Chapter 8

Amber

Three days.

It had been three days since Rayne rejected me, and I felt like the world had ended.

I’d barely left my room, only stepping out when I absolutely had to. The brief trips to the bathroom or the kitchen were excruciating—I avoided eye contact, ignored the curious glances, and hurried back before anyone could ask me anything. Even the thought of another Omega stopping me for a casual conversation made my chest tighten with anxiety.

The tiny space in the shelter had become my prison, the walls closing in around me with every passing moment. I stared at the cracks in the ceiling, the chipped paint on the walls, and the worn floorboards, and I felt like I was suffocating. Everything was too much, but at the same time, nothing mattered anymore.

Rayne’s cold, cutting words replayed in my head like a broken record. “I don’t want you, Amber. I never did.” The way he’d thrown money at me, like I was something to be bought off, made me feel smaller than I already was.

Tears streamed down my face as I curled into a ball on the thin mat. I clutched my stomach, my fingers trembling as they rested over the small, growing life inside me.

I’d lost everything.

Reed, the only person who had ever cared about me, the only friend I’d ever had, was gone. He hated me now, and I couldn’t even blame him. I hated myself too.

Rayne, my mate, wanted nothing to do with me. He hadn’t even given me a chance to tell him about the pregnancy. And if he did know… my stomach churned at the thought. The way he’d rejected me so cruelly made me certain he would have forced me to get rid of the pup if he knew.

I wished I could go back in time and stop myself from ever going to that damn party. If I had just stayed in, stayed safe in the shadows where I belonged, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have betrayed Reed, wouldn’t have been marked, wouldn’t be here now, alone and pregnant, with no idea what to do.

I buried my face in my pillow, sobbing softly. “I just want it all to go away,” I whispered to no one in particular.

“Amber, enough,” Irma’s voice cut through my despair, sharp and unrelenting.

I groaned and pressed my face deeper into the pillow. “Leave me alone.”

“No,” she snapped. “You’ve been lying here crying for three days. This isn’t good for you, and it’s not good for the pup.”

Her words sent a fresh wave of guilt through me, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond.

“You’re stronger than this,” she continued, her tone firm. “You need to stop wallowing and start thinking about what comes next.”

“What comes next?” I repeated bitterly. “There is no next, Irma. My life is over.”

“It’s not over,” she said, softer now. “You still have a future. You just need to pull yourself together and figure it out.”

I stayed silent, the weight of her words pressing down on me.

“It’s almost morning,” she said. “Go to school. Get out of this room. Get out of this shelter. You need air, Amber. You need a distraction.”

The thought of school made my stomach churn. “I can’t,” I whispered. “What if I see Reed?”

“Then avoid him,” Irma said matter-of-factly. “But hiding isn’t going to fix anything. If you stay here, you’ll just keep spiraling.”

She was right, as much as I hated to admit it. I couldn’t keep hiding.

Reluctantly, I sat up, my body heavy with exhaustion. Grabbing a towel, I left my room and made my way to the shelter’s shared bathroom. The air was damp and cold, the tiled floor freezing against my bare feet. The water was ice cold, making me shiver, but it felt refreshing as it washed over me, rinsing away the sweat and grime of the last few days.

When I was done, I wrapped myself in a thin towel and stepped into the hallway, keeping my head down as I made my way back to my room.

“Amber,” a familiar voice called, stopping me in my tracks.

I turned slowly to see Marilyn, one of the older Omegas in the shelter. She was beautiful, her platinum blonde hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, her hazel eyes sharp and observant. Marilyn always had an air of authority about her, and right now, her gaze was locked on me with unsettling intensity.

“Yes?” I asked hesitantly.

Her eyes flicked to my neck, and I realized with a jolt of panic that I’d forgotten to put on a scent patch.

“What’s that?” she asked, her tone cool.

I instinctively raised a hand to cover the bond mark. “It’s nothing,” I said quickly.

“Nothing?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a mate mark. What are you still doing here if you’re mated?”

My mind raced, searching for an explanation. “It’s… complicated,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

Her frown deepened as she stepped closer, her hazel eyes narrowing. “Complicated? Figure it out, Amber. We don’t need dead weight around here.”

The words stung, but I forced myself to keep my composure. “What do you mean by dead weight?”

Marilyn crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

My stomach dropped. “What? No, I’m not—”

“Don’t bother lying,” she interrupted, her tone sharp. “The others might not notice because of that scent patch you’re always wearing, but I’ve seen the way you move. The way you hold your stomach without realizing it. I wasn’t sure before, but now that I can smell you without the patch, I’m a hundred percent certain.”

“Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Marilyn shrugged, her expression indifferent. “I don’t have to. Pregnancy isn’t something you can hide, Amber. It’s only a matter of time before everyone knows.”

Her words were a dagger to my chest, but she wasn’t done.

“Sort yourself out,” she said bluntly. “Pregnant Omegas and Omegas with young kids aren’t allowed to stay here. They’re a nuisance to the rest of us, and you know it.”