All Chapters of The Alpha's Forbidden Omega: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

BronI'm standing between Wren and the door before my father even makes it inside.He walks in like he owns the building, because technically he does, the same way he owns half of everything in this territory, and behind him are two of his personal security men, men I've known my whole life, men who used to teach me how to throw a punch when I was twelve years old and are now standing in a doorway looking at me like they're waiting to find out whose side they're supposed to be on."Get out," I say, before he's even fully through the door."That's an interesting way to greet your father." His eyes move past me, past Miriam, and land on Wren sitting frozen on the exam table, and something happens on his face that I've genuinely never seen before. Not anger. Not disgust. Something closer to recognition, sharp and sudden, like he's just confirmed something he already suspected."You knew," I say slowly, watching that look settle into place. "You alread

BronI don't leave her that night. I don't even ask if I should. I just stay, and she doesn't tell me to go, and that's the closest thing to permission either of us seems capable of giving right now.My father's security is posted outside staff housing by sundown, two men at the end of the block, another pair rotating through the tree line behind it, more coverage than I've ever seen him put on anything that wasn't a business asset. It should make me feel better. It doesn't. Every extra guard just reminds me how real the threat actually is, how close somebody already got to touch a mark she's spent her whole life hiding.Wren hasn't said much since the photo. She sits curled on the end of her bed with her knees pulled up, staring at nothing, and I sit in the chair across from her because I don't know what else to do with myself, because leaving isn't an option my body seems willing to consider tonight."You don't have to stay," she says finally, quiet, th

WrenThe last thing I remember clearly is the burning.Not the bond-ache, not the familiar hook under my ribs. This is different, bigger, spreading fast through every part of me at once, like something that's been sleeping my whole life just woke up all at once and doesn't know how to be gentle about it."Stay behind me," Bron says, low, and I try to. I really do. But my body isn't listening to me the way it's supposed to anymore.The men spread out through the trees, six of them now that I can count, moving with the same predatory calm as the one who spoke first, and none of them look afraid of an Alpha standing his ground in front of them, which terrifies me more than anything else about this whole moment. Bron's dangerous. Everyone knows Bron's dangerous. These men look at him like he's an inconvenience instead of a threat."Last chance to make this easy," the lead man says, eyes flicking past Bron to me, and something about the way he looks at

BronRowan's cottage sits at the end of a dirt road so overgrown it takes Mom three tries to find the turnoff, and once we're inside, she doesn't stay long. She shows us where the wood's kept, where the well pump sticks, presses a set of keys into my hand along with a look that says “don't waste this,” and then she's gone, leaving us alone in a house that's been empty for twenty years and somehow still feels lived in.I don't sleep the first night. I just watch her.Wren's curled up on the narrow bed in the back room, exhausted past the point of dreaming, and I sit in the doorway with my back against the frame, unwilling to be anywhere else, unwilling to let more than a room's width sit between us after everything that happened in those trees. The ache under my ribs has gone quiet again, the way it always does when we're close, and some possessive, unreasonable part of me refuses to let

Wren"Personal assistant,” Briar says the words like they taste strange in her mouth, walking backward in front of me so she can properly study my face for signs I'm joking. "That's the title he gave me. Personal assistant to the Alpha's mate.""That's the title.” I shrug. "I fold laundry, Wren. I burn toast on purpose because the smell annoys the head cook. What exactly am I assisting with?” She asks me. "Existing near me, mostly." I bump her shoulder, grateful for the normalcy of her laughing even though nothing about the last few days has felt remotely normal. "Bron pulled you off kitchen duty completely. No more scrubbing pots, no more hauling laundry down four flights of stairs. You've got a room in the same wing as me now instead of staff housing.""Because some maniac broke my door down looking for you.” She says.