Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Vivian
Things are getting intense. Obviously it has already been but I'm worried about Riot. He's barely hanging on and each decision he makes seems to weigh on him heavily.
He snuck me some bread again, and I ate it immediately while he was groaning about how hungry he was. I can only imagine how much he eats on a daily basis.
He's starting to look worse for wear, which can only mean I look terrible. Riot hasn't been tossed around his cell nor has anyone laid a hand on him since the first day.
Those bruises around his blue eyes are due to exhaustion while mine are mostly from the assholes who visit me. Riot has taken to staying awake as much as possible so he can keep an eye on me. I've freaked him out a few more times when I’ve sunk into the bonds.
The energy from my pack has leveled out to a reasonable thrum of determination and worry. Before, I was seriously worried about their sanity but being able to siphon their anxiety is a skill I'm grateful for. I just wish I could do the same for Riot.
"Why are you all the way over there?" he rumbles, scowling at me.
Glancing around, I realize I've curled myself up as far away from Riot as possible. I'm afraid to shrug because I know how much he hates it, but I don't know what else to say to him so I do it anyway.
He crosses his arms over his chest and glares. The question he pairs his body language with is ridiculous considering he looks angry as hell. "Are you scared of me?"
I shake my head no. I'm not scared of Riot, but I'm aware I only make his mood worse. He doesn't need to see my bruises and the chills prickling my skin. The scowl he gives my body is enough; he doesn't need more detail.
"Damn it, Omega. Come here then." He beckons me forward. The tightness in his features makes me hesitate to obey. How do I know if going to him will make him feel better? That's all I want to do—keep him from going feral.
I'm practically buzzing with the energy from my mates in preparation to run out of here when I can, but I'm worried if I make Riot spiral, I will too.
The last thing we need is to get into another growling match.
Going back and forth from feeling like we're friends to being at each other’s throats is exhausting.
When we're friends, I don't feel like I want to rip someone’s throat out with my tiny fangs. He seems kinder and more patient when we're friends too. But when he's cranky, boy does he get fucking mean and impatient.
I CAN'T TALK! I want to shout at him. It's almost more annoying than the pitying looks from strangers.
Maybe if he fucking looked inward then he could feel me.
That's what my pack does when I'm feeling exceptionally quiet.
But no, this fucking alpha doesn't seem to realize he has a vise grip on my damn arm and is yanking me every which way with his inability to manage his emotions.
I mean, fuck, did this guy ever learn emotional regulation? Return to sender - package is missing a vital piece, resulting in being an insufferable man who gives me whiplash!
"Vivian!"
Uh oh... Where's my phone? I need video proof to get my money back.
"I can feel the sass wafting off of you from here. Don't roll your eyes at me," he growls out a warning. Who knows what he thinks he's going to be able to do from his cell. Spank me?
"When we get out of here, I'll spank your ass bright red for the attitude, little Omega. Yeah, that's right. I can read you better than you think. Now get your ass over here so I can check on some of those deeper cuts."
Sighing, I climb to my feet and lock eyes with the stubborn man.
My nose twitches in response to his static scent.
Once I'm within reach of the bars, he snakes his arm through and hauls me close by the bicep his tether clings to.
His long black hair tickles my forehead as he bends within inches of my face. I stop breathing.
"I'm not a patient man, Firefly." Obviously. "But when it comes to you and your safety, I don't care about your independence. I'll snap and snarl until you listen to reason."
The fuck? My lip twitches with annoyance. Where the hell is this coming from now? I don't like it. It sounds like something Kade and Jarek would say when I've gone against a safety rule.
Which, speaking of, I'm in for a world of trouble if I get out of here. They're going to be so mad that I left the grocery store. I won't need to worry about Riot spanking me; my three mates will have first dibs for sure.
"I can see I've lost you again in that pretty head of yours," Riot rumbles, pulling me from my dreadful thoughts.
I finally take a shaky inhale when he releases me and maneuvers me around to check my scrapes and bruises.
Fire licks up my back when his rough fingers graze along the curve of my spine.
"They will die for this bruise alone." The low growl in his throat vibrates through me, driving heat to my cheeks and other places I'm not willing to acknowledge. Except, there's no hiding an omega's scent of arousal when within inches of a powerful alpha. "Fuck," he grunts and steps away from me.
I feel his absence like a freezing dump of water over my bare skin.
I knew I shouldn't have come over here, but it wasn't for my sake to begin with.
Now I'm embarrassed and more than a little ashamed of my body's reaction to him.
His touch is electrifying and warm in this freezing and terrifying place.
Turning away from Riot, I hide my blush and deep frown. When his scent amps up with an obvious tinge of burnt ash, I scowl. Why the hell can't he control his anger?!
"Fucking A!" he shouts, and a loud bang startles me. Whirling around, I'm not sure why my teeth are already bared but I'm on the defensive whether I like it or not. Riot brings the fight out in me.
I watch with my heart in my throat and my hands fisted at my sides as he slams his shoulder into the door of his cell.
"LET. US. OUT!" he bellows, pure rage and agony ripping through the air with each thrust against the bars.
He would rather dislocate his shoulder than spend another minute with me and my scent.
My gut roils as I watch his strong shoulder begin to buckle, but he doesn't stop.
Annoyance at his stupidity drives me forward.
Using my bruised arm, I reach into his cell and try to stop him.
Except Riot's much stronger than I am, and when I grab his shoulder, all I do is cushion the blow with my hand.
Crushing pain spears through every inch of my hand and up my arm. "AHH!" I shout. The barrier holding my voice back is broken by the agony in my small bones.
"What the fuck, Vivian?!" Riot screams.
He tries to grab me, but I'm already crumpling to my knees and holding my trembling hand to my chest. Tears stream down my face; I don't need a mirror to tell me how much either. The sob that springs forth kind of feels like a release and a cry for help all wrapped in one gut-wrenching heave.
"Oh my fuck." Riot continues to murmur obscenities and apparently still on the path to dislocating his damn shoulder as he tries to reach me through the bars. "Why the hell would you do that?!"
Feeling his horror and exasperation for the millionth time since we've been here breaks something inside of me.
It's no longer his fault that I can't get my shit under control because I'm the one stressing him out.
Me. It's all because of me. Maybe he would have escaped by now if I weren't here distracting him.
He wouldn't even be in this mess had I not approached him and acted like a weirdo.
"Vivian!" he snaps, blue eyes dark and angry. "Give me your fucking hand, you infuriating woman!"
Like a strike to the soul, his words unleash the statement my pack has worked years to scrub from my vocabulary. "I'm sorry," I cry out and bow my head as my shoulders tremble with back-breaking sobs.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!