I'll leave you alone."

He reached for the handle.

"Dominic."

He stopped.

Rei swallowed.

"Thank you."

He nodded once.

Then left.

She watched the door close.

Something inside her shifted.

Just slightly.

Not trust.

Not yet.

But maybe the possibility of it.

---

That afternoon, Dominic noticed Rei wasn't herself.

She moved efficiently.

She always did.

But she was quieter.

Her shoulders remained tense.

Every time someone entered the room unexpectedly, she flinched.

Dominic noticed.

So did Coach Reed.

"Something wrong with your equipment manager?"

Dominic looked toward Rei.

"She's not our equipment manager."

"Whatever she is."

Dominic frowned.

"She's fine."

Coach Reed raised an eyebrow.

"You don't sound convinced."

Dominic didn't answer.

Coach Reed leaned closer.

"Whatever you're thinking, Captain, remember something."

"What?"

"Protecting someone doesn't mean deciding everything for them."

Dominic looked at him.

"I know."

"Do you?"

Dominic's jaw tightened.

Coach Reed smiled.

"You've spent your entire life confusing control with protection."

That hit harder than Dominic wanted it to.

Because his father had done the same thing.

His father had called control discipline.

Called fear motivation.

Called pain preparation.

Dominic had spent years trying to escape that philosophy.

Yet with Rei, his first instinct was still to control the situation.

Keep her close.

Keep her safe.

Make decisions for her.

He didn't like what that realization said about him.

---

That evening, Rei found herself sitting alone in the library.

She had a textbook open in front of her.

She hadn't read a single page.

Her mind kept returning to the photograph.

The house.

Her younger self.

The message.

You should have stayed away.

She looked around.

Students moved between the shelves.

Nobody appeared to be watching her.

Still, she couldn't relax.

She reached into her backpack and pulled out the photograph.

She turned it over.

There was something she hadn't noticed before.

A small symbol had been drawn in the corner.

A wolf.

But not the Blackthorn wolf.

This one had a crescent moon carved into its forehead.

Rei stared at it.

She had seen that symbol before.

Years ago.

On a box in her mother's closet.

She remembered asking about it.

Her mother had gone pale.

"Where did you see that?"

"On your box."

Her mother had immediately taken the box away.

"Don't touch it."

"Why?"

"Because some things are better forgotten."

At the time, Rei hadn't understood.

Now she did.

Someone from her mother's past knew about her.

And somehow, they knew she was at Blackthorn.

A shadow moved between the shelves.

Rei quickly folded the photograph.

"Who's there?"

Nothing.

She stood.

Her heart raced.

She moved between the shelves.

Empty.

She turned around.

A book sat on the floor behind her.

It hadn't been there before.

Rei crouched.

The cover was black.

No title.

She opened it.

The first page contained a single sentence.

The last Omega bloodline was never destroyed.

Rei stopped breathing.

She turned the page.

There was an old family tree.

Names.

Dates.

Bloodlines.

At the bottom was a name she recognized.

Her mother's maiden name.

Rei dropped the book.

"No."

She backed away.

Someone knew.

Someone knew what her family was.

And suddenly, Blackthorn didn't feel like an escape anymore.

It felt like a trap.

---

That night, Dominic found Rei sitting alone outside the arena.

She was staring at the trees.

He stopped several feet away.

"You shouldn't be out here alone."

She didn't look at him.

"I know."

He sat on the bench beside her, leaving space between them.

For several minutes, neither spoke.

Finally, Rei said, "Do you ever feel like your entire life was decided before you were old enough to choose it?"

Dominic looked at her.

"Yes."

She glanced at him.

He didn't elaborate.

Neither did she.

For once, they didn't need to.

Two people carrying different kinds of damage sat beneath the same dark sky.

Rei looked down at her hands.

"My family is complicated."

"So is mine."

"My mother isn't a bad person."

"I didn't think she was."

"But she made bad choices."

Dominic nodded.

"People can do both."

Rei looked at him.

That answer surprised her.

Most people wanted simple explanations.

Good people.

Bad people.

Heroes.

Villains.

But life wasn't simple.

Her mother had loved her.

Her mother had also failed her.

Both things could be true.

Rei took a breath.

"I don't like being controlled."

"I know."

"I don't like people deciding what's best for me."

"I know."

"I don't need someone to save me."

Dominic looked directly at her.

"I know."

Her voice became quieter.

"But sometimes..."

She stopped.

Dominic waited.

Rei swallowed.

"Sometimes I wish someone had saved me before I learned how to save myself."

Dominic's expression changed.

He didn't reach for her.

Didn't move closer.

He simply said:

"I'm sorry nobody did."

Rei looked away.

A tear escaped before she could stop it.

She wiped it away immediately.

Dominic pretended not to notice.

And somehow, that kindness hurt more than if he had.

Because for the first time in years, Rei didn't feel like she had to explain why she was crying.

She could simply cry.

And someone could sit beside her without demanding anything.

Neither of them knew it yet, but that quiet moment would become the foundation of everything that followed.

Because Dominic would eventually learn every scar Rei carried.

And Rei would eventually learn every scar he carried.

But before either of them could heal, they would have to survive the person who had deliberately brought them together.

And that person had just taken the next step.

The following morning, Rei's name appeared on a list outside the academy's main hall.

Not a class list.

Not a scholarship list.

A list that hadn't been seen at Blackthorn in more than fifty years.

At the top were four words:

OMEGA BLOODLINE REGISTRY — RESTRICTED

And beside Rei's name was a single red mark.

ACTIVE.