Archive of Our Own

There was a bang from downstairs—wood splintering around the frame with the unmistakable sound of something forced open. 

The house flinched around them, and Noah’s teeth clacked together as he jumped.

Joe's hands stilled on Noah's hips. For half a second, everything froze—the weight of the alpha, the stale heat of the room, the sour-sweet scent of alpha sweat and cheap cologne clinging to Noah’s skin.

“What the fuck was that?”

There were pounding feet, heavy boots in the foyer. Joe pushed himself off the bed, shoving Noah into the pillows darkened with oil from skin and hair in the process. He gestured for Noah to stay put.

“Police, search warrant, come out with your hands up!” a voice called from downstairs.

Noah's heart skipped in his chest. He looked anxiously up at Joe, gauging his reaction. In all of Noah's time with the Crawley pack—which was to say his entire life—nothing like this had ever happened.

The occasional wellness check or noise complaint, sure, but this?

The alpha ran a hand through his greasy, thinning hair. “Fuck,” Joe hissed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He made for the window, pulling the blinds out of the way and throwing the glass open. He didn't even look back at Noah as he scrambled onto the edge of the roof.

Noah sat up in the bed, fingers tangling anxiously in the cheap duvet. Should he go downstairs? Or should he stay here and let the cops find him? His head felt kind of funny actually. Like he'd had half a drink too many.

He listened to the sound of Joe’s top heavy body hitting the frozen ground outside. 

“You're under arrest!”

Joe was one of his mother’s mates. Not Noah’s biological father, but he was there for all of the important moments. Bubble baths, ballet recitals, pediatrician appointments. That was part of the reason Noah always felt weird when Joe took him to bed. 

His thoughts drifted like paper underwater. Had Joe drugged him? Preferred Noah calm, sometimes. But Noah hadn't been particularly fussy today.

Footsteps were pounding up the old creaky stairs. A wave of scent hit him. The heavy, thick, choking scent of alpha. Stronger than Noah had ever smelled before. He lurched to his feet. 

This scent smelled like an evergreen forest, or a Christmas tree farm, or maybe a particularly strong holiday candle. It penetrated the room like winter air through a cracked window. It was delicious, and satisfying, unlike any scent Noah had smelled before. Heat pooled in his stomach.

There was only one thing that would elicit that type of reaction from him; one of his fated mates was in the house.

The shouting blurred into crackling television static in Noah's brain. Someone was saying something—commands, probably—but Noah couldn’t hear it.

His head was still thick, like his thoughts were dragging through syrup.

He knew what fated mates did to omegas. He’d watched fate hollow his mother out one careful bite at a time. They took and they took and they sold and they hurt until there was nothing left, and then they made her pump out babies until she produced an omega who could replace her.

He'd be damned if he let himself be taken.

The door handle rattled.

His desperate will to live moved him across the room.

The window was still open, curtains snapping weakly in the wind. Noah stumbled toward it, vision tunneling, the room pitching under his feet. His shoulder clipped the dresser, sending something clattering to the floor, but he didn’t stop.

The scent was stronger now. 

Closer.

He hauled himself onto the sill, hands slipping for a second on chipped paint. The roof slanted away beneath him, steeper than he expected.

Behind him, the door burst open.

“Hey—!”

Noah didn’t look.

He scrambled out, bare feet scraping against rough shingles. His balance tipped too far, too fast. The world lurched sideways.

For one suspended second, he was weightless.

The edge of the roof vanished under him and he went down hard, branches clawing at his skin as he crashed into the bushes below. The impact knocked the air from his lungs in a painful, choking rush.

Everything went white.

For a moment, he couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe.

Then air came back in a ragged gasp, and with it, panic.

Noah pushed himself up with shaking arms. Leaves clung to his hair, his skin, his clothes—a set of skimpy pajamas gifted by a client. Something warm trickled down his ankle, but he didn’t look.

Didn’t have time.

A shout from above.

He moved. 

Someone yelled behind him—sharp, commanding—but Noah didn’t turn. Didn’t slow. The world blurred around him, trees and shadows and open space all blending together like a particularly trippy nightmare.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been outside like this with no one holding his arm.

The ground was uneven, littered with rocks and roots that chewed at his bare feet. Branches snagged on his clothes, his skin, leaving stinging trails behind. The woods closed around him in dark, needled jaws. 

All he could feel was that scent at his back.

That pull.

Fate.

Graham Thorne rubbed at his eyes as he sat on the front porch of the dilapidated house they'd just raided. All occupants were accounted for except for the omega who'd managed to escape into the woods.

Graham’s fated omega.

Who smelled like honey suckle and green meadows, the scent filling the house like spring had come three months early, clicking something deep and consequential in place in Graham’s chest. He had realized the situation the moment he stepped across the threshold.

Now he had to call his packmates and tell them he'd let their most biologically compatible omega fall out of a window and run off into the woods.

Sergeant Maddox squatted next to him, placing a meaty hand on his shoulder and squeezing once. “We've searched the whole neighborhood and the surrounding woods. There’s no sign of him. We’re going to broaden the search, bring in dogs. You should go home. I’ll call you as soon as we find anything.”

It was an unprecedented situation. Nobody quite knew how to react. Omegas didn’t run from their fated packs. They didn’t fling themselves out windows to escape their alphas. Everyone was doing the best they could.

“Thanks,” Graham said, voice rough with unspoken emotion.

Maddox patted his arm. “We’ve already put out a BOLO. I’ll keep you updated.” The man stood and made his way over to a circle of deputies in the front yard. 

Graham pulled out his phone, pressed number one for speed dial, and lifted it to his ear. It rang once.

“What's wrong?” Adrian answered, mouth full. “I thought you had that thing today.”

Graham took a moment to listen to his alpha's voice. Adrian was the type of pack alpha who would lay down his life for his mates. The news was going to break his heart into little pieces.

“I thought you were on set today,” Graham countered, wanting to delay the heartbreak a little longer.

Graham could practically hear the other alpha roll his eyes. “It’s noon. We're at lunch. What's wrong?”

Graham took a long breath. He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. How did you tell someone you lost one of their fated mates? “Aid, I don't—I don't really know what to say.”

“Graham,” Adrian said, swallowing his food. His voice was orienting. It settled something in Graham's chest. “I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Now tell me.”

“I found our omega.”

There was shifting on the other end of the phone, probably as Adrian abandoned his food and headed for the parking lot. “During the raid? Are they okay? I'm texting my pilot right now.”

“He's gone—”

Adrian sucked in a breath. 

“Sorry, no, not—he ran. He's missing.” Graham wiped a tired hand over his face. “He scented me and he ran.”

“He what?”

“Out a second story window. Barefoot.” Graham was particularly worried about that bit. It was the middle of January, and the weather had been harsh the last few weeks.

“Graham, it's thirty degrees there.”

Their little valley town was in the worst of its winter.

“I know. I know. Shit. We’re looking for him, all the guys are looking for him. My sergeant wouldn’t let me join the search. He said I needed to contact you. And I think he’s sending me home.”

There was a moment of silence on the other side of the line. Adrian was typically a laid back leader. He captured people’s attention effortlessly, and kept them hooked with a relaxed smile. But Graham could feel the uncharacteristic tension radiating off the alpha over the phone. “That's probably a good idea. There’s no way you’re in the right state of mind for work right now.”

“I feel useless,” Graham admitted.

“You’re not useless, you’re doing everything right. And I need you to take care of Felix and Milo until I can get home. I won’t get there until tonight.” 

Their two betas didn’t even know yet. Felix was still at the school and Milo was probably in town. Graham would need to corral them back at the house so they could wait for news together. 

Christ, this was not how Graham was expecting his day to go. 

“Please get here as soon as possible,” he said, embarrassed of the desperation in his voice, but not able to hide it.

“I will. I’m leaving set now.” The alpha paused again, then sighed deeply. “Graham, I know you trust your guys—”

“This is going to leak. I know.”

That was just part of being in a pack with a super hot actor celebrity. Sometimes your private life gets put on blast. Adrian Thorne’s omega running from his fated pack? That would be the hottest news on social media for days. Graham didn’t even blame whoever was going to sell the story to the press. 

“Melinda will be on top of it.” 

Melinda was Adrian’s godsend publicist who had seen the pack safely through the addition of Milo a few years ago. She’d handled countless other crises with poise, and Graham trusted her with his life. 

Graham listened to a car door open and shut on Adrian’s end.

“Okay, I’ll call Felix at work, send him home. You wrangle Milo. I’ll be home by six thirty at the latest.”

“Thank you, Aid. I love you.”

“I love you too. See you soon. Bye.” 

The line went dead. Graham hung his hands between his knees and breathed for a minute. When his head was somewhat clear, pressed Milo's contact. It rang and rang until Graham thought he might have to call again, but at the last moment, Milo picked up.

“I thought you had that thing today? Lots of paperwork afterwards,” Milo said.

“Where are you?” Graham asked.

Milo’s voice was serious when he said, “In a taxi. Why?”

“I need you to go home. I’ll meet you and Felix there.”

Milo breathed over the line for a moment, then said, “Graham, you’re putting me on edge. Is everyone okay?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re all home.”

“Graham,” Milo said, admonishing. “You will tell me this instant.”

Graham sighed. Adrian was probably telling Felix over the phone anyways. “No one can hear me?”

“You’re in my headphones,” Milo confirmed.

“I found our omega. He ran away.”

“What?” Milo said, voice pitching up. “What do you mean?”

“They’re looking for him now. I need you to go home so we can wait for news. Adrian’s on his way home too.”

Milo didn’t speak, but Graham could hear his breaths picking up pace over the phone. 

“Deep breaths, Milo.” Graham pushed himself to his feet, making for his car. Sergeant Maddox  nodded at him as he passed. “All our best people are looking for him, we’re going to find him.”

He listened to his beta take an artificially deep breath, then another. Graham was silent as he climbed into his vehicle and hooked up his phone to the hands free system. He wasn’t quite willing to hang up yet. 

“Graham?”

“Hmm?”

“What did he smell like?”

Graham let out a soft sigh. He pulled out into the empty residential street. “You remember that bouquet of wildflowers Aid got you for your birthday last year?”

“Oh,” Milo said. “Did he smell hurt?”

Graham thought back to the wave of scent that had curled around him as he walked through that front door. It’s been undeniably omega sweet, but it had a hint of fermented tang as well. “He was scared. I don’t think he was hurt. At least, before he fell out the window.”

“Before he what?”

They spoke for the rest of the drive home. Eventually, Milo said, “I’m home.”

Graham was arriving as well. By the time he turned onto the private drive, the weak winter sun was filtering silver through the bare trees, turning the gravel pale beneath his tires. The house emerged slowly between the pines, all steep gables and green siding, its many windows catching the light in uneven flashes. 

Even after years of living there, the place still looked faintly unreal to him—too large, too oddly shaped, like something out of an old storybook tucked away in the South Carolina woods. The wraparound porch sagged slightly beneath the weight of old wicker furniture and empty planters left over from summer, and dead leaves littered the roof.

Felix’s bike was parked in its usual spot, indicating the beta had beat both of them home.

There was a worn yellow cab pulled in front of the front walk. Graham got out of his car and made his way over to where Milo was climbing out of the backseat. 

“Thank you,” Milo said to the driver with an impossibly kind smile before shutting the door. He turned to Graham and held out an arm.

Graham took it, guiding Milo up the steps and to the front door.

“I can’t smell him on you,” Milo commented, leaning into Graham as he shuffled for his keys and unlocked the door.

“I was never even in the same room as him.” Graham wrapped an arm around Milo’s waist and led him inside. “Let’s get to Felix.”

When they stepped into the kitchen, Felix was sliding the kettle onto the stove. His shoulder length dark hair was mussed and his brown leather jacket was draped over a kitchen chair. His tattoos, a collection of vines and other flora, wove intricately up his forearms, disappearing under the rolled sleeves of his white button down. 

He looked over at them. “You really found him?” He asked Graham, voice doing something complicated.

Milo let go of Graham to float into Felix’s arms. The beta caught him effortlessly, but held Graham’s gaze over his shoulder. 

“Yes,” Graham said, walking over to join his betas. “Briefly. But we’ll find him again.” He wrapped the two men in a hug.

“You should change, get comfy. We should do something distracting while we wait for Aid.” Felix carefully untangled himself, shooting a look at Graham’s uniform. 

Felix shooed him to his bedroom where he changed into jeans and a t-shirt. By the time he came downstairs, the tea was poured into three mismatching teacups, set on a tray on the coffee table. The two betas were seated on the couch, sharing a quilted throw blanket between them.

“Movie?” Graham asked as he sat down, not really feeling the suggestion himself.

Milo tipped over so he was leaning against Graham, and Graham slipped an arm around him and pulled him closer. 

“I want to keep an eye on social media,” Felix said, pulling out his phone. “Once this drops, it’s going to spread like wildfire.”

All three of them had a decent following on Instagram. Milo even put out homemaking Tiktoks that always did well. Out of the three of them, Milo was definitely the most popular. When he’d joined the pack, he was still recovering from his accident, and fans wanted to know all about his condition. He’d amassed something of a cult following from the vlogs he posted during his recovery. 

“Holy shit, that was fast,” Felix said, sitting up straight. “A fan DM’d me an article. He wants to know if it’s legit.”

“Well, don’t answer,” Graham said gruffly.

Milo poked Felix. “Read it to me.”

“Adrian Thorne’s fated omega runs away from pack—a bombshell interview with a source close to the Thorne pack.” Felix paused to scoff. “Adrian’s alpha mate, Graham Thorne, is a deputy with the Lenora County Sheriff’s Department in South Carolina. During a raid that took place Monday, January 12th, Graham met the pack’s previously undiscovered fated omega. When the omega scented the alpha, they ran, escaping through a window. It was not immediately clear if the omega was a victim or a perpetrator of the crimes being committed at the location.”

“Oh my god,” Felix said, wiping a hand over his face. “They don’t know if he’s a victim or not?”

“It doesn’t say anything about it being a trafficking operation. That’s what it was, right Graham?” Milo asked.

Graham nodded. “Yes.” He made a motion for Felix to carry on.

“Adrian Thorne, who is currently filming for the movie Brookstone set to come out next year, was not available for comment—Yeah, no shit. The omega remains missing in the Lenora area. If you have any information, please contact the local authorities.” Felix was silent for a minute, scrolling through his phone. “A couple of fan accounts have already picked it up. I’m sending this to Melinda.”

“Do that,” Graham agreed. He picked up his mug and took a sip, taking a moment to appreciate the citrus and floral flavor of Milo’s homemade mix. 

They sat like that for a long time. The room filled with the thin, fragile warmth of tea and shared fear. Eventually, Felix announced that a major news network was running the story, and that Melinda wanted them to put out a statement. 

Felix’s phone rang.

“It’s Adrian,” he announced, answering it and putting it on speaker. “Hi, baby, we’re all here.”

“Hey guys,” Adrian said. He sounded as wiped as Graham felt. “I’m on the plane now. How are you guys holding up? Any news from your work, Graham?”

“No news. I got a text a little while ago that the dogs didn’t find anything in the neighborhood.”

“That’s news, Graham,” Adrian said, but he didn’t sound upset. “Did you all get Melinda’s text?”

“Yep,” Felix said. 

“Great. She’s going to draft something for us, but I wanted to see if there was anything you wanted to include.”

The trio on the couch was silent for a long moment. 

Graham spoke up. “We should make it clear that he isn’t a criminal, and he might be in danger.”

Milo sat up straighter. “Can the public help us? If they’re on the lookout for him, we can give a rough description and maybe they can help us find him.”

Adrian made a, “Hmm,” sound. “Maybe. It could also spook him.”

Milo deflated a bit, making Graham’s heart ache. 

Felix tucked his legs underneath him and leaned forward. “So we include a message to him. We just want to make sure he’s okay. We want to help him, we don’t want to force him to be part of our pack.”

“That,” Adrian said, “Isn’t a bad idea.”

“It might be better to do this over video, though,” Milo said. “Can the statement wait until you get home? Then we could all do it together.”

“I’ll run it by Melinda and get back to you guys,” Adrian said. “Okay, I’ve got to go. I love you guys.”

The three of them chorused, “Love you!”

The line went dead. They fell back into the cushions. Now to wait.

Noah’s feet hurt. Every little pebble felt like fire on his freezing skin. He hobbled hopelessly on the side of the quiet highway. Honestly, he barely even knew how he got here. There was still blood dripping sluggishly down his ankle. The wound hurt, but didn’t keep him from walking.

He was still coming down from the adrenaline high. His stomach was turning in knots, but he couldn’t tell if it was from anxiety or hitting his head. 

That pine smell was still stuck in his nose, blocking all other scents. The world around him felt muffled. 

His red satin pajama shorts that barely covered his ass were stained with dirt and grass. Luckily the pajamas weren’t an actual lingerie set, so the top covered him modestly enough. He was sure he was still a sight to behold on the side of the road like this. 

A couple of cars had slowed down to ogle at him. Headlights swept over him like searching eyes. He just tucked his hands under his arm pits and kept walking.He didn’t really have a plan. He’d never gotten this far before. 

When he was younger, he tried to try to escape all the time. All the neighbors knew he was a dramatic omega who needed to be taken back to his pack when he decided to run away from home. Those attempts had petered out over the years. 

Another car slowed. Noah kept his eyes on the concrete.

Then someone yelled at him with a thick Carolina accent. “Are you okay, hun?”

He looked up. There was a grey-haired woman leaning over her empty passenger seat to stare at him.

“What?” He asked.

“You don’t look too good. Do you need a ride, sweetheart?” 

Noah sniffed the air. All he was getting was that damned pine scent. He figured if she was an alpha, he’d probably be able to smell her. “Okay,” he said, and climbed into the passenger seat.

She didn’t exactly look like she was going to murder him. A car would get him further away from the pine-tree alpha, who was undoubtedly searching for Noah right now. 

He fumbled with the seatbelt, cold fingers not cooperating. Eventually the old lady shooed his hands away, reached over and buckled him in herself. 

“Thank you,” Noah whispered. 

The woman didn’t respond, focused on turning the heat on full blast. When she was done, she turned off her hazards and carefully pulled into traffic. 

“Where are you going, honey?”

Warm air rolled over him in soft waves, thawing him inch by inch. Noah flexed his fingers, which ached as some feeling came back to them. “Um. I don’t know. Just away from here.”

The lady eyed him, before turning to look back at the road. “There’s an omega shelter in town. I can call to see if they have any beds.”

Noah’s eyes began to water. There was a shelter just for omegas? That close, all these years? Noah really was the most useless omega there was, if he’d never been able to get himself even that far. 

But that wasn’t an option anymore. Pine-tree alpha would know to look at an omega shelter for him. And if it was just in town, they’d find him within hours.

He shook his head. “I can’t. Would you please just take me as far away as you’re willing to go?”

The woman hummed. “What about the hospital? It’s in the next town over.”

That was better than nothing. It would be inside form the cold at least. But…

“I don’t have any money,” Noah admitted. 

The lady glanced at him. “They have to treat you anyway. It looks like you could use it, too.”

Noah fidgeted with the hem of his silk shirt. “Okay.”

The drive to the hospital took thirty minutes. The old lady didn't make much conversation. She never offered her name, so Noah didn't either. She never mentioned having somewhere else to be, even though she was clearly going somewhere when she picked Noah up. 

She played some lowkey music on the radio that Noah didn’t recognize. Joe didn’t play much music around the house.

“Here we are,” the lady said, pulling up in front of the emergency room doors. 

Noah looked at the doors and the waiting room beyond them, suddenly unsure. “You’re sure they’ll let me in?”

The lady leveled him with a stern look. “You probably need stitches on your leg. Your head has a massive gash on it. They’ll want to get you checked out.”

He unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out of the car. Before he shut the door, he turned back to the woman. “Um. Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

Her face softened. “I know, hun. Just go get help, okay?”

He nodded and shut the door. The lady didn’t pull away until the automatic doors of the emergency room shut behind him. In front of him there was a desk with a tired looking beta clacking away at a keyboard. Without looking up, he asked, “Name?”

“Um. Noah.”

The man glanced up, then pushed himself up to look at Noah properly. “Hey, Noah.” His voice was soft, like he was speaking to a child. “What brings you here today?”

Noah’s eyes began to tear up again, and he wiped at them aggressively. “Sorry. Sorry. I, um, I hit my head. And cut my leg. I can’t pay.”

The beta shook his head. “That’s no problem. Are you feeling nauseous or dizzy at all?”

Noah nodded.

“Alrighty, we’ll get that checked out. What’s your pack name, Noah?”

Noah opened his mouth to say ‘Crawley’, then clamped it shut. He would surely be found if he used that name, whether it was by pine-tree alpha or whatever remained of the Crawleys. He tried to think of a suitable lie, but the beta saw right through him.

“I’ll put Doe, for now,” he said, typing it into the system. 

He printed out a sheet of labels with Noah’s name on them, then took a bracelet and stuck it around Noah’s wrist. “Okay, go sit over there and the triage nurse will call you over very soon.”

He looked around the room full of people, who were clearly eyeing his pajamas and shoelessness and general state of being. He found an empty chair in the corner, but Noah hadn’t even sat down yet before his name was called. He turned around, embarrassed, and walked to the curtained off section where a nurse stood. 

She looked him up and down, but her eyes landed on Noah’s forehead. “Hi, Noah. I’m Stella. Come take a seat. How’d you get that head wound?” 

“Fell out a window,” Noah said honestly.

Stella wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm and clipped a heart rate monitor to his finger. “Nausea?”

Noah nodded. 

She shined a penlight in each of his eyes and hummed. “Okay. Your pupils are a little sluggish, which is a warning sign we look out for. The doctor will want to see you as soon as possible.”

She ran through the rest of the triage and sent him back out to the waiting room. He tucked himself into the chair in the corner and leaned away from the person sitting next to him. People’s scents were starting to break through the persistent pine smell from the cop alpha. That and the bright lights and his upset stomach were starting to get to him. He closed his eyes and tried to subtly cover his nose. 

The chaos of the day had left him heavy limbed and sleepy. His thoughts drifted to Joe and the others, idly wondering if they were in jail already. That would be nice. 

Without meaning to, he drifted off into a light sleep, accented by the low voices around him and the occasional emergency room sound.

Adrian had barely gotten home thirty minutes ago. The first thing he did was hug each of his mates for a long time. Felix had clutched onto Adrian’s hoodie, and Milo had rubbed the top of his head under his alpha’s chin in a show of submission. Graham had pressed his cheek against Adrian’s and sighed against him, letting his alpha take the weight he’d been carrying all day. 

As soon as greetings were over, they had business to take care of. 

“Melinda sent me a script. Each of us has a part. We can use Milo’s camera set up—I’m thinking we do it on the couch in the living room. Thoughts?”

“Let’s do it on the side against the wall, so you can see all our pack photos,” Milo said. “I’ll get my stuff.”

The beta disappeared up the stairs. 

Adrian took in the state of his remaining two mates. Felix, with his rumpled clothes and haphazard hair, and Graham with a suspicious stain on his shirt. Adrian himself was not looking the best after a four hour flight. “We’re making first impressions in this video. I know it might feel vain, but we should look nice.”

“I'll change into a fresh shirt,” Felix said. “Maybe a vest.”

Adrian gave a half smile. “You want me to do your hair?”

Felix nodded. “Yeah, let me change first.”

The trio followed Milo upstairs, each disappearing into their own rooms. Typically, they slept in Adrian’s room with its family king size bed, but they each had their own space to decompress and call their own. 

Adrian went into his own room, not bothering to shut the door behind him. He stripped out of his hoodie, leaving on his nice jeans. He pulled on a cream t-shirt and a cream jacket that went well with it. In the bathroom, he checked his teeth and put some pomade in his golden hair. 

When he was confident that he looked presentable, he crossed the hall and knocked on Milo’s door. “Sweetheart, are you changing?”

The door swung open, revealing Milo in his floral boxer briefs. “I can’t decide what to wear.”

Adrian took a second to appreciate how attractive his beta was, with his toned stomach and soft hips. Milo snapped his fingers in front of Adrian's face, startling him. “What should I wear?”

“Something that expresses who you are,” Adrian said, focusing on Milo’s face. He’s already had his curly mess of hair tied back with a bandana.

Adrian wandered into the room. Milo had the room with the biggest walk-in closet, and Adrian could see that multiple outfits had already been discarded on the floor. 

“Will you pick something out?” Milo asked. “It’s too much right now.”

Adrian was touched that Milo trusted him with his wardrobe. “Yeah, baby, I’ll find something.”

Ten minutes later, Milo was dressed in a pastel patterned sweater and pale blue jeans.

The other two were waiting in the doorway as Milo stepped into his shoes. “Could you guys grab the camera and lights?” Milo asked.

They managed to get all the equipment downstairs.

Adrian texted them all the script, and Graham began reading it through to Milo.

Adrian sat on the couch and guided Felix to the floor between his feet. The beta got comfy, phone in hand as he read the script. Adrian picked up the brush.

“This is good,” Felix commented. “I think the fans are going to lose their minds, though.”

“Where are we posting this?” Milo asked.

“You and I are going to do a joint Instagram post, and we should put it on your TikTok too, so it sees the most people possible. Melinda’s already talking to a couple news outlets who will get a copy as well.” Adrian carefully brushed Felix’s hair back, so he could tie it in a pony tail.

When he was done, Felix used his phone as a mirror. “You’re the best, alpha.” He craned his neck up and Adrian leaned down to kiss him. 

Adrian guided Milo down next to him. Graham and Felix sat on either side of them.

“Ready?” Adrian asked.

“So ready,” said Graham.

“Let’s do this,” said Felix. 

Adrian leaned forward and pressed play.

The ER nurses had not been happy that Noah fell asleep. 

The ER doctor had not been happy that Noah was still nauseous when he woke up. He’d especially not been happy when Noah had leaned over the side of his brand new ER bed and puked on the doctor’s shoes. 

“Right,” the doctor said, holding his tablet by his head like lowering it would contaminate it. “That was our fault for not giving you a puke bag. How do you feel?”

“A little better,” Noah admitted. 

The doctor nodded. “We’ll get you a CT to rule out complications, but you’re looking at a moderate concussion. I want to admit you tonight for observation.”

“Okay,” Noah said softly. 

The doctor left and a nurse swooped in. She pressed a green puke bag into his hands and flicked off the bright overhead lights. The pulsing in Noah’s head immediately abated. 

Noah learned very quickly that hospitals were boring. He’d never owned a phone, but he imagined that having one now would make the whole process much more bearable. There were long breaks between when he got his CT and when the doctor came back to stitch up his leg, and when the nurses bandaged his head.

The doctor let him go to sleep after the CT was clear. He spent most of the night shivering under a thin blanket in his dark room, half asleep and half listening to the sounds of the ER. At one point he heard the nurses talking outside of his room, clearly thinking he was out.

“He didn’t even give his pack name,” the first nurse said.

“Poor baby. It's got to be some kind of domestic situation.”

“I’m honestly impressed he’s asleep. It’s so loud in here.”

They moved on. 

It wasn’t until the next morning that a bed became available upstairs. They loaded him into a wheelchair and brought him to a private room on a much quieter floor. A nurse greeted them, helping Noah into the new bed. Her badge bounced softly against her scrub top as she crossed the room.

She was older, with silver threaded through dark curls and reading glasses hanging from the collar of her shirt. She smelled faintly like coffee and hand sanitizer.

Noah trusted her about as much as he trusted anyone else in the building, which unfortunately wasn’t saying much.

She clucked when she saw his outfit. “They couldn’t find you anything better than that down there? My god.”

She unfolded a warm blanket and tucked it around him. “My name’s Mickey. We’re gonna get you some proper clothes. I’ll be right back with that and some breakfast.”

The room was an actual room, instead of a curtained section of floor. There was a TV in the corner. And a large window overlooking the town below.

The neuro floor was quieter than the emergency department had been.

Every sound stood out. Rubber soles squeaking against tile. Distant monitor alarms. The soft hiss of blood pressure cuffs.

The clothes Mickey brought back were a pair of grippy socks, sweatpants, and a t-shirt from what looked like a hospital fundraiser. “Now, don’t go telling everyone you got these, ‘cause we only have a limited supply. We got eggs and sausage for breakfast. Are you a vegetarian? Vegan?” 

He shook his head. 

“I’ll be right back with your food.”

He changed quickly.

She returned with a rolling tray table and a clam shell container of food. The smell of it turned Noah’s stomach. He half smiled at her as he opened the container. “Um, the TV. Can I watch it?”

“You’ve got a concussion, omega, that means no screens.”

But sitting around doing nothing all day was going to be the death of him. “What if I closed my eyes and just listened. I’m really bored.”

Mickey eyed him suspiciously. “Doctor Hernandez is going to be real mad if she comes in here and you’re watching TV. You promise to keep your eyes closed?”

Noah nodded earnestly. 

“Mmm, okay, hun. What channel do you want?” She picked up a remote. 

Noah turned on his side so he was facing away from the TV. “I don’t really care. Maybe the news.”

A minute later some random news channel was playing softly, reporting on some diplomatic mission to the Middle East. 

Noah listened to it for most of the morning. What he was learning was that the state of the country was rather dismal at the moment. Noah had never paid much attention to politics or current events—he always had more immediate concerns to worry about—so a lot of what the news anchors said went over his head. 

He dozed for a little while, and Mickey came in to check on him and take vitals a couple times. 

It was nearing lunch time when his attention snapped back to the TV.

“Developing today out of Lenora, South Carolina—authorities are continuing the search for the omega believed to be fated to celebrity Adrian Thorne and his pack after a dramatic escape during a police raid Monday afternoon.

“According to investigators, the omega was located during a human trafficking operation conducted by local and federal authorities at a private residence connected to an ongoing investigation. Sources say Graham Thorne, Adrian Thorne’s alpha mate and a deputy on scene, discovered the omega during the raid before the individual fled the property by jumping from a second-story window.

“Officials have not yet released the omega’s identity, age, or current condition, though law enforcement says he may be injured and is considered vulnerable. The case has drawn significant public attention due to Thorne’s celebrity status and the rare circumstances surrounding the flight of an omega from a fated alpha.

“Police are urging anyone with information to contact authorities immediately.”

Noah jerked his head around to look at the TV, uncaring of Dr. Hernandez's rules. Adrian Thorne? He must have misheard that. 

Yet, there on the screen was a picture of golden haired, lightly bearded Adrian Thorne, smiling for a headshot without a care in the world.

“Holy shit,” Noah whispered, his chest tightening with overwhelm.

The news anchor continued talking. “The Thorne pack released a video statement late Monday night addressing the ongoing search and sharing new details about the case, including a direct message to the omega believed to be their fated packmate.

“In the emotional statement, the pack expressed concern for the omega’s safety and urged him to seek medical attention or contact authorities, emphasizing that he is not in trouble and will not be forced to do anything against his will.

“We’ll play a portion of that statement for you now.”

Noah was sitting bolt upright in bed now, staring at the TV. On the screen were four people, sitting pressed up against each other on a couch. They touched each other with an ease Noah had only ever seen in dreams. In the middle was Adrian Thorne, taller and wider than the others. 

Even isolated in the house, even hidden away upstairs, Noah had seen magazines sometimes. The Crawleys liked celebrity gossip. Adrian Thorne smiling on red carpets. Adrian Thorne photographed leaving restaurants. Adrian Thorne voted sexiest actor alive.

To Adrian’s right sat someone delicate-looking with coiled dark blonde hair pulled into a bandana. Pretty enough to make Noah stare for a second too long. A couple of gold rings glittered across slender fingers resting around Adrian’s arm.

His face was carefully neutral, and he looked a little to the side of the camera.

On Adrian’s other side sat the man in a button down and tweed vest.

His hair was pulled back into a pony tail. There were tattoos disappearing beneath his rolled sleeves. He leaned back into the couch, away from the camera. 

On the other side of the pretty one was the cop. Noah could tell by the haircut, by the ridged set of his shoulders. That had to be the pine tree alpha whose scent had been bothering him all night.

His throat tightened.

“If you’re watching this,” the cop said, staring directly into the camera, “you are not in trouble.”

Noah scoff-laughed under his breath before he could stop himself. The sound came out ugly.

Adrian cupped his hand around the pretty one's knee and said, “We just want to make sure you're okay. We don't want to force you into anything. Of course, if you want it, you will always have a place with us.”

The pretty one swallowed and straightened his shoulders. “If you need medical attention, food, shelter, or any kind of assistance, there are victim advocacy services available. You don’t have to come to us directly to get help.”

The man with the ponytail leaned forward. “And for the public,” he added, “please don’t approach him if you think you see him. Don’t film him, don’t follow him, and don’t corner him. Contact authorities and let trained people handle it.”

“You promised to keep your eyes closed,” Mickey scolded from the doorway, causing Noah to jump a foot in the air.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, looking away from the TV as it moved on to other news.

“That was the video Adrian Thorne put out about his omega,” Mickey said, like it was hot gossip. “Can you believe that story? Something out of one of my romance novels. And it's happening here in little old Lenora! Did you see that gorgeous beta of his? His name is Milo, he’s blind. I follow him on Tiktok.”

“Crazy,” Noah said, settling on his side facing away from the TV. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and he could see the number ticking up on the monitor. “Can we change the channel?” 

The nurse changed the TV to some sitcom and fussed over him for a few minutes, then stated that she'd be back soon with his lunch.

Noah lay curled on his side in the hospital bed, staring at the pale green wall across from him while afternoon sunlight filtered weakly through the blinds. Machines hummed softly around him. Somewhere down the hall, someone laughed too loudly before being shushed by a nurse.

Noah kept thinking about the video.

About the nice couch. About the way they’d all been touching each other. The pretty one holding onto Adrian’s arm. Adrian rubbing circles against his knee while they talked. The cop leaning close enough that their shoulders pressed together naturally.

In the Crawley house, touch always meant something. It was control or punishment or ownership. Even gentle touch usually came with strings attached.

But those people on the screen looked comfortable with each other.

The thought made his chest ache strangely.

He picked at his lunch, but didn’t have the heart to actually eat much.

Later in the day a knock sounded lightly against the open doorframe.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.”

Mickey walked in carrying a small flashlight and a paper cup of pills. 

“How’s the headache?” she asked.

“Okay.”

“That sounds suspiciously unconvincing.”

Noah shrugged one shoulder.

Mickey didn’t push.

She checked the monitor clipped to his finger first before moving closer to the bed. “Need you to look at me for a sec.”

Noah obeyed automatically.

The flashlight clicked on. He winced as she swept it across his eyes.

“Pupils look good.” She capped the light again. “You know where you are?”

“The hospital.”

“Good. What day is it?”

Noah hesitated.

“…Tuesday?”

“Sure.” Mickey scribbled something on her chart. “Any dizziness?”

“A little.”

“Nausea?”

Noah nodded reluctantly.

Mickey hummed softly. “Expected with the concussion. Your brain’s been through a lot.”

After she left, the room settled back into silence.

Noah rolled onto his back carefully, staring up at the ceiling tiles.

Fated mates.

The words twisted strangely in his stomach.

His mother used to talk about it sometimes when she thought the Crawleys couldn’t hear. She used to tell Noah that bonds were supposed to feel safe. Like coming home. That somewhere out there were people who would protect you because they loved you instead of because they owned you.

Noah had stopped believing her around age seven.

Still…

The pretty one had almost cried talking about him.

The pine-tree alpha had looked genuinely worried.

Adrian Thorne himself had sat there on national television telling Noah they wouldn't force anything on him.

Part of Noah wanted to believe it so badly it made him feel sick.

A sharp wave of nausea hit him suddenly.

Noah lurched upright with a startled sound, barely managing to grab the basin from the bedside table before he threw up.

Pain exploded behind his eyes instantly.

“Oh, sweetheart—”

Mickey was suddenly there, one hand pulling his hair back while the other steadied the basin.

The kindness of it made panic claw briefly up Noah’s throat.

“You’re okay,” she said quietly. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

His whole body trembled afterward.

Mickey handed him a damp washcloth once he was done and adjusted the bed upright a little more.

Noah wiped his mouth shakily.

“You still with me enough for another neuro check?”

He nodded weakly.

The flashlight again. Questions again.

Mickey was frowning slightly but didn’t seem alarmed. “I’ll let the doctor know you got sick again, alright?”

By the time evening settled outside the hospital windows, Noah had made up his mind completely. 

As soon as he was discharged, he was leaving this town.

The evening and night dragged. The doctor said he could be released tomorrow morning if he didn’t puke again.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Mickey came to do a check on him. As she flashed the light in his eyes, she smiled and said, “Something exciting is happening today.”

“What’s happening?” Noah asked indulgently. 

“You remember that video on the news yesterday? The one with Adrian and Milo Thorne?”

Noah’s stomach twisted. Not only did he remember it, but it was seared on the inside of his eyelids, haunting him whenever he closed his eyes. He nodded. 

“Well apparently Adrian is walking around and scenting all the hospitals in the area to see if their fated mate is in one of them! They’re coming here this morning! Isn’t that so cool? We might meet Adrian Thorne!”

Noah’s blood had turned to ice. His fingers felt numb like they had in the cold. He barely answered the questions Mickey asked next. Before she left, he snagged her sleeve.

“The doctor said I can leave today. How do I make that go faster?”

Mickey turned to him, frowning. “Well, we don’t want to rush anything. That doctor needs to check in on you first, then we can get the discharge process rolling.”

“How long will that take?” Noah asked, feeling like he’d swallowed a particularly leggy insect. 

“Probably a couple more hours,” Mickey said. 

“I need to leave before then.”

Mickey put her hands on her hips. “You want to leave against medical advice?”

Noah nodded, urgency taking over. “Yes, if that’s what I have to do to leave sooner.”

“Noah, you still have a nasty concussion. I don't recommend—”

“Can you please go get the paperwork?”

Mickey snapped her mouth shut. She nodded once, turned on her heel, and left the room. 

Noah was too tense to relax while he waited. He picked at the cheap print on his shirt, felt the way the grips on his socks dragged as he ran them over the bed sheets. The minutes slipped into an hour, and Noah found himself gripping and releasing the blanket with white-knuckle fingers. Did paperwork usually take this long? It was a hospital, people were busy, some wait was to be expected.

Carefully, he lowered his feet to the floor and padded into the hallway. If he could go find someone—

An intense scent caught his nose. The smell of simple herbs, maybe rosemary and thyme, settled over him. He closed his eyes and took a long inhale. They were fresh, like they’d just been cut from the garden, like the ones his mom used to chop and add to dinner.

For a long moment he just sat and took in the scent. It took an embarrassingly long time for his brain to catch up and launch him down the hallway at a run. 

He had to find an emergency exit. The alpha—his second fated alpha—would be using the elevators. He didn’t even know what floor he was on. He turned a corner and bumped into a nurse he didn’t recognize. 

“Woah, bud, are you okay?” the nurse asked, concern on his face while he caught Noah’s elbows. “Need help finding something?”

Noah didn’t answer. He jerked out of the nurse’s hands and made for the glowing red ‘EXIT’ sign at the end of the hall.

“Hey, wait!” 

The smell was fainter in the stairway. Noah couldn’t be sure if the swaying in his head was due to the alpha’s scent or the concussion. 

He was on the fourth floor. He ran down the stairs, catching himself twice on the railing when he tripped over his too big socks. The further down he went, the less scent permeated the air. He heaved in lungfuls of fresh air as he approached the metal exit at the bottom.

The door was propped open by a rock. Cigarette smoke drifted through, doing nothing to deter Noah as he swung the door open—

And smacked right into the back of the smoker. 

The man whirled around and caught Noah before he could fall backwards. In doing so, he dropped his half-finished cigarette on the ground, which he quickly stomped out. “Hey, there,” he said, pulling Noah upright. “Sorry about that. You okay?”

Noah stared at the man’s fine leather boots, perfect for the weather. He was aware of dampness from the pavement seeping through his socks, little drops of water falling on his hair and nose. He carefully carried his line of sight upwards. The man had dark blue jeans, a white button up with the sleeves rolled up. Tattoos wrapped around each arm, ending at the wrists. 

Noah caught a faint, distinctly beta scent of tobacco and orange hiding under the cigarette haze before he saw the face. The smell muddled his brain almost as much as the alphas’ had. 

“Oh,” the beta said, letting go of Noah’s shoulders so suddenly that Noah almost fell again.

Noah looked into the face of the pony-tail beta from the TV screen, equal parts terrified and enraptured.

“You’re running,” the beta said.

Not a question.

“That’s okay,” he said next, his face twisting, like it really wasn’t okay. “Just…What’s your name?”

“Noah.” He didn’t even mean to answer the question, it just came out.

“Noah,” the beta breathed, closing his eyes for a second like he was tasting a particularly decadent food. “I’m Felix.”

Noah’s breath began coming quicker. He crouched down, holding his now pounding head in his hands. “No, no, no—”

“Woah, love,” the beta took two steps back and crouched down to Noah’s level. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

“Go away!” Noah shouted, ducking his head even further.

This beta might be harmless, but there was an alpha waiting for him in that hospital who would make his life hell. 

“I—” Felix paused for a second, clearly unsure. “I can’t do that while you’re in this state. Can I help you back to your hospital room?”

Noah let out a guttural scream. 

The door opened again. “Noah! There you are. Sir, could you give us some space, please?” 

Felix backed up, but said, “He’s my mate. Is there anything I can do to help?” 

The nurse, Mickey, shook her head. “Not right now. Go get your alpha, I’ll meet you in the neuro waiting room in twenty.”

Arms lifted Noah by his elbows. He kept his head clutched in his hands, fingers tearing at his hair. They guided him inside, up the stairs, back into his uncomfortable hospital bed. They replaced his wet socks with a fresh pair and tucked him under a heated blanket. 

Then they left him to sit in his tipsy topsy mind, whirling with images of hugs and cuddles and bites, and delicate hands wrapped around huge biceps. 

He could still smell the alpha. Part of his brain realized the alpha must be Adrian Thorne, since it wasn’t the same alpha as at the Crawley house. The smell was stronger now than it had been before he tried to run. The alpha must be close. 

Noah's body cried out for him to find his alpha. To collapse into his arms and let him solve all his problems. The longer he was exposed to the scent, the harder it was to resist. 

They waited longer than twenty minutes. In fact, Milo and Graham had almost made the drive to the hospital from home by the time a nurse opened the door to the waiting room.

Adrian abruptly turned his attention to the nurse, and Felix pushed to his feet to stand next to him.

“What can you tell us?” Adrian said, voice strained. He was trying to stay respectful, but all he wanted to do was run through that door and find the omega whose spring scent filled the whole floor.

“I want to make it clear that if it were up to me, both of you would be escorted out by security,” the nurse started, looking at them each in turn, but letting her stony glare linger on Adrian. “I don't care if you're God himself, that omega made it clear he wants nothing to do with you.”

Adrian nodded and waited for the ‘but’.

“But your scent triggered a heat.”

Adrian's stomach twisted. This isn't what he wanted for their little omega—Noah, Felix had said—but there was hardly a way around it. If an alpha and omega's biology is compatible enough, a heat is inevitably triggered. They were lucky Graham didn't trigger one at the raid.

“So best practice is to bring in the inciting alpha,” Felix said beside Adrian. 

“He just needs your presence, touch, scent. We'll be watching you, and if you try anything untoward, you'll be out of here faster than you can blink,” the nurse threatened. 

She eyed them. “He has a concussion. Be gentle with his head. Are both of you coming back?”

“The rest of our pack will be here shortly.” There was a thread of anxiety in Adrian's voice as he worried that the stern nurse wouldn't let the rest of the pack back.

Their omega didn't physically need anyone but the alphas, but they were all compatible with him. He would benefit from the betas’ presence too, which would ease the transition and center both the alphas and Noah.

“I'll have security bring them up,” the nurse said.

Both Adrian and Felix let out small breaths. 

“Follow me.”

They followed the nurse onto what looked like a typical hospital floor. The charge nurse watched them enter warily. Her eyes widened a fraction when they landed on Adrian, then schooled into clean professionalism. 

Adrian could smell when they neared Noah's room. His scent was strong, like someone had sprayed perfume in Adrian's face, but not overwhelming or too heavy. It was intoxicating.

“Be careful of his head,” the nurse restated, reaching for the doorhandle.

It took all of Adrian's will power not to shove her out of the way.

The nurse opened the door. As soon as was appropriate, Adrian pushed past her into the darkened room. There was a bundle of white blankets on the bed that jerked forward, as reactive to Adrian as he was to the omega.

Adrian growled desperately, surging towards the bedside. 

He reached out, wrapping his arms around Noah as the omega pressed against Adrian's stomach. 

“Alpha,” Noah slurred. 

Adrian was caught by Noah's pale blonde hair. It sat in a cloud on top of his head, mussed up by the blankets. Adrian ran a hand over it, finding it silky soft.

“Oh, omega,” Adrian said. His instincts were yelling at him to smother this omega in his scent, to…do much more overt things than were appropriate, which he would never do without consent. Besides, the nurse was still glaring at him from the doorway.

Noah whined and pulled on Adrian's jacket sleeves. Adrian complied, sliding off his shoes and climbing into the hospital bed with the omega. Noah arranged himself from there, swinging a leg over Adrian's hips to straddle him and burrowing his nose in Adrian's neck. Noah folded against him with the desperate gravity of something finally finding where it belonged. 

Adrian leaned back against the pillows, hands hovering over Noah's hips, but not touching. The nurse's glare intensified, so he wrapped one arm around Noah's back and the other his head, holding him tightly. 

Noah whined in the back of his throat, pressed his hips down. Adrian tilted his head back and closed his eyes, forcing himself not to react. “Felix,” he ground out.

“Right here,” Felix said, and sure enough he was standing at Adrian's shoulder, one hand petting through the omega's hair, the other sliding behind Adrian's neck and squeezing.

“You're doing so good,” Felix said to one or both of them.

Noah shot out a hand and entangled itself in Felix's shirt, pulling him closer. 

Felix leaned his head forward until it was resting against Adrian's. 

Adrian tilted his head to press a soft kiss to Felix's lips, ever grateful for his beta's grounding presence.

A blurry amount of time passed before the door opened again. Adrian lifted his head up to see Milo and Graham shuffle past a security guard. He could see the self-control crumbling on his fellow alpha, but Graham carefully guided Milo over to Felix's side before kicking off his shoes and climbing on the end of the bed.

Noah whined, releasing on hand from Adrian's shirt to reach back for Graham.

Graham shifted closer, so the omega was pressed between the broad chested alphas.

Noah was breathing rapidly, but the rise and the fall of his chest slowed as he tipped his head back to rest on Graham's shoulder, throat stretched in front of Adrian.

Adrian ran a couple fingers up and down the exposed flesh, feeling the bumps and ridges of the omega's esophagus.

Noah moaned.

“Shh,” Adrian hushed, lowering his hand to Noah's shoulder and collar bone, messaging the tense muscles there.

The omega was out of it. Adrian would be surprised if he even remembered this later. He'd never taken an omega into his pack before, but he's heard the first twelve hours or so can be like this, with the omega adjusting to the pheromones of the pack. Doubly so when a heat is triggered.

“It's okay, you're okay,” Adrian whispered, hoping his soft voice would soothe Noah.

A new nurse, not their babysitter, stepped into the room, vial in hand. 

Graham actually growled at the man, tightening his hold on Noah and causing the nurse to take a step back.

“Graham,” Adrian scolded. He nodded for the nurse to step forward. “What is that?”

“Heat suppressant,” the nurse said. “It'll cut the heat down from three to four days to one.”

Though it went against every instinct to protect he had, Adrian leaned back and pushed Graham back a bit too, making room for the nurse to administer the shot.

Noah didn't flinch at the needle, but the second it was pulled away he was whining for contact from the alphas again.

“Felix, Milo,” Adrian said, not wanting to let go of his omega, but willing his betas closer anyway. 

The betas closed in on either side. First, Milo tilted his head against Adrian's shoulder, then reached a tentative hand out to feel for Noah. When he'd found his shoulder, he leaned against it, purring softly. His light beta scent was a balm over the intensity of the alphas and omega. 

Noah let out a soft sound and leaned sideways against Milo, eyes closed.

Adrian glanced up when the nurse who was babysitting them cleared her throat. “We have pack rooms available, with proper nests. The omega health doctor would like to move this party into one to ride out the rest of this heat.”

Adrian was loath to move from his current position with his arms around Noah and surrounded by his pack, but a nest would mean they could all curl up properly together.

“That would be wonderful,” he said to the nurse.

The process of untangling themselves, putting on shoes, and Adrian picking up Noah like a baby was a hurried mess of limbs and hospital blankets. As soon as they’d gathered themselves, they followed the nurse into another unit, where they were guided to a private room with a large raised bed with railings on three sides, perfect to form a nest with pillows and blankets. Unfortunately, the only nesting material available was white, chemical clean pillows, and thin, worn blankets. 

Adrian carefully put Noah down in the middle of the nest, and began the process of stripping his outer layers off. His pack followed his lead, removing jackets and hoodies to provide a personal touch to their nesting materials.

Noah whined at the loss of contact, but his instincts took over when he was presented with soft items that smelled like his fated pack. He intertwined them with the hospital materials, building up the sides of the nest expertly. He added the pack’s clothes to his own hospital sheets from the other room like he was physically weaving himself into the pack. When it looked like the omega was about done, he turned to Adrian and tugged on his shirt. 

“What, omega?” Adrian asked softly, gently pulling Noah’s hand away.

Noah brushed him off and caught Adrian’s sleeve with his fingers and pulled. 

Graham belly laughed. “He wants your shirt for the nest. Better give it to him, alpha.”

Adrian felt his cheeks redden. Being shirtless in the hospital would be awkward, but he’d do anything to satisfy his omega right now. He tugged the shirt over his head and handed it over. 

When Noah was satisfied with the Nest, he made it clear by grabbing Adrian’s bare arm and pulling with all his might—which wasn’t a lot—until the alpha climbed into the nest with him. The rest of the pack followed.

Noah curled up next to Adrian, carefully laying his head on his bicep. Adrian peered down at the omega as he settled, eyes closed. Milo lay down on the omega’s other side, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing flush against him. Noah’s lips parted to let out a content little sigh. 

Adrian reached down and brushed back a lock of pale hair that had fallen into an equally pale face. Noah’s eyes fluttered open, lost for a moment, then locking onto Adrian’s face. “Hi,” Noah said softly. “I’m Noah.” 

“Hi, Noah. I’m Adrian. Welcome to the Thorne pack.”

When Noah came around from his heat, the first thing he felt wasn’t fear. It was, however, unadulterated embarrassment at throwing himself at four strangers like some whore for the past twenty-four hours. 

He made a sound of disgust—at himself, not the demi-god he was laying on, of course—and pushed himself upright.

Said demi-god—shirtless demi-god, and Noah didn’t even want to think about how that had happened—cracked his eyes open and looked up at Noah. “Feeling better?” He asked, voice rich like dark hot chocolate in front of the fire that was his auburn eyes. 

For a moment, Noah was dumbstruck by just how hot this alpha was. This was who he’d been cuddling up to? Holy hell. 

Adrian’s forehead creased with concern when Noah didn’t immediately answer. He pushed himself up right, blankets slipping further down his torso. “Noah?”

“Oh my God.” Noah looked to the ceiling to gather himself. “Are you always like this?”

“Always like what?” Adrian asked, looking taken aback. 

The beta who had been smoking the cigarette was still laying with his face pressed into the pretty beta’s hair. Without opening his eyes he said, “Yes, and he has no idea.”

Right. “What’s your name?” Noah asked. He’d cuddled with cigarette beta a fair amount as they switched around positions, but they were never introduced. 

The beta opened his eyes finally and pushed into a seated position. He held out a hand. “I’m Felix.”

“Noah.” He shook the hand lightly. He pointed to the other alpha and beta, still asleep, and raised an eyebrow. 

“This is Milo,” Adrian said, laying a hand on the sleeping beta’s shoulder. Then pointing to the other side of the nest, “That’s Graham.”

Noah took in this pack of four men from where he sat tangled up in the blankets. They didn’t necessarily feel like strangers, after snuggling with them for a full rotation of the sun. He knew Milo got overheated easily, so he preferred to sleep on top of the blankets instead of underneath. He knew Graham was very protective and would growl at every nurse who plied them with food and water. He knew Felix was almost as clingy as an in-heat omega when he was sleepy. He knew Adrian could block out the whole world with his arms and a few whispered words. 

“Do you need some water?” Adrian asked, leaning over to grab a cup from a nearby table.

Noah nodded and took the cup. He sipped the lukewarm water as an excuse not to talk anymore. 

As soon as it was clear the heat was over, the doctors were ready to start the discharge process. It brought up an awkward situation when one of the nurses was removing Noah’s IV and said, “So I assume you’ll be going home with your pack.”

There was a beat of awkward silence. The pack was spread around the room. Adrian in a chair in the corner—shirt on. The two betas still in the nest, flanking Noah. The three of them were propped up against the back wall of the nest, curled together. Graham had stepped out to get everyone coffee.

Noah froze, unsure of what to say. They hadn’t discussed it, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to go home with them. Even if they seemed nice. Nice people didn’t always stay nice. Joe was nice sometimes. Some of Noah’s clients were nice, at the start.

“Noah,” Milo said, voice inviting.

Noah trilled softly. 

The beta reached out for Noah’s hand and tangled it in his own. “Please come with us. We want to keep you safe.”

Noah hid his face in the beta’s shoulder. He was overwhelmed with the feeling of being wanted. “I don’t know if I can.”

Adrian stood up. “We will not force you to do anything. If you want, we can arrange for the omega shelter to come pick you up from the hospital.” 

Even though the alpha sounded genuine, there was a strain to his voice that betrayed how much he did not like that option.

Noah needed to know what their intentions were with him before he made his decision. He needed to know if he was walking right back into a den like the Crawleys’. He opened his mouth to ask, but the words got caught in his throat. He couldn’t make himself say them. 

Felix ran a hand up and down his back. “How about this? You can try it out for a day, and if you don’t like it, you can go to the shelter.”

There were too many logistics in there that didn’t work out. How would Noah contact the shelter without the pack knowing? If the pack wanted him to stay, what was stopping them from simply locking him in a room, or threatening him with bodily harm? He wasn’t exactly strong, both the alphas could significantly hurt him if they wanted.

Milo’s hand came to cup the back of Noah’s neck. Noah whined lowly, not at the contact but how it made his heart feel. Milo seemed to understand, squeezing softly. 

Noah’s body softened, a pleasantly tingling feeling starting up in his fingers and toes. The Crawley’s often scruffed him, but it never felt as nice, safe, as this. 

“You want to say something,” Milo said, mouth next to Noah’s ear. “We keep talking and not listening. What do you want to say?”

What did Noah want to say? ‘Will you sell me for sex if I go home with you?’ That was the gist of it anyway. “What happens if I go with you?” he whispered.

Milo massaged his neck, and the tingly sensation spread. “Well, we go home. And we give you a tour. We’ll have to pick you up some necessities, like clothes and a phone. You’ll get your own bedroom, if you want. It’s set up as a guest room right now, but we can redo it any way you like. None of us will go in there without your permission.”

As the beta talked, the images flitted through Noah’s head. His own space. A phone. He could surely call the shelter if he had a phone. 

“And then you could do whatever you wanted. We all have jobs, so you wouldn’t have to work if you didn’t want to. But we’d at least make sure you have a routine to follow. I work from home most of the time, so I’ll be there—”

“Yes,” Noah said, “Yes, I’ll go with you.”

The beta straightened. “You’re sure?”

Noah nodded, finally looking up. Felix and Adrian were looking at him with wide eyes. Milo was smiling broadly. 

“You all smell happy,” Graham said from the doorway, holding a coffee carrier in one hand, and a lone cup in the other. “What did I miss?”

“Noah’s coming home with us,” Felix said, leaning against the omega in question. 

Graham’s attention swung to the omega. Noah curled his shoulders and smiled shyly under the alpha’s attention. 

“I’m glad,” Graham said, catching and holding Noah’s eye. His gaze was so intense. “I can’t wait to show you your new home.”

“Thank you,” Noah said, breaking this eye contact and looking at his hands. There was still dirt under his nails. “Thank you.”

He didn’t think this would be so bad, actually.