Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
Vivian
My heat broke a few days ago. Since then, our theory has been proven right. Riot releasing my arm a bit has provided me the space to feel his emotions appropriately.
There are times I miss him. When he was angry or couldn't sleep, it left no room for me to struggle with my own shit. Riot was my escape. I know it wasn't healthy, just like the way I used the bond with my mates, but that was all I knew.
Things have shifted in me for the better. I feel less unsettled and am spending less time in the bonds. My mates haven't changed, but I have. I can see their actions and hear their words for what they are: the truth.
They show me every minute of every day how much they love me and enjoy me. Our bond isn't one of obligation because fate matched us. No. We've worked hard for a long time to build a family based on trust and strength. Our support for one another is unmatched and constantly motivating.
Something else has changed too. Silas made a comment about Riot bringing out my feral gene a while ago. I've done something I've never wanted to do before...I researched.
After many articles and avoiding the guys' questions, I learned that depression, anxiety, childhood neglect and trauma, and adulthood trauma can trigger a recessive feral gene.
Just one of those things could trigger it actually, and I've had it all.
It exists. In many cases in today's society, there are functional ferals, we're just not talked about.
Our teeth are sharper, but not enough to draw too much attention. Our episodes, as they call it online, are usually provoked by whatever mental health disorders we suffer from.
An example I found was related to obsessive-compulsive disorder. If their routine or space was disrupted, that individual might hiss, growl, and even attack whoever triggered them.
I've deduced my trigger is mainly feeling overwhelmed, which makes sense because the bond I have with my pack is all-consuming. I can only handle so much.
Add in my angry, slightly unhinged, morally gray alpha?
Well, I'm a bit sharper than I used to be.
Sassy Jarek calls me. Feral is what Silas says with a thoughtful look on his face each time.
Kade just observes and reminds me they're not a threat, and even if they're bothering me, I can't fight them.
Riot's usually amused, probably because my growls are no longer getting me into trouble.
I thought the idea of being this modern day feral omega would be offensive, but...well...Nana's voice is always reminding me that being different doesn't mean I'm wrong.
I actually think it's pretty cool. This whole confidence thing is a bit foreign, but now that I'm fully accepting my edge, I feel good. It's like having my own monster battling the depression away.
That's not to say I'm cured in any manner. I'm just a bit spicier now. Some of it is Riot's anger and antsiness rubbing off on me, but maybe that's not a bad thing.
It sure helps me react in a whole new light as I catch Riot on the phone with none other than Trent, the dangerous man who helped rescue me and many other people held captive on that hellish property.
On my knees in our home gym, listening quietly to his side of the conversation, I feel my mind working in a strategic way instead of an emotional one.
It doesn't take a genius to realize he's plotting. Honestly, I knew something was going on when he went to the basement right after breakfast. His bond is still a bit closed off, so it makes sense that he's able to hide his plans from us.
Of course there's one more thing keeping us from a stressless life. I know Riot well enough to know that's exactly how he feels about the boss of those traffickers still out there.
His voice starts off hard and demanding, but quickly turns heartfelt and pleading.
"I don't fucking care if I'll have more blood on my hands.
As far as I'm concerned, it would be a fucking trophy.
Give me a time and let me do this. For Vivian, I have to do this.
For me. I won't be able to rest, man. Just tell me. Please."
Riot's speech, even on the other side of the wall to his bedroom, is full of so much emotion it makes my chest tight.
Riot needs this.
"She's my omega to avenge, Trent. I don't want your hands on the bastard that hurt my mate. His death is mine and mine alone."
Oh, be still my beating, feral heart.
Something about the way he speaks and the words he's saying has my omega sitting up straight and cocking her head. The low timbre and dominant energy of my alpha make my teeth ache and my throat bob, ready to growl.
"Fine. Pick me up down the road so we don't wake them up. Two in the morning? Sure. I'll find my own weapon, thanks though. No, don't tell Kade. I'm doing this to protect them. Yep. See you soon."
Calling on my ability to mute my scent and hide my presence, I don't move from my position in the gym. Riot won't be able to see me unless he comes in here, but it's no matter. Agitated, he wrenches his old bedroom door open and stomps upstairs.
I sit for a long while in the silent darkness. Part of my healing and growth has been to study my emotions, and what I find right now would definitely concern my mates.
Pushing contentment and sleepiness to the forefront, I mask the bloodlust that surprises me.
Riot's determination to do this for me makes me all warm and tingly.
The fact that he's not including our men makes me love him even more.
He's keeping us safe and uninvolved in what can only be described as murder.
No matter how much this monster deserves to die, Riot shouldn't lawfully be the one to do it.
Yet, the grin I've been sitting with doesn't care. My alpha is strong, and according to the feral spark I've been thriving in all morning, his morally grey tendencies are hot as fuck.
I may be sad and depressed a lot of the time, but I've never hidden my fangs. Maybe when the softer side of me creeps back in, I'll be pissed and horrified, but not right now.
My only issue with his plan is that I’m not invited.