The Captured Omega's Savior

Chapter Three

WINTER

The scream cuts through morning air like a blade through silk.

Coffee mug halfway to my lips, I freeze. Susan's hand tightens on the kitchen counter. That sound—raw, young, terrified—comes from the courtyard.

I'm moving before I think. Susan grabs for me but I'm already gone, bare feet slapping cold stone as I follow that awful sound.

Magnus has Tommy Vasquez pinned against the fountain. Blood runs from the kid's nose in twin streams, dripping onto his torn shirt. One eye already swelling shut. Magnus's fist draws back for another blow.

"Think you can steal from me?" His voice carries that particular calm that means someone's about to die. "My bread? From my kitchen?"

Tommy can't answer. Can barely breathe through the blood.

The pack watches from doorways, windows, shadows. Mrs. Chen clutches her daughter behind the baker's door. The Morrison twins peer from the second-floor landing. Beth presses against her mother near the garden wall, knuckles white where she grips the stone.

Nobody moves. Nobody breathes too loud. Three weeks of Magnus's rule have taught us all exactly what helping costs.

"Winter."

My name in his mouth makes my skin crawl. Those ice-blue eyes find me across the courtyard, and his smile spreads slow and satisfied.

"Come here."

My feet move without permission. Each step feels like walking through water, thick and resistant. Tommy's good eye tracks my movement—desperate, pleading. Thirteen years old. Parents died last winter when their car hit black ice. He's been trying to keep his sister Emma fed ever since.

Magnus grabs my wrist. Pulls me close enough to smell copper and violence.

"This boy stole from your alpha." His fingers are cold despite the morning sun. "What should happen to thieves, hmm? What would your father have done?"

Dad would have made sure no kid in his pack went hungry enough to steal bread. But that's not what Magnus wants to hear.

"He's just hungry."

"Hunger doesn't excuse theft."

The backhand snaps Tommy's head sideways. Fresh blood spatters the white stone, bright as paint in the morning light. His lip splits wide.

"But you're right about one thing." Magnus studies me like I'm something he's considering buying. "He's too young to understand consequences without proper... instruction."

That smile. God, that smile. Same one he wore when he made Susan watch as he dismembered one of dad's loyal enforcers. Same one when he let his wolves use the Jenkins sisters for entertainment.

"Kiss his wounds."

The words don't make sense. Can't make sense.

"What?"

"You heard me." His grip shifts to my hair, casual ownership. "Kiss them better. Like a good female should. Show him the kind of comfort pack females provide when their men are hurting."

Bile rises sharp and acidic. Around us, the pack shifts uneasily. Someone whispers a prayer. Someone else tells them to shut up.

Tommy watches me through his one good eye. Waiting. Hoping. If I refuse, Magnus kills him just to make the point. I've seen him tear out throats for less.

I kneel on bloody stone. Up close, Tommy smells like fear-sweat and the particular sweetness that marks omega children. That scent will only get stronger as he matures. In a few years, he'll smell like prey to every alpha for miles.

My lips touch the cut on his forehead. Copper floods my mouth. Tommy shivers, whole body shaking as he tries not to sob.

"Good girl." Magnus pets my hair like I'm a dog who performed a trick. "Now the lip. Show everyone how nurturing you can be."

He holds me there, fingers twisted in my hair while I press my mouth to Tommy's split lip. The kid whimpers. Someone in the watching crowd turns away. When Magnus finally lets go, I taste blood and shame and rage so hot it burns.

"Very good." His palm cups my cheek, proprietary and revolting. "Now patch him up properly. After all, you'll need practice for when David requires your... ministrations."

The threat lands like a punch. David Fletcher with his dead eyes and wet laugh. David who gets hard watching his brother break fingers.

I help Tommy stand. He weighs nothing, bird bones and desperation. Emma hovers in the kitchen doorway—six years old, already learning that invisible means safe.

"Thank you," Tommy whispers as I guide him inside. Blood bubbles on his lips. "Thank you for not letting him—"

"Shh."

The medical supplies are where Susan always keeps them, second cabinet from the left. My hands move on autopilot—clean the blood, butterfly strips for the worst cuts, ice for the swelling. Tommy sits perfectly still while I work, but tears track silent down his cheeks.

"Does Emma have enough food?"

He shakes his head.

"There's bread in the pantry. Bottom shelf, behind the flour. Take it."

"But Magnus said—"

"Take it. If you need more, find me. Not the kitchen. Me. Understand?"

He nods and slips away, Emma's small hand folded in his. Two more orphans trying to survive in a world gone sharp-toothed and hungry.

"Winter." Susan appears like she always does, silent and sudden. "Laundry. Now."

The basement stairs are narrow and steep. Dad used to joke about breaking his neck on them. Now they're just concrete leading down to more concrete, all the warmth bled out.

Susan locks the door. Checks it twice. When she turns, her face could be carved from stone except for the muscle jumping in her jaw.

"That was well done."

"I enabled him. Played his twisted game while everyone watched."

"You kept Tommy breathing." She moves to the washing machine, pulls out a shirt. Dad's shirt. The bloodstains have set deep. "Living is winning right now. Remember that."

The sharp smell of bleach makes my eyes water. Or maybe that's just rage. Hard to tell anymore.

"Suppressants are failing faster."

"I know." My skin itches where the omega pheromones want to break through. "Yesterday's dose lasted six hours. Today... maybe four."

"Then we're out of time." Susan attacks the bloodstain like it personally offended her. "I sent word to Kailan."

"Who?"

"My brother. Half-brother." The shirt tears under her hands. She doesn't seem to notice. "He's been in Tibet for ten years. Haven't spoken since he left, but he'll come. Has to come."

"Susan—"

"My father didn't know the meaning of fidelity. He f****d anything that moved." The words come out sharp as broken glass. "My mother first. Omega. Sweet. Dead from rogue ambush when I was seven. Then he met Su-mei."

She abandons the ruined shirt for another. This one has less blood. Same memories.

"Were-tiger from an old bloodline. Mountain clan. They don't mix with wolves but Su-mei was... different. Curious. Drawn to Russell's power. He married her despite every tradition saying no."

"Were-tigers are real?"

"Real as you and me. They had Kailan. Then Russell decided one exotic woman wasn't enough. Started f*****g packmates, humans, anyone who'd spread their legs."

The bitterness in her voice could strip paint.

"Su-mei found him with three women. In their bed. Their marriage bed." Susan's hands still on the fabric. "Kailan was twenty. He tried to rip Russell's throat out."

"Christ."

"Tiger came out. Not full shift—that would've meant death for everyone in the room. But claws. Fangs. Rage like nothing I'd ever seen." Her smile holds zero warmth. "Russell survived. Barely. Kailan couldn't stay after that. Su-mei took him to her brother's monastery. Haven't heard from him since."

"But you think he'll come?"

"Kailan loved Judson. Your father gave him guidance, treated him like a brother." Susan returns to scrubbing. "When he finds out what Magnus did... yes. He'll come."

The certainty in her voice should reassure me. Instead, it makes my chest tight. A stranger I've never met riding to rescue us from halfway around the world.

"What about tonight?"

"Survive." Susan abandons the laundry entirely. "Give David enough to keep him satisfied. Not everything. Just enough."

"That's not—"

"Winter." She grips my shoulders. "This isn't an engagement. It's an auction preview. David doesn't want a mate. He wants merchandise."

The floor tilts. I brace against the wall.

"What?"

"Omegas are disappearing. Three from Riverside last month. Two from Crescent Moon. Strong bloodlines, young, healthy. Your father was tracking the pattern when—" Her voice catches. "He got too close. Found things. Buyers with resources that go beyond pack politics."

"He died trying to stop it."

"He died trying to protect you." Susan pulls out a faded photograph. "This is your grandmother. Your mother's mother."

The woman in the photo could be me in different clothes. Same black and white hair. Same delicate features. But her eyes...

"She wasn't human."

"Fae blood. Diluted, hidden, but there." Susan pockets the photo. "Every missing omega has trace amounts. But you? With that hair? You're the premium product. Omega fertility plus fae bloodline."

My legs give out. Cold concrete against my spine as I slide down the wall.

"Judson had a safe house ready. New identity. Canada. But Magnus—"

"Moved first."

"Yes."

That last morning. Dad holding me too long. Making me promise to keep training. He knew.

"What happens when Kailan gets here?"

"He'll kill Magnus. Slowly." Susan says it like discussing weather. "But first we have to survive until then."

She produces a vial from her pocket along with a syringe. The liquid in the vial seems to eat light.

"Military grade suppressants. Black market. Kills your wolf completely for twelve hours."

"Side effects?"

"You become human. Completely. No strength, no healing, no pack bonds. When it wears off... it'll be agonizing trying to reconnect with your wolf."

I take the vial and the syringe even as my hand shakes.

"Susan?" Beth's voice through the door. "Magnus wants Winter. Says she needs to start preparing."

Susan squeezes my shoulder hard enough to bruise. "David Fletcher likes fear and pain but he's a coward. Find the middle ground. Don't challenge but don't break. Not until we can run."

The stairs feel steeper going up. Each step takes me closer to whatever Magnus has planned.

Anna and Maria wait in my bedroom with makeup cases and empty smiles. The dress Magnus chose hangs on the closet door—white silk that will show every mark David decides to leave.

"Traditional virgin bride." Anna's voice stays carefully neutral. "His specific request."

Maria starts on my hair without asking. Their movements are practiced. Efficient. They've done this before.

"The Fletcher brothers have particular tastes." Maria keeps her eyes on her work. "David likes fear but James—"

"Maria."

"She should know."

"Know what?"

They exchange looks. Anna sighs.

"James isn't like David. He tried to stop—" She cuts herself off. "Doesn't matter now."

Through the window, I watch Magnus's wolves patrol. Three weeks ago, those men answered to Dad. Now they wear Magnus's mark and keep their eyes down.

"Hold still." Maria starts on my makeup. "Need to cover that bruise on your throat."

From yesterday. When the suppressants started failing and Magnus noticed. His hand around my throat, testing. Seeing how much pressure before something broke.

The door opens. Beth slips inside.

"Susan wanted you to know—Pete will be waiting for Kailan at the airport."

Pete's hardware store. The emergency contact Dad set up years ago.

"How long?"

"She doesn't know. But Pete got word from the monastery. He's coming."

A stranger who might not make it in time.

Anna steps back. "Done."

The mirror shows someone else. Pale silk and careful makeup. Bruises hidden. Omega sweetness barely contained by failing suppressants. I look exactly like what Magnus wants to sell.

"One hour." Maria gathers her supplies. "Remember—David likes the chase but not too much fight. Just enough to make it interesting."

They leave me with that wisdom. Beth perches on my bed, standing guard.

"We could run now."

"Magnus has the borders watched and we're surrounded by miles of deep woods. We won't get far."

"And if Kailan doesn't show?"

"Then we handle it ourselves."