Chapter 32
thirty-two
brIAR
A dull buzz snaps under my skin as I shuffle into the foyer.
I’ve always loved this feeling—the weight of physical exhaustion and the mental clarity that somehow accompanies it. My body is tired, but content. The aches in my joints aren’t painful so much as reassuring.
I’m still here.
I can still dance the way I used to, for the most part.
And, if Cillian’s rapt attention through every twirl and dip is any indication, I haven’t lost my touch.
He watched until the candles started to burn themselves out, silently spectating as one song bled into another. And another.
After what felt like hours, I glanced over and found he’d disappeared.
I stood in the center of the grand, gilded ballroom, breathing hard in the rose-tinged moonlight. What the hell just happened? Why didn’t he try to take me?
And why am I… disappointed?
My fingers rub at the satin slippers he left for me, noting a familiar scuff on the side of the left one. The slight fray to the ribbon on the right. And there, inked on the worn soles. brB—my old initials.
And new initials, too.
Did he like that? And how the hell did he get a pair of my old pointe shoes in the first place? How long has he had them?
A frisson runs down my spine, interrupting my brooding. My head snaps up. The mystery of Cillian Blackwood fades to the background as a new puzzle steps out of the shadowed corridor opposite the one I’m lingering in.
Dane.
I notice the mask first. After spending the morning with access to his whole face, the metal and mesh feel like a fence in front of a garden.
It’s doubly cruel, I think, because he has his hair tied back. But instead of the strong angle of his jaw, I only see titanium and gold, blazing brightly as he stares across the foyer.
He looks different. Aside from the intensity beaming from his eyes, the rest of him seems… empty. His broad shoulders slump forward as his hands twitch at his sides. I find myself disgruntled when I note that his dark green Henley covers his scarred and inked arms.
Worry worms into my middle. We should go to him. Make sure he’s okay, my Omega whispers.
I start to, but Dane suddenly snarls. “No, Briar.”
The command halts me immediately, but I can tell he feels guilty about it. Especially when his tone softens. “Seriously. Don’t.”
I blink, trying to understand. He liked being touched earlier. And he looks wrong. Doesn’t he need me to—
The big man shifts on his feet. A shaft of cool moonlight grazes his shirt, revealing several smears on the dark fabric.
My body shakes off his bark immediately, rushing closer. “Dane, is that blood? Are you hurt?”
The alpha growls, his brawny hand intercepting mine before I can lay a finger on him. He squeezes my wrist, the motion just to the right side of painful. Golden eyes seethe at me in the semi-dark.
“I said no,” he repeats. Quieter and more deadly. He shoves me back gently, his brows folding. “You need to go, little girl. And stay the fuck away from me. Got it?”
The quiet bark is somehow more devastating than any shout could be. It hits my heart like a flaming arrow. A sharp stab, followed by a hot flare of humiliation.
He—he’s rejecting us, my Omega sniffles. But why? What did we do wrong?
I suppress the urge to recoil, holding my ground. Cataloging every flicker of feeling on his half-covered face. “What happened, Dane? I thought we were—”
Friends?
That word sounds so stupid, even in my head. So I’m not sure why a deep wash of pain floods my chest when his face reflects the same sentiment, creasing into a look of pure disgust.
The masked alpha leans closer, his motions controlled. So careful around me, the way Dane always has been.
But his chest heaves like he’s just run a marathon. Our eyes lock and something there softens… before shattering.
“None of us should be your friends, little girl,” he murmurs. “Least of all me.”
I can’t stand the fractured feelings all over his face. And only being able to see half of it?
I reach for the leather strap on his mask, unlatching the buckle. Dane breathes harder, the ragged sound audible, now. Mesh and metal fall away, revealing his scars. But I don’t notice them. I only see the pain pulling his lips into a grimace.
“I’m not safe for you, Briar,” he rasps, the words a whispered confession. “I’m not safe for anyone.”
I hear what he’s saying—and I believe him. This alpha is enormous. Emotionally damaged. Wearing someone else’s blood.
But I can’t quiet my Omega’s chants. Her promises that he is safe.
So I put my hand on his cheek. “That’s a choice you make, big man. I think you’d be the safest alpha in this house if you decided to be.”
His golden eyes bounce between mine, absorbing my words.
The woodsy scent rising off his throat swells, its undercurrent damp and dark.
“We never should have—” He shakes his head, the tendons in his neck bulging when he grinds his jaw.
“We never should have done this. I’m so fucking sorry I let them take you. ”
I don’t know if he’s referring to Cillian and his grandfather purchasing me in the first place, or letting his packmates have their respective nights with me. Either way, I find myself shaking my head right back at him. Scraping bitter words up my throat.
“This house is no worse than the one I grew up in.”
I have hot meals here. A library and the freedom to read about anything I desire. There are gardens for me to gaze at. And the ballroom Cillian just shared with me… the fact that he set it up so I could dance again…
Black memories circle ominously, like crows. My father’s laboratory. The empty dresser where Violet’s things used to reside. That stupid porcelain doll. The closet with the padlock.
Knock twice if you’re okay, Rosie.
A shiver rolls over me as realization hits.
In a lot of ways, this life is actually better.
But I won’t say that out loud. I barely let myself think it.
“It’s so much less than you deserve,” Dane rumbles. His calloused hand starts to reach for a stray tendril of hair that’s escaped my bun. We both notice the dark stains around his fingernails at the same moment.
The big man drops his hand to his side, fisting it as his teeth grit. I swallow hard, a potent blend of fear and something equally as arousing, but much more thrilling, swirls through me.
He really killed someone.
Why the hell aren’t I afraid of him?
I’m not sure. But I know one thing: as he lumbers back a step, putting distance between me and the danger, my heart somersaults.
The big man turns to go, his thick boots treading silently toward the stairs. A hard twitch moves through me, tweaking the taut muscles low in my belly. Curling my fingers around—
His mask.
He forgot I had it. Somehow, that thought puts a small smile on my face.
“Dane?”
He pauses at the bottom of the steps, angling his head to listen without turning around. I toss the metal piece anyway, knowing he’ll catch it. When he proves me right, his brawny hand snapping out to pluck it from thin air, I truly grin.
He looks so… cute. Hovering on the bottom step, blinking at his mask like he can’t quite believe he left it behind.
“You’re really not as scary as you believe you are,” I muse.
Dane finally turns to me, then. His striking eyes work their way over my face. “Yeah, I am,” he says. “You’re just stronger than you think.”