Chapter 60: This is all my fault Pt 2
Torin | Continuation
Her lips tremble and her voice is fragile. "It... it was back at Vanya’s engagement. I went out into the gardens with Arabella. We watched the stars, talked about our days at Alma. Then she wanted a drink and went back inside with Vanya, while my other two friends were in the bathroom. That’s when people in all black approached me. The next thing I remember... I woke up in the outskirts of the country." She sniffs, her voice breaking again.
"These people were part of the auction. Our handlers... all of us omegas captive were branded with burns to prove we were property of the auction house." Her hand moves unconsciously to the mark on her shoulder, fingers brushing it as if it burns anew. "Most omegas there were unbonded and packless. Apparently, that’s the type that fetches the most money. When they found out I was bonded, they were livid at the loss. I didn’t sell because no one will ever take a bonded omega, or an omega with a pack. It’s too much of a liability, too much trouble. So I was lucky... and unlucky. If I hadn’t escaped, I’d have become a breeder for the Auction house to birth omega’s."
Her words ring in my ears, heavy and suffocating.
"How could they mistake you for being packless? You were at a party filled with packs," I manage to ask, though I don’t expect her to have an answer. Cruel people don’t need reasons for their cruelty.
"They had a list of all the packs and their omega’s," she whispers, sorrow dripping from her tone. "And I wasn’t on it. It’s not like anyone knows I’m Spade Pack’s second omega."
Her face drops, her eyes hollow, and my breath hitches. That’s right. No one knows who she is. In the eyes of the world, she’s packless. Free game for anyone. By not going public about her, we’ve inadvertently painted a target on her back, marked her for the scum of the earth to claim.
No. This cannot go on. I need to do something. I cannot risk this happening again. It’s only a matter of time before someone else tries to take her, and next time... I might not get her back.
"Torin... are you okay?" she asks, her innocent eyes searching mine, looking straight into my soul. I nod quickly, forcing composure as I rise to my feet.
"Get some sleep. I’ll be right back. I need to make a quick call and grab the first aid kit to tend to your face," I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She nods reluctantly, fiddling with her hands, her silence heavy.
"I promise I’ll be right back," I reassure her, but she doesn’t answer, only lowers her gaze.
As much as it pains me, I leave. My steps are heavy as I make my way to my office that is not far from my room. I close the door behind me, pull my phone from my pocket, and dial Oracle. He answers on the first ring. I would have called Oril, but I don’t trust him to respond with urgency.
"Hello," Oracle greets, his tone clipped.
"I need you guys to come back as soon as possible. I’m sure the funeral is almost over by now. Erin can’t handle long events, so it should be coming to a close," I say, my voice urgent.
"Why?" Oracle asks, confusion lacing his tone.
"Lorali is back. I found her. You need to come back so we can decide as a pack what to do with her, because things have changed."
The line goes silent. All I hear is Oracle’s heavy breathing.
"She’s... in the house right now..." he gulps, almost disbelieving.
"Yes. In my bed. Just hurry up and get back with the o—" Before I can finish, he hangs up. I stare at the phone, stunned.
"This little punk is getting more audacious by the day," I murmur, clenching the phone in my fist. I exhale sharply, forcing myself to calm down. I should go tend to my omega’s wounds. They were bad, too bad to ignore.
I head down to the kitchen, grab the first aid kit, and return to my room. Lorali has fallen back asleep, tangled in my sheets, her breathing uneven but calmer than before. I climbed the small steps to my bed and sat on the edge, opening the kit.
I start with her busted lips, cleaning the dried blood carefully. She flinches slightly as the water touches the wound, and I pause, my hand trembling. This wouldn’t have happened if we had just faced the truth, if we had accepted her instead of letting my father’s decisions dictate everything. Walter would have thrown a fit, yes, but he would have gotten over it. He always does. His anger never lasts more than a week or two. He would have accepted it eventually, if only my mother hadn’t planted seeds of hatred in him. Everything could have been perfect.
It takes me nearly an hour to finish cleaning and bandaging Lorali’s wounds. The only reason it takes so long is because I worked slowly, careful not to wake her. It hurts me enough to see her like this while she sleeps. If she were awake, looking at me with tear‑filled eyes, it would be unbearable.
When I finally finish, I leave the room quietly, closing the door behind me and I return to my office, sinking into my chair, exhaustion pressing down on me. I check my phone for missed calls or messages.
Nothing.
Not a single call. Not a single text.
I frown, confusion gnawing at me. They should have been back by now. Erin’s funeral couldn’t have lasted this long.
I bring my hand to my head, rubbing my temple, then send a message to the group.
Me: Where are you guys?
Me: You need to come back soon!
I stare at the message I’ve sent out, waiting for someone—anyone—to reply. But not a single response comes through. I can see they’ve read it. They just don’t reply.
"Maybe they’re on the way back. Let me give them the benefit of the doubt," I mutter, slouching into my seat. I spin the chair slowly, staring up at the ceiling, trying to distract myself. But when I close my eyes, the image of Lorali’s state flashes in my mind. Her flinch when I cleaned her busted lip. The way she looked when I found her at that trailer park. Her cries echo in my head, louder than any silence.
My eyes snap open. I can’t just sit here. I need to do something now. I can’t let this continue.
I stop spinning, push myself closer to the desk, and open my laptop. My fingers fly across the keyboard, faster than my thoughts. It doesn’t take me more than a minute to write the statement:
It is an honor and with great joy we would like to announce that we are taking a second omega, whom we have found it in our hearts to love. Please walk with us on this new journey.
I send it to every single news company in the country and release it on Spade Company’s forum. It’s done. The moment I press send, the world sees it.
I quickly open the company’s stock tab. Just as expected, the numbers are dropping fast, faster than when Augi’s gambling scandal broke. My phone vibrates over and over, unknown calls flooding in, but I ignore them. I keep my eyes on the screen, watching Spade Industries plummet.
It hurts. Gods, it hurts. I worked all my life for this company, sacrificed everything to build it, and now I am the one harming it. But the pain of watching the numbers fall doesn’t compare to the pain of watching Lorali cry.
This storm will pass. Spade will recover. Especially now that we have the Whales deal secured overseas through the Masintosh’s. The people will rage for a week or two, maybe longer, but eventually they’ll forget. That’s how the internet works, it burns hot, then dies out.
But what I will never forget are Lorali’s cries. They will forever ring in my ears.
Today, for the first time in my life, I put Spade second. Something I swore I would never do. All because my mate cried.
I bring my hand to my throbbing forehead, pressing hard as if I can stop the ache. "Oh goddess... what has become of me?" I whisper, my voice breaking into the empty room.
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