Page 29 of Knot Their Safe Haven
Only those who needed to know understood what lay behind the unremarkable facade.
I entered through the private entrance, immediately assaulted by the familiar chaos of too many people in too small a space. We needed those new facilities desperately. Seventeen new refugees meant seventeen more beds to find, more mouths to feed, more stories of Alpha abuse and systemic oppression.
"Velvet!" Amelia, one of the Omega volunteers appeared from the art room, paint splattered across her dark skin like war paint. "Thank goodness you're here. We have a situation."
Another warm welcome in the heart of chaos.
I followed her to the medical wing, where Malcolm was bent over a young Omega—couldn't be more than sixteen—with bruises covering every visible inch of skin. His handsmoved with practiced efficiency, but I caught the tension in his shoulders, the way he carefully didn't look at me.
"What happened?"
"Parents tried to sell her to a pack." Amelia's voice was flat, professional, but I heard the rage underneath. "When she refused, they decided to make her more 'compliant.'"
The bruises made more sense now.
Systematic abuse designed to break spirit, to create the docile Omega society preferred. I'd seen it too many times, had lived it myself in foster homes that viewed unclaimed Omegas as paychecks waiting to happen.
"Documentation?"
"Already filed. Police report, medical records, the works. The parents are in custody, but..." She trailed off, and I understood. The system didn't really care about one more abused Omega and the legal process would drag on for years.
Justice was a luxury we couldn't afford to wait for.
"Put her in the lilac room. Full security protocol." I made a mental note to have Knox increase patrols around the building. "And start processing adoption papers under the Haven's guardianship."
Malcolm finally looked up, those midnight eyes meeting mine for a fraction of a second before skating away.
In that brief moment, I saw everything—guilt, desire, the same desperate need that gnawed at my bones. He'd remember every detail of last night, would torture himself with the ethics of it while still wanting more.
Just like I did.
"I'll need to do a full examination," he said, voice carefully professional. "There might be internal injuries."
"Whatever she needs." I touched the girl's hand gently, feeling her flinch before relaxing. "You're safe now, sweetheart. No one's going to hurt you again."
She looked at me with eyes too old for her face, and I saw myself at sixteen, promising the same thing to my reflection.
The world had proved me a liar then, but I'd be damned if I let it happen to her.
I left Malcolm to his work, making my rounds through the Haven.
Each room held another story of survival, another Omega who'd refused to accept their designated fate.
This was my real legacy.
Not the wealth or the connections or the reputation.
This—these lives saved, these futures reclaimed.
My office was as I'd left it this morning, chaos barely contained. I sank into my chair, finally allowing the exhaustion to show. The stack of threats had grown in my absence, three more envelopes slipped under the door. I didn't bother opening them. They all said the same thing anyway.
Stop fighting or we'll destroy you.
Expose your secrets.
Remember your place.
I poured a glass of wine—Vyes, at 3 PM, judge me—and stared at the photo of Malcolm at my door.
