chapter 68
Tori's POV:
I saw Trent's body fly backward and crash into the wall with a sickening thud, his head lolling to one side as he slumped unconscious to the floor.
My breath caught in my throat as I turned toward the voice that had just saved me.
Lucas Grayson stood in the hallway, his powerful frame radiating fury, silver eyes gleaming with predatory intensity.
His Alpha presence exploded outward—raw power filling the space like a physical force. Daniel, who had begun to shift in response to the confrontation, crumpled to the floor unconscious.
My own knees buckled, and I staggered backward, the overwhelming pressure making it hard to breathe.
Lucas moved with inhuman speed, catching me before I fell. His arm wrapped securely around my waist, steadying me against his solid frame.
Almost immediately, I felt him pull his power back in, reining in the crushing aura that had threatened to suffocate everyone in the vicinity.
"Are you hurt?" Lucas asked, his voice deceptively calm as he held me.
I stared at him, my mind struggling to process everything.
How did he know to be here? The questions swirled in my head.
Over Lucas's shoulder, I spotted Jason—Morgan's brother—hovering anxiously in the background. His eyes met mine briefly, confirming I was alright, he immediately turned and hurried toward the private room to check on Morgan's safety.
The adrenaline that had kept me standing through the confrontation with Trent was beginning to fade, leaving my limbs shaky and weak.
"Let's get you somewhere quiet," Lucas said, his voice gentler now as he stepped closer.
I meant to nod, to say something casual and dismissive. I was fine, after all. I'd handled worse. Much worse.
But when I opened my mouth, no words came out. Instead, I felt my carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble.
"Tori?" Lucas's brow furrowed as he studied my face. "You're trembling."
Was I? I looked down at my hands and realized he was right.
They were shaking uncontrollably, and the tremors were spreading through my entire body. My throat tightened painfully as four years of suppressed fear and trauma suddenly rushed to the surface.
"I—" My voice broke, and to my horror, I felt hot tears spill down my cheeks. "I'm sorry—I don't—"
It was almost like that scene from four years ago was about to replay itself.
The helplessness, the fear, the violence—it all came rushing back in vivid, horrifying detail. If Lucas hadn't arrived when he did... I couldn't even finish the thought.
The tears came in torrents as I clung to his shirt, burying my face against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear, his arms a protective cage around me.
"It's alright," he murmured, one hand moving to cradle the back of my head. "You're safe now. I've got you."
I don't know how long we stayed like that, me sobbing into his shirt while he held me steady.
Eventually, the tears subsided, leaving me hollow and exhausted.
"Come on," Lucas said quietly. "I'm taking you home."
I watched as he gestured to someone behind him—security guards who quickly moved to restrain Trent's unconscious form.
"Take him to the holding cells," Lucas commanded. "I'll deal with him later."
The guards nodded respectfully, dragging Trent away while Lucas turned his attention back to me. His expression softened minutely, though the dangerous edge never fully disappeared from his eyes.
My vision blurred at the edges, and I felt the room begin to spin.
"I don't feel..." I mumbled, my words slurring as my eyelids grew impossibly heavy.
Then darkness swept in, and I surrendered to the pull of exhaustion, my consciousness fading as I went limp in his protective embrace.
---
Soft morning light filtered through unfamiliar curtains, gently pulling me from sleep.
I blinked slowly, disoriented by the plush comfort surrounding me.
This wasn't my dorm room—the bed was too large, too comfortable, the sheets too luxurious against my skin.
I sat up quickly, memories of the previous night flooding back in fragments.
The restaurant. Trent. Lucas. My embarrassing breakdown. After that, things became hazier. I vaguely recalled being guided into a car, Lucas's voice a low, soothing murmur as I drifted in and out of consciousness.
Looking around, I took in the elegant simplicity of the bedroom.
Large windows framed by heavy curtains, tasteful furniture in warm wood tones, and subtle, masculine touches that made it clear whose room this was.
The entire space smelled of him—that distinctive cedar and mint scent that made Tracy stir with interest.
Lucas's bedroom, I realized with a jolt. I was in Lucas Grayson's bed.
I pushed back the covers, relieved to find I was still wearing my clothes from yesterday, though someone had removed my shoes.
My face burned at the thought of Lucas seeing me so vulnerable, so completely undone.
I, who had survived four years in Silver Fang, had broken down sobbing in his arms like a child.
A soft knock at the door interrupted my mortified thoughts.
"Come in," I called, quickly smoothing my hair and straightening my rumpled clothes.
The door opened to reveal an older woman with silver-streaked brown hair and kind eyes.
She carried a tray with what appeared to be breakfast, and her expression brightened when she saw me awake.
"Good morning, dear," she greeted warmly. "I'm Margaret Wilson, Alpha's housekeeper. I've brought you some breakfast."
"Thank you," I replied awkwardly, watching as she set the tray on the bedside table. "I'm Tori Sullivan."
"Oh, I know who you are," she said with a knowing smile that made me instantly uncomfortable. "Alpha was quite concerned about you last night."
My cheeks heated further. "I should go. I don't want to impose."
Margaret waved away my protest.
"Nonsense. Mr. Grayson rarely brings anyone here. This is his private residence, not the Grayson estate." She adjusted the curtains, letting in more light. "He must think very highly of you."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I focused on the tray instead.
A steaming bowl of what looked like porridge with delicate purple flowers floating on top caught my attention.
"Moon lily porridge," Margaret explained, following my gaze. "Very nourishing, especially for Omegas who've had a shock. And the tea is a special blend—helps calm the nerves."
"Thank you," I repeated, genuinely touched by her thoughtfulness.
Margaret studied me with unusual intensity.
"If you don't mind my saying, dear, you two are so perfectly matched. I've never seen Mr. Grayson so concerned about anyone before. The way he looked at you..." She smiled warmly. "Some pairs just fit together naturally, don't they?"
"No, really," I insisted, my face now burning. " We're not... together."
Despite my protests, I couldn't completely suppress the small flutter of warmth in my chest at her words.
Unlike the usual judgment about status differences between Alphas and Omegas, Margaret's comment held nothing but genuine approval.
Tracy practically purred at the thought, forcing me to mentally silence her enthusiasm before my expression betrayed me.
Margaret patted my hand indulgently. "Whatever you say, dear. The bathroom is through that door if you'd like to freshen up. Alpha left some fresh clothes for you on the counter."
Before I could protest further, she was gone, leaving me with my embarrassment and the fragrant breakfast. Tracy, my wolf, seemed entirely too pleased with the situation, practically preening at the idea of being in Lucas's private space.
Quiet, you, I mentally scolded her.
After finishing the surprisingly delicious porridge, I showered quickly, trying not to think about whose shower I was using or how his scent surrounded me completely in this space.
Once dressed, I ventured downstairs.
Lucas leaned against the counter, talking quietly on his phone. He looked up when I entered, his silver eyes immediately finding mine.
"I'll call you back," he said into the phone before ending the call.
"Good morning, Tori. How did you sleep?"