Page 68 of A Pack of Mistletoe
“Rosie!” I call out, voice already cracking. The air is thick with peppermint. Her scent is burnt, acrid and ruined. My heart seizes.
“Here.”
Her voice is so small I almost miss it. From the bedroom. Of course. Omega instinct is to be somewhere soft and safe when threatened. This has been her primary space for years.
I’m through the door before anyone else. She’s just a lump under the comforter, trembling. Not shaking from cold.Sobbing.
“Rosie, baby, what happened?” I whisper, climbing onto the bed beside her head. She doesn’t look up. Just pulls the blanket tighter. Wyatt slides in beside me, curling close to her middle, rubbing gentle circles against her back.
Harlan moves to the foot of the bed, picking something up from the floor. Her phone.
The screen lights his face and what I see in his expression turns my blood to ice. His jaw locks, teeth bared, eyes flashing like tempered steel. His dominance rolls out so suddenly it punches the air from my lungs. The whole room seems to vibrate with it.
Rosie lets out a soft, wounded whimper, and the sound breaks him. He reins it back immediately, fighting to calm the storm in him, but his knuckles are still white around the phone.
“What?” Wyatt demands.
Harlan passes the phone over, and I look at the screen over Wyatt’s shoulder.
The screen shows an email. Something official with the nameMoralesacross the top. With every sentence I read, my whole being fills with rage. It’s a petition for conservatorship over Rosie, launched through a law firm called Wright & Luth by her father, Enrique Morales.Ex Parte Petition for Temporary Conservatorship and Order for Immediate Retrieval.It claims Rosie is “incapacitated due to volatile omega hormones” and under “undue influence” by the Sterling Pack. That we’re controlling her somehow.
My hands grip the phone. A hand on my shoulder has me jerking back, ready to fight anyone right now. But it’s just Logan. He slowly takes the phone from my hand, clearly trying not to set me off. My scent is probably ash at this point.
He reads the same bullshit message the rest of us do. Logan stays frozen, staring at the letterhead like it’s poison.
Then, very quietly, “This isn’t just her father.”
He lifts his gaze to us, fury ice-cold and precise. “This is my cousin’s law firm. He fed her father the playbook. He wants the conservatorship to delegitimize our bond before the year ends and before the estate transfers finalize.”
“Fucking goddamn it,” Evander growls in an uncharacteristic show of anger. He crawls over the bed and lays down next to Rosie, gathering her into his armsso that he’s spooning her as her whole body shakes. I stroke my fingers through her hair, thinking.
“Please don’t let them take me from you,” she whispers, and the plea breaks something in me. I leave my seated position to kneel in front of her. My forehead rests against hers and a tear slides down over her nose and onto my cheek.
“You’re our omega. Nothing will ever change that, Rosie. I won’t ever let anyone take you from us,” I vow. “Never.” My purr starts up in my chest and Evander’s instantly joins in.
“Neither will I,” Wyatt says, kneeling next to me. One of his large hands rubs over Rosie’s arm and the other rubs up and down my spine.
“Starlight.” Harlan grabs her attention with that word alone. “I told you to put your trust in me. Do you trust me?” She nods against my forehead. “Then look at me and trust that I will make all of this go away. Do you believe me?”
“Yes, alpha,” she agrees, and her scent lightens.
“I’m going to bury them in paperwork. My fucking cousin can choke to death on it,” Logan says savagely, and the sentiment leaves a small smile on Rosie’s face.
I press a kiss to her temple, reluctant as hell to move. “We have to get on this tonight though. Just a few calls, some filings. We’ll be back soon.”
Her hand fumbles out from the blankets, catching at my shirt. “Don’t be long,” she whispers.
“We won’t,” Wyatt promises. His voice is iron, but his hands are soft when he takes her hand and kisses the back gently. His words are low, dangerous, threaded with something that has nothing to do with law. “When this is over, Starlight, you'll never have to worry about any of them again. I promise."
Rose
Logan and Evander are the only two left. They stood to hand Harlan some stuff before he left and now they stand next to the bed. I can’t stop shaking. The idea that everything I went through—every ounce of freedom I fought for—can be stolen away just because one man decided I don’t deserve to choose my own fate?
It’s nauseating.
It’s infuriating.
It’s wrong.
