His Broken Luna: The Omega He Discarded

CHAPTER 4: ASHES AND REVELATIONS

I wake up to the acrid smell of smoke and the sound of voices shouting my name. My head throbs like someone's taken a sledgehammer to my skull, and when I try to open my eyes, the world spins sickeningly.

"She's awake!" That's Sierra's voice, sharp with relief.

Hands grip my shoulders, steadying me. "Skylar, can you hear me?" Cameron's face swims into focus above me, his features tight with worry.

I try to speak, but my throat feels like sandpaper. I manage a weak nod instead.

"Don't move." He turns his head, shouting over his shoulder. "We need a medic here now!"

Slowly, my vision clears enough to take in my surroundings. I'm outside the school building, lying on the grass. Fire trucks surround the building, their lights flashing red and blue. Students cluster in groups at a safe distance, teachers doing headcounts.

"What happened?" My voice comes out raspy.

"You ran into a burning building like an i***t, that's what happened." Sierra crouches beside me, her face smudged with ash. "What were you thinking?"

Memory floods back. Kaley's smile. The heavy object hitting my head. The trap.

"Kaley," I rasp. "Where's Kaley?"

Cameron and Sierra exchange a glance that makes my stomach sink.

"She's fine," Cameron says carefully. "Claims she was overcome by smoke and doesn't remember anything after pulling the fire alarm."

"That's bullshit." I try to sit up, but Cameron's hand on my shoulder keeps me down. "She hit me. She set this whole thing up."

"We know." Sierra's voice is tight with anger. "But without proof—"

"There are cameras in the hallways," I interrupt. "They'll show what really happened."

"The fire damaged the security system." Cameron's expression is grim. "Convenient, right? All the footage from that wing is gone."

Of course it is. Kaley always covers her tracks.

"Alpha Kade wants to see you." Cameron helps me sit up slowly. "Both of you, actually. He's pretty pissed about what happened."

Great. Just what I need. An audience with the Alpha while I look like I've been dragged through hell.

The pack medic appears, a middle-aged woman named Hannah who's been treating wolves for longer than I've been alive. She shines a light in my eyes, checks my pulse, examines the knot on the back of my head.

"Mild concussion," she announces. "You'll live, but you need rest. No training for at least three days."

"I'm fine—"

"That wasn't a suggestion, Skylar." Hannah's tone brooks no argument. "Your wolf healing will handle most of it, but head injuries are serious. Three days rest, minimum."

She moves on to check other students while Cameron helps me to my feet. My legs wobble, but I manage to stay upright with his support.

"I can walk," I protest weakly.

"Humor me." His arm stays firmly around my waist as we navigate through the chaos toward where Alpha Kade stands talking to the fire chief.

Alpha Kade Thornwood is an imposing man in his late forties, with silver threading through his dark hair and eyes that miss nothing. He's been Alpha since before I was born, leading our pack with firm but fair authority.

He turns when we approach, his expression thunderous.

"Explain," he says simply.

Cameron straightens beside me. "There was a fire in the girls' locker room wing. Mateo reported hearing someone trapped inside. I went in to investigate, and Skylar followed."

"Why would you run into a burning building?" Kade's eyes bore into me.

"Because I—" I stop. How do I explain instinct? How do I tell an Alpha that I knew it was a trap but ran in anyway because I couldn't let Cameron face it alone?

"She was trying to help," Sierra cuts in, appearing at my other side. "Which is more than I can say for some people."

Kade's eyebrow rises. "And you are?"

"Sierra Novak. Delta Kyle's niece, transferred from Western Territory."

Recognition flickers in Kade's eyes. "Ah yes. Kyle mentioned you'd be joining us. Settling in well, I see."

"Learning lots about pack dynamics," Sierra says dryly. "Very educational."

Despite the situation, I see Kade's lips twitch with what might be amusement.

"The fire chief says it started in a trash can near the lockers," Kade continues. "Likely arson, given the accelerant they found. Do any of you know anything about that?"

The question hangs heavy in the air. I could tell him about Kaley, about the threats, about everything. But what good would it do? She's the Gamma's daughter. I'm nobody. It would be my word against hers.

"No, sir," I hear myself say.

Kade studies me for a long moment, and I get the distinct impression he knows I'm lying. But he doesn't push.

"Very well. Cameron, I expect a full written report on my desk by tonight. Skylar, go home and rest. Sierra, please make sure she gets there safely." He pauses, his expression softening slightly. "I'm glad no one was seriously hurt."

He walks away to deal with the fire chief, leaving the three of us standing in awkward silence.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Sierra demands once he's out of earshot.

"Because it wouldn't matter." The defeat in my voice makes me hate myself. "It never matters."

"That's not true—"

"Yes, it is." I pull away from Cameron's supportive arm, needing space. "This is my life, Sierra. This is what it's always been. Kaley does whatever she wants, and I deal with it."

"That's the most defeatist thing I've ever heard." Sierra crosses her arms. "You're just going to let her get away with this?"

"What choice do I have?"

"You could fight back. Actually fight back, not just take it." Her eyes flash with frustration. "You took her down in under ten seconds during training this morning. You're stronger than her in every way that matters."

"Physical strength isn't everything." I'm so tired. My head hurts, my lungs burn from smoke inhalation, and I just want to go home and pretend this day never happened.

"She's right." Cameron's quiet voice startles me. "About you being stronger. I've been watching the morning training footage for weeks now, Skylar. You're incredible."

Heat floods my face. "You've been watching me?"

"Security protocols," he says, but there's something in his tone that makes it sound like more than that. "The point is, you have skills most warriors would kill for. Why waste them hiding?"

"Because hiding keeps me safe."

"Does it?" Sierra gestures to the smoking school building. "Because from where I'm standing, hiding hasn't kept you very safe at all."

She has a point. A good point. But years of conditioning are hard to overcome.

"I need to go home." I start walking toward the student parking lot, but Cameron falls into step beside me.

"I'll drive you. You have a concussion."

"I can walk. It's not far."

"Skylar." He catches my arm gently. "Please. Let me help."

There's something vulnerable in his expression that makes me pause. Why does he care so much? We've barely spoken before this week, and now he's acting like my wellbeing matters to him.

"Fine," I relent, too tired to argue.

His truck is a massive black thing that requires a small ladder to climb into. Sierra helps me up while Cameron slides behind the wheel.

"Where to?" he asks.

I give him my address, and we pull out of the parking lot. Through the rearview mirror, I see the school still surrounded by emergency vehicles, students milling around in confused clusters.

"Your brother was looking for you," Cameron says after a moment. "Before the fire. He seemed upset."

"He's always upset with me lately." I lean my head against the cool window. "What else is new?"

"He grabbed you pretty roughly this morning. Does he do that often?"

The question catches me off guard. "Why do you care?"

"Because it's not okay." Cameron's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Beta or not, brother or not, he shouldn't put his hands on you like that."

I don't know what to say to that. Nobody's ever called out Mateo's behavior before.

"He's under a lot of pressure," I say finally. "Training to be Beta, dealing with pack politics, trying to live up to Dad's expectations."

"That's not an excuse."

"I didn't say it was. I'm just explaining." I close my eyes, exhaustion pulling at me. "Can we not talk about my brother right now?"

"Fair enough." There's a pause, then, "Can I ask you something else?"

"Depends on the question."

"Why did you really run into that building? And don't say it was to help. You knew it was a trap. I could see it on your face."

Damn him for being observant.

"I don't know," I admit quietly. "Instinct, maybe. Or stupidity. Take your pick."

"I think it's because you're braver than you give yourself credit for." His voice is soft. "You've spent so long trying to be invisible that you've forgotten you're allowed to be brave."

The words hit something deep in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

We pull up to my house, a modest two-story on the edge of pack territory. My father's truck isn't in the driveway, which means he's still at work. Small mercies.

"Thank you for the ride," I say, reaching for the door handle.

"Skylar, wait." Cameron turns to face me fully. "The pack trials are in three weeks. I want you to compete."

My stomach drops. "Cameron—"

"You don't have to decide now. Just think about it." His expression is earnest. "You deserve to show everyone what you can do. You deserve to stop hiding."

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number: "You got lucky today. Next time you won't."

My blood runs cold. I show the message to Cameron, whose expression darkens dangerously.

"That's it. We're telling Alpha Kade."

"No." I delete the message. "It'll just make things worse."

"Worse than someone trying to kill you?"

"They weren't trying to kill me. Just scare me."

"And you're okay with that?" Cameron looks incredulous. "Skylar, this is serious. Whoever's doing this needs to be stopped."

"I know who's doing this. But without proof, it doesn't matter." I climb out of the truck carefully, my head still pounding. "Thanks again for the ride."

I make it halfway to my front door before Sierra's voice stops me.

"We're not giving up on this!" she shouts from the truck. "Or on you!"

I don't turn around. I can't. Because if I do, if I see the genuine concern on their faces, I might actually start to believe that things could be different.

And hope is a dangerous thing when you've learned to live without it.

Inside the house, I lean against the closed door and finally let myself feel everything. The fear, the pain, the crushing weight of knowing that Kaley almost won today. That she might win next time.

My phone buzzes again. Another message, but this time from Sierra: "Training tomorrow morning, 5 AM. Don't even think about skipping. We need to talk strategy."

Despite everything, I find myself smiling.

Maybe hope isn't so dangerous after all.

Maybe it's exactly what I need.