Split Alphas

Chapter 12

As I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a ceiling I didn’t recognize. The room was still dark, lit only by a faint glow seeping in under the door, offering a small sense of boundary in the otherwise vast darkness. My back tensed as I shifted, a dull ache reminding me of everything that had happened over the last couple of days. The bed was cold beside me—I was alone.

Panic spiked in my chest. Wyatt wasn’t curled up beside me anymore.

I sprang from the bed, a startled squeak escaping my lips as my feet touched the icy marble floor. I hurried toward the door, my heart pounding as I reached for the handle, desperate to make sure I wasn’t dreaming—or worse, that I hadn’t been taken again.

Before my hand could touch the knob, the door swung open.

Wyatt stood there, looking groggy, holding a plate of breakfast. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw me, and I wasn’t sure if he was shocked to see me at the door or at how disheveled I must’ve looked—my wild black curls sticking out in every direction like a ball of frizz.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Ginger. It’s only 4 a.m., but I wanted to leave early and take us home. Still, I didn’t want you leaving on an empty stomach.”

I couldn’t help but smile at him. Somehow, the Moon Goddess had blessed me with a mate who was gentle, thoughtful, and protective.

Yet somehow she also thought you needed that other pathetic excuse for a mate as well, Amethyst growled bitterly in my mind.

My emotions were a storm—pulling, crashing, rising.

Surely there had to be a reason Everett had acted the way he did. It couldn’t just be about me being an omega. He’d asked about Alpha Michael… but why would he think I knew anything about the Alpha’s business? I was just an omega—someone who cleaned and served. My job was to keep my head down, finish my tasks, and squeeze in my online classes when I could. Even if I had known something, no one would’ve taken me seriously.

Wyatt must’ve sensed the tension winding in my body, because he cleared his throat softly to draw me back.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked gently, like he was speaking to a frightened deer. “I know the last couple of days have been a lot. I can call the pack doctor right now if you want.”

“No, I’m fine, Wyatt,” I replied quickly. “I just got lost in thought. Let’s eat and hit the road. I’ve never really traveled outside the pack before, so I’m excited to see something new!”

I offered him a bright smile, trying to push away his concern. I didn’t want to weigh him down. He was Alpha—he had enough responsibilities. The last thing I wanted was to be another burden.

“I know this might seem soon,” Wyatt said, his tone dipping into something more serious, “but on the way back, I want to talk about what happened with my brother. I’d rather not do it here… we don’t know who might be listening.” My mind couldn’t help but reel as I thought of my interaction with Alpha Michael. I needed to tell Wyatt soon but I needed more time to gather my thoughts so I could articulate myself in a way that would make sense. I had no concrete proof of anything back happening with Alpha Michael but my gut said otherwise.

Wyatts suspicion made my skin crawl, but I understood. My old pack wasn’t exactly trustworthy. I never fully knew how Alpha Michael kept the pack funded, and I hadn’t dared ask. Girls disappeared sometimes. No one questioned it. No one mourned them publicly. And even though we weren’t treated cruelly, servants like me were replaceable. Our contracts were binding unless we could buy our way out—which most unmated omegas couldn’t afford.

Wyatt brought me a simple breakfast of eggs, fruit, and toast. It wasn’t elaborate, but it tasted like luxury to me—if only because I hadn’t had to make it myself.

Cooking had always been my thing. When I was first brought to the pack house as an orphan, I could barely do anything—mostly laundry or serving food someone else had made. But there was a servant named Callie who took me under her wing. She was like an older sister. Brilliant in the kitchen. Patient. Kind.

She even got to take a few cooking classes at the community college. When I was at my lowest, she comforted me by teaching me her favorite recipes. She’d always call me a natural, even though I knew I could never match her.

The day she didn’t show up in the kitchen, I felt something shatter inside me. The head omega told me Callie left to pursue a culinary career… but she never said goodbye. I knew better than to ask questions. After she “left,” I was promoted to kitchen duty full time. I kept improving, slowly chasing her memory in every dish I made.

Inspired by her, I’d started taking college classes—cooking and pharmaceutical science. I wanted to explore the link between food and medicine. But I hadn’t told anyone that. Not yet.

After we finished eating, Wyatt whisked me downstairs toward the front entrance. We kept quiet, moving quickly and cautiously. The pack house was asleep, and even with Alpha Michael’s blessing, something about my departure didn’t sit right.

Rain began tapping against the windows as we reached the front door. Outside, Tom leaned against a sleek black SUV, eyes half-shut like he was trying to sneak in one more nap. Wyatt clapped a hand on his shoulder, startling him.

“Thanks for arranging this, Tom. We’ll see you back home soon.”

Tom gave a groggy nod. “No problem. Just don’t make me get up this early again.”

We both chuckled.

“He’s never been a morning person,” Wyatt teased.

Tom rolled his eyes and closed the SUV door behind us. The vehicle purred to life, slowly pulling away from the pack house. The windows were tinted so dark I could barely see out. As the partition between us and the driver rolled up, Wyatt turned to me, his eyes serious.

“Alright,” he said. “I need you to tell me everything that happened—from the dress shop all the way until you got back.”