Chapter 174: Vanessa ’The Therapist’

Lorali

If you ever asked me how I intended on spending my January 5th, I would tell you maybe sipping a cocktail beneath a bright sun at a tropical beach somewhere, wearing oversized sunglasses and pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist.

I never, in a million years, thought I would be sitting on a stiff, vinyl couch in a waiting room lobby for pack counseling.

Look, everybody might be just as confused as I am about how I ended up here. Three days ago, I was supposed to be discharged from New Hope. I had my bags packed, my coat on, and my hand on the doorknob when the hospital administration hit me with a legal notice, they refused to discharge me unless I agreed to attend mandatory, court-ordered pack therapy. Apparently, Torin had already signed off on the paperwork to appease the Omega Council, meaning if I didn’t agree to sit in a room with these psycho males, I was going to remain under strict hospital psychiatric observation indefinitely.

And unfortunately, that simply could not happen. In two weeks, I have to be standing on the ice, winning my first national championship. Sure, first place might end up going to Zaitana because of her absurd luck (I’m just hating), but you get the gist, I have a title to claim, and I can’t do that locked in a ward.

So, here we were.

The entire Spade pack was gathered in the waiting room, and the quiet was absolute bliss. The silence was thick, uncomfortable, and heavy with tension. No one was speaking. No one was looking at each other. No one was being lovey-dovey. It was deeply satisfying to see that my damage was indeed holding strong.

I cast a sideways glance across the room. Walter and I were matching, both of us sporting fresh white bandages taped across our cheeks. Looking at the side of his face made my soul sing. He looked like a complete mess, and I couldn’t have been happier. The heavy frosted-glass door at the end of the lobby clicked open, and a woman in a tailored burgundy trouser suit stepped out holding a digital tablet.

"Spade Pack?" she called out smoothly.

We all stood up in a ragged, uncoordinated motion.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Vanessa," the woman introduced herself, offering us a warm, perfectly practiced therapist smile. "I am a senior licensed clinical psychologist and pack counselor. I specialize in high-conflict family dynamics, and I pride myself on maintaining a one hundred percent success rate in helping fractured packs unite."

One hundred percent? my mind snorted maliciously as I smoothed down my skirt. Well, Vanessa, darling... prepare yourself. That success rate is about to plummet down to ninety-nine by twelve o’clock. This whole thing is an absolute waste of time.

"Please, follow me inside," Vanessa instructed, gesturing down the hallway.

We filed into a large, quiet therapy room. The setup was aggressive in its neutrality: seven plush, armchair-style seats arranged in a tight, seamless circle on a thick Persian rug, with a single, separate armchair positioned near the white-board at the top of the room where Vanessa sat.

"You may pick your seats randomly," Vanessa said gently, taking her place at the head of the room.

Everyone scrambled to sit down. I instantly made a beeline for the chair on the absolute far edge of the circle, right near the door. I didn’t want to be surrounded by anyone, and I definitely didn’t want anyone sitting within striking distance of my personal space.

Once we were all seated, Vanessa tapped her stylus against her tablet, looking around the circle with an unnerving, hyper-focused gaze.

"So," Vanessa began, leaning back in her chair. "Your case file was personally transferred to my desk by Esmeralda Clegg from the Omega Council, and I must admit... I find it extremely interesting. A high-tier pack featuring two registered Omegas. I wonder how that’s working out? In all my years of practice, I have never seen a case quite like this."

Torin immediately sat up straighter, crossing his legs and adjusting his jacket cuffs with grace. "It’s working perfectly," Torin stated smoothly, his Alpha voice oozing fake confidence. "There’s absolutely no need to worry about us. The Council was extremely, fundamentally wrong to intervene."

I rolled my eyes so hard I almost strained a muscle. Look at him trying to hide the obvious. What a joke. And what is this business with the council? Am I here because of them or this Esmeralda?

Vanessa tilted her head, her eyes scanning Torin’s face before drifting over to the bandages plastered across Walter’s cheek, then landing squarely on mine.

"Well, Mr. Spade," Vanessa said dryly, "there has to be something wrong, considering two of your Omegas physically attacked each other on a commercial set not so long ago."

Torin’s mouth snapped shut. He went utterly rigid, his jaw working silently as he stared at the rug.

"I would like to dive much deeper into this subject," Vanessa continued, tapping her chin with her stylus. "I want to understand what specific triggers led to this violent outbreak." She shifted her focus entirely onto me. "Lorali... that’s your name, correct? You were raised at the Alma Academy?"

"Yeah," I muttered, crossing my arms tight over my chest.

"You know," Vanessa noted, her voice carrying a soft, probing tone, "it is highly unusual for an Alma-trained Omega to display such extreme characteristics of violence. Tell me what happened in that medical room, Lorali. Why did you attack Walter?"

Oh, you want a story? A sudden, wicked wave of inspiration hit my brain. Let’s give this woman a show. It’ll make this mind-numbing session a lot less boring.

I suddenly reached up, clutching my bandaged cheek with both hands, letting out a soft, shuddering gasp. My breathing turned shallow, and within three seconds, I forced a flood of warm, thick tears to fill my eyes and spill dramatically down my face.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Oril letting out a disgusted snort and violently rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. I suppressed a smirk, dialing the theatrics up to an eleven.

"I... I was just defending myself!" I sobbed, my voice trembling as I covered my mouth with a trembling hand. "I don’t want to blame anyone or anything... but I think... I think Walter felt as though I was taking away what he was good at! It was my very first commercial ad, and modeling is his sort of thing!"

I broke down into heavy, ragged weeping, burying my face in my hands.

"He... he attacked me first!" I wailed into the quiet room. "I tried to defend myself, and... and I cut him too deep!"

I lifted my head, my eyes wide, swimming with fake tears as I looked directly at Walter’s stunned face. "I’m so sorry!" I cried out, my voice cracking dramatically. "I’m so, so sorry, Walter! I didn’t mean to! I know I’m just the second Omega! I know I’m overstepping my boundaries!"

I suddenly slipped right off my armchair, letting my knees hit the plush Persian rug with a dramatic thud, collapsing onto my hands and knees in the middle of the circle. "I do not know what else I can do!" I sobbed, my shoulders shaking violently. "I know you hate me! I know you all want me gone!"

I glanced up through my tear-streaked eyelashes to gauge the room. Every single member of the Spade pack was staring at me with expressions ranging from confusion to utter, speechless horror. They knew I was putting on a gold-medal performance of pure bullshit.

But then I looked at Vanessa. Vanessa was leaning forward in her chair, her eyes soft, her mouth slightly open, looking at me with sympathy. She was buying every single word.

"Oh... those are some remarkably strong, repressed emotions you’re carrying there, Lorali," Vanessa murmured gently.

Oril threw his hands into the air, practically jumping out of his seat. "Oh, come ON!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "Where on earth did you get your license?! Can you not tell she is ACTING?!"

Vanessa blinked, startled by his burst of rage. "What?" I wiped a stray tear off my cheek with the back of my hand, sat back up on my heels, and let out a long, loud sigh. "I am acting," I said flatly, dropping the trembling, tearful act instantly. I looked over at Oril. "Goddess, for the very first time in my life, I actually agree with you, Oril. Where did she get her license?"