Chapter Fifteen

Kian

I wake up to warm sunlight pouring through thin curtains and warming my face. I'm cuddling a pillow to my chest. I slowly let go as I sit up and try to make sense of where I am. My head slams against my skull as I do so and I slowly raise my hand to rub my temples.

The room isn't as big as the room I stay in at the packhouse. I'm in a log cabin it seems and when I take a deep breath, a familiar rich woody smell settles itself around me. As I continue looking around the bedroom, I start to remember what happened.

I cried in Bridger's arms...

Heat crawls up my neck and to my face as I recall last night. I texted Bridger and we met up, he took me here to his home, and then I let him hold me while I cried. His warm words resurface in my brain and I remember carefully wrapping my own arms around his muscular body. I remember feeling his own heart speed up a bit before he relaxed just like I did when he hugged me.

I hugged a beta...

I let a beta hold me...

Am I doing just as Peyton expected and running into the arms of a high-ranking member just because my stupid omega brain wants me to? Speaking of, my head feels as though it's about to crack open. Probably from all my foolish crying last night. How can I cry when I'm not even the one who was taken back to our pack? How can I cry for Peyton when I did nothing to help him yet he did so much to help us?

Just as I'm about to get up, Bridger appears at the doorway of his room.

"Good morning," he says with a lopsided smile, "I got up early because my body doesn't think I need sleep. I made breakfast if you're hungry–"

"I'm sorry," I say before he can even finish talking, "for everything last night. I-I'm really sorry and... I-I'm embarrassed."

He widens his eyes as he pushes away from the wall of the doorway and walks further into his room. I don't want him to come close to me. I don't want whatever happened to me last night to wash over my brain so that I'm falling into his arms again.

"It's okay, really," he reassures, "I enjoyed the company in all honesty. And that hug...thank you, I don't know if I thanked you last night. It was really nice, thank you."

I feel my ears burning slightly as I stare at my hands. I don't know what to say. Should I tell him his hug was great too...or nice? But I'm not even sure how I can put it into words without sounding weird. Being held by him is far different than being held by Peyton. Peyton doesn't like being touched and his hugs were always kind of stiff. But Bridger's...his was strong yet gentle and I could feel his muscular build as he held me tightly against him. His deep and rich scent of wood made me feel homey in his arms and when I finally calmed down last night, his scent made me imagine sitting by a fire with a warm cup of hot chocolate, wrapped in a blanket with his scent floating everywhere. His hug was like melting in hot chocolate, like when the marshmallows disappear.

It reminds me of when Peyton, Jenna, and I snuck out of the packhouse and drank stolen hot chocolate with marshmallows. The marshmallows kept melting and I imagined what it would be like to just melt away like that.

That's what his hug was like.

I can't possibly say those things to him but I don't know if I can say his hug was nice because that word just isn't right. It felt wrong and too little.

Goddess, maybe I am doing what Peyton said and running into his arms because he's the first man to show me real kindness. Is that wrong?

"Anyway, I made breakfast," Bridger clears his throat and moves towards the doorway again.

I snap my head up to look at him, realizing I must have drifted off into my thoughts. "S-Sorry um...you're welcome. The hug was very appreciated too."

He gives me a big smile and I can't help but offer a smaller one to him. I sit in his bed a little longer, letting my racing thoughts tire themselves out before settling into the back of my aching brain. I finally decide to get up very slowly to not cause my head any more damage.

As I stand, I notice my socks on the ground and I quickly put them on. I tend to kick them off when I'm asleep, it's like my body hates the feeling of socks but I always forget to take them off before I sleep. As I'm putting them on my feet, I look up and see a picture of a woman on Bridger's desk. I think she must be Bridger's mother who he mentioned had passed last night. In the picture, she's smiling and posing. Her arms shape out her big pregnant belly and her hands barely meet at the bottom. Her shoulders are hunched up near her face which she holds downwards a bit as if she's shy. She has short, wavy black hair that's cropped by her chin and looks to be blowing in the wind. She's very pretty and looks really young. I wonder if she's pregnant with Bridger in this photo. Bridger never mentioned having any siblings.

"That's my mom."

I jump and turn around to see Bridger once again standing in the doorway. He must have finished cooking and got impatient with me and came to check on me.

"Sorry," I say as I move away from his nightstand. "I-I was coming but...I got distracted."

He smiles. "It's okay, I get distracted when I look at my mom too. My dad let me take a bunch of pictures of her when I moved out. He has so many."

"She's very pretty," I say, "I think you look like her."

"Yeah, my dad was a brunette with blue eyes – he's a grey-headed man now, losing his mate made him age pretty fast," he says as he opens his closet that I didn't notice. It was hidden behind a thick coat.

"I heard some people become rogue if they lose their mate," I say before wondering if that was inappropriate, "s-sorry if that–"

"No, it's okay, it's a valid concern. My dad is fine, he's moved on now. He dedicated his whole life to training me to be a beta, now he's retired and in Asia somewhere," he scoffs playfully and rolls his eyes. "Anyway, foods getting cold."

I follow him out of his room and down the short hallway towards the living room. His cabin is very warm and the homeliness makes me feel warm and soft inside. It's well-lived with the couch in the living fraying at the edges and the old carpet with a stain underneath a leg of the table. There's a big, thick folded quilt on the couch that looks beyond soft and warm.

The kitchen is no different. It's very simple with a small three-seated table against the wall. The only modern appliance in here is his oven but it's a dark gray and black and goes well with the wood. I look over at the table and smile a little at two plates filled with food resting at two seats. There's a small vase closer to the wall with a single flower in it.

"I...I like your home," I say as I watch him sit down in the chair in the middle. I wait for him to tell me to sit down but he just stares at me for a long moment before realizing that I'm waiting. He gestures for me to sit to the right of him where the other plate is.

"Thank you, my dad and I built it together when I turned sixteen."

'Wow...he built this himself!' I think as I take another look around to appreciate the little home even more. He certainly doesn't look like a man who would want such a home, but the more I get to know him, the more this place suits him. It's warm and cozy, he's warm cozy– I shake my head, I shouldn't think like that.

I look down at my plate: scrambled eggs, bacon strips, and bits of sausage stacked in the middle of the tortilla. There's a bottle of Tabsco next to the plate and another of Ketchup.

I watch him eat first. He adds some of the Tabasco sauce onto his food before rolling the food up in the tortilla. He sees me watching him and I quickly look down to mine.

"Have you ever had a breakfast burrito?" he asks and I shake my head.

"I...I um, well, I never really paid attention to what I ate," I move my hair out of my face before quietly adding, "I was always too hungry to care."

"How often did they feed you?"

I shrug. "It just depended on what they had left...or if they wanted to leave anything."

At Jason's house, I'd cook only him and his brother food. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Leon used to ask for more under the excuse that he needed more energy for his training and when I began cooking him more, I noticed I received more food as leftovers. I had been thankful for him sneaking food to me under Jason's nose until Jason realized what I was doing and beat me more for it. Leon never told him it was his fault. Leon stopped asking for more after that and I barely ever got anything as leftovers. Somedays I didn't get anything because Jason would throw away his and Leon's food. He'd make me watch as he did it, feeding it to the animals sometimes and reminding me that he'd rather I die because the animals actually contributed to society.

The packhouse was much worse because we were expected to share the scraps among several omegas. Sometimes they'd line us up at the table and... I shake my head. 'No, no, I can't think about it'.

"Here, I'll show you then," he moves his chair closer to mine. "I always eat breakfast burritos because they're easy and I'm lazy. I won't add any hot sauce to yours just in case you can't stomach it. So you fold the top and bottom parts first..."

I do as told before he tells me to wrap the side flap completely around the food. He then tells me to stuff that side inward and roll the burrito onto the other side. There, the food is compacted inside and it won't fall out. I take a small bite of it before looking up at him. He's looking at me as I chew and I feel my face heat up as I look down and swallow.

"How is it?" he asks, "good I hope because if not, I've just been delusional my whole life."

I chuckle at that as I shake my head. "It's really good, thank you."

He smiles at that before sitting back in his own chair and taking a big bite from his. As I eat more, I notice his hand resting on the box he took from his closet. I don't ask about it because I know that if he wants to show me, he will. I focus on eating my huge breakfast burrito instead. The more I stay in this pack, the more unbelievable it is to remember the pain I went through in my old pack. I've slept on soft, comfy beds here; I've eaten more than I could ever remember there; this handsome beta is being beyond kind to me; and I haven't even had one person talk to me in a nasty way. Is this luxury?

But what about Peyton? I feel my stomach flip as I instantly fill with guilt. I suddenly feel sick from eating the big burrito.

"You're thinking about Peyton?" Bridger asks.

I nod as I put the burrito down on the plate. "I just feel bad for being here while he's there."

"Peyton is the one who organized escaping, I assume?" he asks and I nod, "well, you're doing exactly what he worked for: escaping."

"But he's back there."

"And he's resilient and he'll make it out again. What about Leon? He couldn't possibly allow his mate to suffer abuse from his pack members?"

I shrug. "Leon was...he was always weird. He didn't abuse us, but he didn't stop it either. He'd leave. He'd look the other way. He looked uncomfortable. All that time...he knew Peyton was his mate, he let it happen."

"So he's just a bystander? He allowed his own mate to suffer?"

I stay silent. Our pack worked on levels of status, not just rank. The more popular and mean you are, the more privileges you have. That's why Jason was able to claim ownership of me after his father died — I heard many other members had wanted me but Jason was close enough to the alpha for him to get priority. Someone like Leon wouldn't even be able to get ownership of Peyton because he just wasn't mean enough. They didn't want us to live happy lives or for anyone to show us kindness, they wanted us to suffer.

But every time I think of the ways Leon could have saved Peyton, I become angry.

"None of y'all deserve to suffer," Bridger says as he stands up from his table, whatever he wanted to show me in that box is probably long forgotten. "And I will ensure that you and your friends won't go through it again. We're going to train today, hard, and even harder tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay."

_____ _____ _____ _____

Sweat rolls down from my neck to my back, making my shirt stick grossly to my back. My curls are damp and stick to my face and neck, bothering me more than anyone can imagine. As I lean back with one arm supporting me, I use my free hand to peel my soaked shirt from my back and then do it again to my front.

"I hate sweating," I say mostly to myself but Bridger and his lambda friend both laugh.

Bridger wanted to work on strength and endurance today. He showed me around the pack gym and then walked me through a quick full-body workout, promising that we'd go more in-depth some other time before making me end it with a boxing bag. The boxing bag really hurt my arms but he forced me to push past it. Then we had lunch and met up with a lambda named Austin. That was when the real torture began as Austin made me run, and run, and run, and run...

"You should get used to it," Bridger says as he shoves almost his entire burger in his mouth.

Austin hums in agreement. "I've seen how he trained some of these omegas, it's hell."

My eyes widen. "My arms already hurt."

"And they'll keep hurting," Austin says as he leans back against his arms. "So what pack you from?"

I glance at Bridger, surprised he didn't tell Austin any details about us. He really does respect our privacy. "It's called Silver Moon Pack."

He whistles in surprise. "That's pretty far from here. Did you plan to come here?"

I shake my head as I try to think of what to say. I look between the two of them as I lean upwards so that my aching arms can rest.

"Peyton was planning to go to the humans," I explain, "somehow we went the wrong direction."

"You were panicked, I'm sure," Bridger says, "but why the humans?"

"Angels. We were going to get their help...Peyton said it would be easier to fit in with the humans," I remember Peyton explaining his plan in great detail. He had worked so hard to make sure nothing wrong happened and had we just stuck to the plan, we'd all be okay. All of us.

I take a deep breath and try to keep my thoughts from going to a dark place. I take a deep breath as I shift in my spot. I can't get any work done if I keep thinking about Peyton. He needs to be strong for Jenna, Mika, and Katie and I will. But Goddess, I wish he was here.

I feel Bridger's eyes on me so I look over to him. He gives me a look as if he's asking if I'm okay. I give him a tiny smile and nod my head slightly. He told me that if I go to a dark place to text him but I want to work on helping myself stay ahead of those thoughts instead. I won't have Bridger forever.

"Have you ever met a human?" Austin asks, clearly not affected by my mood change. I shake my head and he laughs.

"They're odd — that's the best I can describe their species. Most of them aren't a threat to us anyway."

"Most?" I frown, "I thought humans didn't know..."

Bridger sends Austin a glare before looking over at me. "Most of them don't — actually, all of them don't. Humans aren't a threat to anything but themselves, but there are humans—" he uses air quotes around the word, "—that have been turned into something different that we call Hunters. Not to be confused with Kappas and Lambdas. They're their own species, they're not human anymore."

Intrigued, I lean in more. "W-What do they hunt?"

Bridger and Austin look at each other as if answering my question is hard. Austin looks down at the ground as he leans all the way back so that he's lying down, leaving only Bridger and I sitting up. I look at Bridger and frown.

"What is it–" I pause before putting two and two together, "– it's us, isn't it? Omegas?"

He sighs. "Yes, but there hasn't been any recent happenings. Packs usually report it, we haven't heard of any for like–"

Austin cuts him off. "Five years, give or take. It's something we keep up with, my Kappa makes us update or keep up with any species that threatens us so we can correspond smoothly with Etas."

Bridger nods. "We believe Hunters are going extinct."

"Or packs just aren't reporting it," I say as I put my chin on my knees. "My pack wouldn't. It's not important."

"I mean...it's required they do it. Hunters pose a risk to everyone especially omegas but also pups and nymphs and, if you haven't noticed, we have a shit ton of nymphs here," Austin says as he points at the woods behind us.

I look behind us but don't see anyone. All nymphs blend in with their surroundings, Bridger explained to me that they're like chameleons which I learned are really cool lizards that can also blend in with their surroundings.

When I look away, I see movement in the corner of my eye which tells me she must have been hiding from me. I don't want her to hide from me, I don't want to seem scary.

I look back at Austin and Bridger and choose not to push the topic any further. It's hard to get people to understand how bad our treatment is. If Hunters came into my old pack and took us all, my alpha would never report it. He wouldn't care.

"We should get back to training," Bridger says as he claps his hands and pushes himself up from the ground. Austin does a single nod, follows suit, and starts walking in the direction of the exit. That makes me hopeful that I don't have to run anymore.

Bridger steps in front of me and I look up at him. He puts his hand out and I take it. My eyes widen when he practically pulls my entire body off the ground and my arm out of my socket.

"If they're still around," Bridger says, "if my plan plays out well, Hunters will need to be a concern for you in the future. But this training will help you, you'll be strong and capable."

"What is your plan?" I ask. He's been hinting at "a plan" but he hasn't offered any information about it. I trust Bridger, he's given me no reason for me to feel otherwise, but I don't like him leaving me in the dark. It makes me nervous and the way he worded his sentence makes me even more anxious. Why will I have to worry about Hunters?

"Let me finalize the details, make it perfect – or as perfect as possible. Then I'll tell you," he says, "it's good, nothing bad. Great, even."

That doesn't help my nerves but I don't bother asking him for more information. I just nod and follow beside him. Whatever he has planned, I just hope it doesn't hurt me more than I've already been.

---

Word Count: 3331

What's his plan 🤔🤔🤔