"I will never be grateful for survival," she continues, voice quiet but unyielding. "But I will use it. Every fucking second of it. Every ounce of pain, every scar, every time I wake up screaming—I will use it to destroy men like you."
Blaine opens his mouth, but Charlotte cuts him off, eyes blazing.
"You want me silent? You want me afraid? You should've killed me when you had me in your clutches."
The crowd has gone still. There's no mistaking the ripple now. Cameras. Eyes. Recordings. Yep, there are people with their cellphones out. Good. Let them see this motherfucker squirm.
Charlotte smiles again, but it's ice and fire all at once. I've never been more attracted to her than in this moment, her strength radiating like a goddamn supernova.
"Smile for the press, Senator," she purrs. "Your legacy's being rewritten in real time. It was nice speaking to you again. It was definitely not a pleasure."
And she turns her back on him as he curses under his breath. Like a fucking queen.
CHAPTER 23
DEACON
“This won’t end the way you think, Ms. Matthews,” Senator Blaine calls after her, desperate for the last word to save face. Honestly, the shots were fired, and he didn't stand a chance.
The weight of Charlotte's hand radiates through me as we guide her away from that pompous bastard. Blaine's threat hangs in the air like a toxic cloud, and I can feel my pack brothers' tension match my own. My jaw aches from clenching it so hard, fighting back the instinct to turn around and snap the Senator's neck in front of his elite audience.
"I'm counting on it, Senator," Charlotte throws back, voice stronger, never faltering throughout theentire exchange. Pride warms my chest—our Omega has steel in her spine. Ours.
We move in synchronized formation toward the exit, years of military training making us function as a single organism. I catch Teagan's eye briefly, his expression mirroring my concern. The comm in my ear crackles to life just as we reach the door.
"Trigger, sir, we've got a swarm of paparazzi waiting out here. It's like they've been summoned," one of our men from outside says frantically.
Joker's curse cuts through the air. "That motherfucker. So that's his game." He turns to Charlotte, frustration evident in his scent, rain turning to storm.
"Charlotte—"
"It's not your fault," she interrupts, her voice hollow. "I should've figured this out as well. Me being here just adds to his narrative. Simple and fucking effective."
Her resigned words awaken something primitive inside my chest. The scent of incense thickens around us as my anger builds. I want to burn this place to the ground with everyone in it—everyone except the woman who's become the center of our world in such a short time.
Teagan steps forward, already on his phonecalling for our car. "Say nothing. Give them nothing, Char."
Beaux's energy is barely contained as he speaks. "If the enemy wasn't at our backs, I would propose we find another out. But we won't let the asshole see you retreat." His fierce gaze meets Charlotte's. "Chin up, Harley, and let's get you the hell out of here."
Without a word, Teagan and I position ourselves at the front, creating a protective wall. Charlotte and Joker slide into the middle of our formation, with Beaux guarding the rear. I can feel Joker's anxiety spike, his rain-scent turning sharper like ozone before a thunderstorm.
"Keep it tight," Teagan commands as the doors swing open.
The assault is immediate—camera flashes like lightning strikes, voices overlapping in a chaotic barrage. I keep my focus ahead, shoulders squared, creating as much of a shield as possible around Charlotte.
"Charlotte, was your kidnapping a ruse?" someone shouts from my left.
Another voice pierces through: "Charlotte, where were you? How many Omegas were held captive with you?"
I keep my expression neutral, though inside I'mseething. These vultures have no idea what she's been through—what we've all endured to bring her back. Each question is another knife, and I can feel Charlotte's distress through her scent, the honey and cinnamon turning bitter.
"Charlotte, are you supporting Senator Blaine's initiatives? Is this why you're here? Do you believe now that you've been a victim yourself, that these new safeguards are just?"
Charlotte falters beside me, her step hitching almost imperceptibly. My heart races as I think she might answer, might give these jackals exactly what they want. But Joker—thank God for him—pulls her into the waiting limousine. Beaux follows quickly, and I slide in last, immediately slamming the door against the cacophony outside.
As the soundproofed interior envelops us in blessed silence, I watch Charlotte's shoulders slump. The honey and cinnamon of her scent is muted now, overshadowed by the acrid smell of distress. I catch Teagan's eye across from me, his jaw tight, fingers drumming against his thigh.
"Fuck," Beaux breathes out, breaking the silence. "They were waiting for us. That was a goddamn setup."
