Page 145 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

Ethan’s other hand comes up, slowly. He cups the side of her face, his thumb resting on her cheekbone. She closes her eyes. A tear slips free, tracing a line down to where his thumb catches it.

“Eth,” she breathes.

That’s when it happens.

It’s faint. So faint I almost miss it—a whisper beneath the old paper and leather of the library. Rain. Clean, cold rain on warm earth. And underneath it, a hint of crushed rose petals, soft and barely there, like a memory of a garden you walked through once and never forgot.

Sophie’s scent. Just a trace of it, slipping through the suppressants like light through a crack in a door.

Her eyes go wide. She feels it too—the faintest shift, as if her body has loosened its grip on something it’s been holding clenched for years. Her hand flies to her mouth.

“The suppressants—I don’t know why⁠—”

“I do,” I say quietly.

She looks at me. Then at Finn, who’s watching her with a look on his face that says he’d burn the world down if she asked. Then at Ethan, whose hand is still on her scar.

But none of us explains it because none of us has to. We all know what it means.

“Welcome home, little one,” I say softly.

Her face crumbles. Then a trembling smile breaks through, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Finn shifts closer, his shoulder pressing against hers. Her head tips sideways until it rests against Ethan, and Finn’s thumb traces slow circles on her knuckles, and the stars wheel above us through the skylight.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispers.

“You don’t have to know,” Finn says.

“Together,” Ethan adds quietly. His hand moves from her shoulder to her hair, and she lets him. He strokes it and her eyes close.

I don’t know how long we sit there. Long enough that the room goes quiet and the only sound is her breathing, growing slower. The small muscles around her eyes relax and her lips part slightly. Her hand, still holding Finn’s, goes slack.

She’s asleep.

And that’s how I know, for the first time, that she trusts us.

CHAPTER 38

Sophie

The brightness wakes me.

Sunlight, warm and gold, presses through a gap in the curtains and falls across my face. For a moment I don’t know where I am. The bed is too big and too soft, and I’m wearing a cashmere sweater that isn’t mine.

Then it all comes back.

I love you, Sophie.

The scars. Ethan’s gentle hand on my shoulder, and this time I stayed.

I told them everything, and none of them left.

You’re safe with us, Sophie.

Then my scent slipping through the suppressants. Rain and crushed rose petals.

Welcome home, little one.