Amber
The shelter’s bathroom door banged shut behind me, echoing off cracked tiles. My hands fumbled at the tap until icy water gushed out, splattering across the basin, splashing up onto my chest. I barely felt the cold. My only thought was to scrub. To scrape away the scent that clung to me like chains.
Rayne.
The mate bond hummed at the base of my neck, alive and electric, the mark he’d left still tingling under my skin. I grabbed the rough bar of soap, the one that always smelled faintly of bleach, and lathered it hard enough to burn. My arms moved furiously—scrubbing, rinsing, scrubbing again. Red streaks rose across my pale skin, but no matter how raw I rubbed, his scent lingered.
Irma, my wolf, was restless beneath the surface. “Mate,” she purred, her voice dark velvet in the back of my mind. “Ours. You can’t wash him away.”
“Shut up,” I hissed. My voice cracked in the tiny stall.
I pressed my forehead to the tile, eyes shut tight. For a moment, the damp air wasn’t from this bathroom. It was years ago, the leaky roof of the Pack shelter dripping onto the thin blanket I curled beneath. The same desperation to scrub away a world that marked me wrong. Omegas weren’t allowed dignity; I’d learned that before I could even shift.
My father’s voice rose from memory, sharper than the sting of soap in my eyes. “You’re no daughter of mine.” His hand had shoved a garbage bag at me, half-filled with my clothes. I’d been fourteen, still shaking from the shock of my first shift. Still stupid enough to think Irma would save me. That maybe, just maybe, I’d turn into something strong enough to make him proud.
Instead, Irma had appeared, small but fierce, declaring me what I already was: an Omega. The bottom of the Pack. The disappointment carved into my father’s face that day had been the last thing he ever gave me. He'd hated me from birth for taking my mother's life, and so had my brothers but presenting as an Omega was the final straw.
I bit down hard, forcing myself back to the present. I wasn’t that kid anymore. I wasn’t weak, no matter what they thought.
The water turned lukewarm, then cold again. I let it run over me until I couldn’t tell whether the trembling in my body came from the chill or the truth pressing at my throat.
When I stepped out, my skin was raw, my hair dripping. I dug through the drawer until I found a scent patch. My fingers shook as I slapped it over the mark. It dulled the pull, but not enough. The bond still thrummed under my skin, a cruel reminder I couldn’t ignore.
I stuffed my clothes from the night before into a bucket, filled it with water, and scrubbed until suds frothed and my arms ached. The scent of Rayne and me still lingered faintly in the fabric, stubborn and thick. It made my stomach knot but it made Irma purr.
Scrubbing things wasn't new to me. Be it clothes, dishes or even floors. When I first came to the shelter, they had worked me to the bone. Even amongst the other Omegas, I was an outcast due to my appearance. They'd laugh at me, tugging at my red hair and whispering things like freckle-face, ugly. They stole the small scraps I managed to get and dumped my water when no one was looking. I had swallowed the tears, done all my work, and shown up at school the next day like nothing touched me.
They thought I was fragile. They never saw the strength underneath.
I wrung out the last shirt, muscles burning, and hauled the bucket outside. The air was bright, the sun climbing fast, warming the cracked pavement under my feet. I wanted silence. Just a few minutes to hang my clothes in peace.
“Amber!”
I froze.
Reed.
He was waiting in the yard, waving like always, grin wide and impossibly bright. His energy filled every space he entered, the opposite of the heavy dread curling in my chest.
“There you are!” He called, striding toward me. “I’ve been looking everywhere!”
My pulse stuttered. The scent patch hid the mate mark, but it couldn’t cover everything. Rayne’s hickeys still dotted my skin, purple-red stamps of possession trailing down my collarbone.
Reed’s eyes landed on them instantly. His grin morphed into a wicked smirk.
“Well, well, well,” he drawled, stepping close. His finger brushed one bruise, feather-light. “Amber Queen, you sly little minx. I was worried sick when you vanished last night, and turns out you were out having the time of your life!”
I jerked back, heat flooding my cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Reed just laughed, his voice sharp and bright. “Don’t even think about hiding these. Goddess, girl, you got mauled. Who was it, huh? Come on, spill! You never date, you never even flirt, and now you show up looking like you spent the night with a whole pack of Alphas. You have to tell me something.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” I snapped, hanging a shirt with more force than necessary.
For a beat, Reed blinked, caught off guard. Then his grin returned, undeterred. “Fine. Keep your secrets. I’m just glad you finally got laid. Honestly, I was starting to think you’d die a virgin.”
“Reed—”
“No, no, don’t ruin this for me.” He leaned against the line, smirking. “You’ve been so anti-dating, so against finding your mate, and now look at you. You’re glowing. I’m proud of you, Amber.”
His words sliced through me, leaving guilt in their wake. If only he knew. If only he saw the truth lurking beneath my scent patch.
I forced a smile, brittle at the edges. “What about you, huh? When are you planning to come out? You can’t keep hiding forever.”
The smirk faltered. He raked a hand through his brown hair, sighing. “I don’t know. You know how it is here. People don’t accept different. My dad would disown me in a heartbeat. You’ve seen him.”
I crossed my arms. “Yeah, but you can’t live in the closet forever. Someone’s going to notice. Especially with how close you and Rayne are.”
His ears turned pink. “He doesn’t—”
“Oh, really?” I arched a brow. “Flowers, trinkets, that custom bracelet with the rune for ‘forever’ on it?”
Reed flushed deeper, lips pressing tight before he sighed. “Okay, fine. Maybe he spoils me a little. But people think we’re just close friends.”
“For now,” I said softly, clipping another shirt to the line. “But secrets have a way of surfacing. Especially when you care about someone as much as you care about him.”
His eyes softened, vulnerability slipping through his usual sass. “I love him, Amber. I love him so much it scares me. But if anyone finds out, we’re screwed. Rayne’s supposed to be the next Alpha. An Alpha doesn’t bond with a Beta. It won’t matter how we feel. I can’t give him children. His father would tear us apart.”
Irma growled, sharp and possessive. “He’s ours. Rayne belongs to us. Fight for him.”
I clenched my fists, forcing her back. My best friend stood in front of me, baring the rawest part of himself, and all my wolf wanted was to rip it away.
Reed had been the only person who ever made me feel seen. When everyone else looked at me and saw weakness, he saw Amber freaking Queen, his partner-in-crime, the girl worth dragging to parties and daring to laugh again. He’d stood beside me when bullies shoved me into lockers, his quick wit cutting sharper than fists.
And now… now I was betraying him in the worst way.
The truth burned on my tongue: Rayne is my mate.
But I saw Reed’s face. Saw the hope, the fear, the fragile thread of love he was clinging to. And I remembered standing outside my father’s door, garbage bag in my arms, praying someone would choose me.
I couldn’t do it. Not yet.
Reed tried for a grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmured, almost like he was talking to himself. “We have to.”
The last shirt dripped on the line, sunlight catching in the droplets. I swallowed down the truth and forced my hands to still. My heart ached, torn between bond and loyalty, wolf and friend.
No one had saved me when I was thrown away. I’d saved myself. And now, if I had to, I’d save Reed too—even if it meant shattering what little I had left.