chapter 57
Tori's POV:
I closed my dorm room door behind me, leaning against it with a deep exhale.
The scent of Lucas still clung to my clothes from the car ride.
It was becoming harder to ignore how my wolf Tracy perked up whenever he was near, a reaction I couldn't understand or control.
I couldn't keep putting this off.
I grabbed my phone and opened a new message to Lucas. I needed to set clear boundaries between us. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, struggling to find the right words that wouldn't sound ungrateful after all his help.
Before I could type anything, my phone screen lit up with Morgan's incoming call."
"Hey," I answered.
"Tori! I've been thinking," Morgan's voice bubbled with excitement. "Finals are next week, and then we have winter break. What are your plans?"
I sat on my bed, considering the question. "I promised my grandmother I'd visit her."
"What? Does that mean I won't see you for the entire break?" Her disappointment was palpable even through the phone.
"I haven't been back for a long time, Morgan. She's not well."
"I understand," she sighed dramatically.
"But before you go, we should celebrate surviving finals! There's this new club called Enchanted that everyone's talking about—"
"No," I cut her off firmly. "Absolutely not."
"Come on, Tori! Live a little!"
"Morgan, clubs are dangerous for young wolves, especially female like you. There are males who prey on—"
"Not every male is a predator," she protested.
"One bad encounter is all it takes," I said quietly, memories of Noah Morris and that night four years ago flashing through my mind. "Promise me you won't go alone."
"Fine," she groaned. "Yu're missing out on all the fun."
We talked about finals for a while before hanging up.
I tried to focus on studying, but my mind kept drifting between Lucas's strange behavior and Morgan's recklessness.
---
The harsh ring of my phone jolted me awake.
The digital clock read 1:42 AM.
"Hello?" I answered groggily.
"Is this Tori?" a male voice I didn't recognize asked.
"Yes. Who's this?"
"Look, your friend Morgan is drunk at Enchanted Club. She keeps saying your name, and I found your number in her phone. You should come get her before she gets into trouble."
My blood ran cold. "I'll be right there."
I threw on jeans and a hoodie, grabbed my wallet, and rushed out.
Twenty minutes later, I stood outside the club.
Bass-heavy music pulsed from within, and the mingled scents of alcohol, perfume, and pheromones assaulted my sensitive nose.
I steeled myself and pushed through the entrance.
Inside was chaos—flashing lights, dancing bodies, and the overwhelming cacophony of heartbeats, conversations, and music.
I forced myself to focus, filtering through the sensory overload to search for Morgan's familiar scent of honeysuckle and sunshine.
I found her at the bar, giggling as she tried to order another drink.
Her movements were uncoordinated, her eyes unfocused.
"Morgan," I gripped her arm. "We're leaving."
She turned to me with a wide, sloppy grin. "Tori! You came to party!"
"No, I came to take you home. You're drunk."
"I'm not drunk," she slurred, then hiccupped. "Okay, maybe a little. But it's fun!"
"It's dangerous," I hissed, tugging her arm. "Let's go."
"Nooo," she whined, pulling away. "I'm having fun. Just one more drink!"
As I tried reasoning with her, a faint cry for help reached my ears, barely audible over the music.
But my hearing caught it clearly.
I hesitated, glancing at Morgan's unsteady form. Getting involved might bring trouble, especially for someone with my history. But the desperation in that voice tugged at something inside me.
"Stay here," I told Morgan firmly, guiding her to sit on a barstool. "Don't move."
I followed the sound to a hallway leading to private rooms.
The scent of fear grew stronger—acrid and sharp—mixing with the unmistakable aggressive musk of males."
Another plea for help, followed by cruel laughter.
I peered around the corner and saw a young woman surrounded by three men outside one of the VIP rooms.
With a jolt, I recognized her—Sophia Morris, Noah's younger sister.
And I recognized the men too—they were friends of Noah, privileged young males who had been with him that night four years ago.
I retreated around the corner, heart pounding.
This wasn't my problem. Getting involved with anything connected to the Morris family had already cost me four years of my life. I should walk away, get Morgan, and leave.
Follow your heart, Tracy sighed within me. You've never been one to walk away when someone needs help.
I closed my eyes briefly, knowing Tracy was right.
I couldn't leave Sophia to face those predators alone, not when I knew exactly what they were capable of.
But confronting three aggressive males directly would be suicide for an Omega like me. I needed to be smarter than that.
My gaze landed on the fire alarm mounted on the wall nearby, a small smoke detector positioned just above it.
A plan began forming in my mind."
I made my way back to Morgan, who was now resting her head on the bar.
"Morgan, I need you to stay right here. Don't move, okay? I'll be back in five minutes."
She mumbled something incoherent but didn't try to get up.
I moved quickly to the hallway again, assessing the situation.
Sophia was now backed against the wall, her blouse partially torn.
The tallest Alpha—I recognized him as Noah's friend Trent—had his hand on the wall beside her head.
"Come on, sweetheart," he was saying, "your brother and I were tight. Consider this... honoring his memory."
"Please," Sophia whispered, "I just want to go home."
"We're just getting started," another male sneered, reaching for her arm.
I struck a match and held it under the smoke detector, just out of sight around the corner.
The alarm blared immediately, and sprinklers activated throughout the club. Screams and chaos erupted as patrons rushed toward the exits.
"Fire!" someone shouted nearby. "Everyone out!"
"Fuck this," Trent growled, wiping water from his face.
"Let's get out of here. You got lucky tonight, sweetheart," he sneered at Sophia. "We'll finish our conversation another time."
"Move!" the second male shouted, pushing toward the exit. "I'm not dying in this shithole."
The third one glanced back at Sophia with a predatory smile. "This isn't over, Morris."
They pushed past me without a second glance, joining the exodus. I rushed to Sophia, who was shaking and soaked from the sprinklers.
"Sophia," I said softly, "it's me, Tori. Let me help you."
She looked up, recognition slowly dawning in her tear-filled eyes. "Tori? Sullivan?"
I nodded, slipping off my jacket and draping it around her shoulders. "We need to go. Can you walk?"
She nodded mutely.
I guided her through the chaos to Morgan, who was now wide-eyed and more alert from the cold sprinkler water.
"What's happening?" Morgan asked, wobbling as she stood.
"Fire alarm," I explained, taking her arm. "We're leaving. Now."
Together, we made our way outside and away from the club. I ordered a car, and we huddled together on the sidewalk, waiting.
"I can't go home like this," Sophia whispered, clutching my jacket around herself. "My mother will kill me."
"You can stay in my dorm tonight," I offered. "Both of you."
---
Back at my dorm, I gave Sophia some clean clothes and helped Morgan into dry ones.
Morgan promptly collapsed onto my bed, falling asleep instantly. Sophia sat on my desk chair, still trembling slightly.
"Should I call someone for you?" I asked. "Your family?"
She shook her head.
"My mom only cares about my brother, even now that he's gone. And my father..." her voice broke. "He's been in a coma since a accident last week."
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.
"Everyone says I look like him," she whispered. "Noah, I mean. That's why my mother can't stand to look at me."
She glanced up at me. "You remind me of someone too."
"Who?"
"Ryan. He used to look out for me before..." she trailed off, tears welling in her eyes.