9. Aspyn
Chapter nine
Aspyn
A spyn Aged 15
“Will you get a look at Scar over here?” The sneering, snarling voice is loud, and everyone looks in his direction.
I flinch and duck my head, letting my hair fall over my face as I use the crutches to move me faster down the hall.
I’ve been back at school for a week.
The whispers are worse than the shouts. The hissing sounds I just catch are accompanied by stares and looks of horror or, worse, pity.
Everyone acts like I can’t hear them or see them. Like the accident affected my brain. Kids are so dumb, the teachers and parents are worse.
“I hear she killed her family.”
That is loud and clear, echoing around my head, streaking pain into my body. I hear it over and over. Until everyone is saying it. That hurts more than a million insults.
Partially because I feel like it’s true.
I didn’t think there was anything anyone could say to make me hurt more than I already do. Turns out I was wrong.
I slowly spin and limp out of the school. I’m not coming back.
My life, the one Mum has been trying to push me to return to, is over. It’s time to find my new place in the world.
P resent Day
Beau packs up all the biscuits and then turns off the stovetop, setting the bowl of tuna mornay and pasta down in front of me.
“Aren’t you staying?” I inquire softly, trying to hide my hope that he will say yes.
I don’t want to beg. That wouldn’t do at all.
“Not tonight, my love, but I’ll come back and have breakfast with you.”
That puts a dampener on my meal. I want him to stay with me, but then I always want them to stay with me. Loneliness is a silent killer. It steals your reasons for breathing, and I am lonely. Maybe that’s why I’m allowing them to be around me more than usual.
I’ve tried to stay away from them, and, a year ago, I tried to cut them off. Cold turkey. I stopped answering the door; I ignored phone calls and messages; the madness even had me changing the locks.
I hoped that they would find a pretty, able-bodied omega to love and stop wasting their time on me. I can’t give them a future.
But Shale’s brother Eben had rocked up, and the things he’d said, well, they had cut deep. But it was Shale’s fury, his icy rage that smacked into his brother that had me realising I couldn’t keep running. Eben had been cruel but not needlessly; I could see his point, I still can. It had broken my willpower.
So I re-established the boundaries. They could come and go, help me with my heats, but we were friends.
Except, I gave them an inch, and they stole a mile. Now they have these pet names that make my knees weak, and they pick me up and carry me around like I’m nothing. They massage my leg when it hurts, cook for me, are interested in what I do and have to say. Everything they used to do except so much more now. It’s like whatever held them back is gone.
But I can’t stop holding back, and that’s the truth. They don’t know the truth about me, and I’m scared to tell them. I am a defective omega in almost every way. What if…what if they hear what I say and decide I’m not worth having around?
Beau slaps his hand on the table.
“Stop it.”
I jerk my eyes to his face. He stares at me and then huffs and pulls out his phone.
“Sorry, Shale, I’m going to stay here-”
“Oh, no, Beau, I’m fine-” I protest.
“Yeah, text me when you’re done. Aspyn and I can come meet you if we’re up.”
He hangs up the phone, tilts my chin up, and kisses my lips. It’s the kisses that confuse me because I can’t say no. I crave their touch and their kisses. Crave them. Think about them, get flutters of excitement, pine over the memory of them.
I dream about those kisses.
“You didn’t have to do that, Beau,” I murmur when he pulls back.
“Yes, I did. I don’t want you to ever think I prefer being anywhere else but here. This is where I belong. We all do.”
I look down at my food, trying to hide the thick ball of emotion in my throat.
“Thank you,” I manage to choke out.
Beau picks up my fork and scoops some up and holds it for me. I blink a few times, but the image doesn’t vanish. A tiny part of me inside mewls and softens. I lean forward, opening my mouth and allowing the alpha who says I belong to him to feed me.
“You know, we’ve been friends for a long time, right?” Beau says softly. He’s perched on the table to my left, facing me, and it’s hard not to stare. His tattoos come down over his hands and onto his fingers, but they don’t hide the muscles or veins that run down his arms. And I am a sucker for forearms.
“We have,” I say belatedly.
“So, I just was curious about one teeny, tiny thing.”
I stare up at him. “Yes?”
He pulls out the card and lays it on the table. “When did you paint this?”
I stare at it, mesmerised. I thought I’d lost that card forever.
“I…where did you get that? It was stolen.”
“Yes, it made its way back to me,” Beau says. “Now, when did you paint it?”
“A few weeks before we started talking again,” I say in distraction, reaching out to run my fingers over the card.
“Why did you paint it?”
“I missed you, I guess, and I just felt like…” I trail off, beginning to feel so stupid.
“Tell me.”
“I was sitting there thinking about you guys-”
“We’re going to circle back to that in a minute,” Beau purrs.
“-and I was thinking about you and where you were headed. What was going to happen. And it just came out.”
Beau hums. “This is a true reading.”
I jerk my head, looking up at him. “What?”
“This card happened. It’s real.”
“It’s not real. I depicted you as demons. It’s offensive and, no, just let me tear it up!” I cry out angrily.
Beau snatches it off the table. “We are demons. We’re your demons. We know what we are, Aspyn. There are no illusions here. This is us.”
“But-”
“No, one day I’ll explain what happened last night, but, rest assured, the Daane belong to you. This card shows it.”
I stare at him, confused and uncertain what this all means, but his eyes are fierce, and his low tone is ringing with honesty.
“I don’t understand.”
“I know, and it’s all right.”
He picks up the fork and starts feeding me again.
“What are Shale and Keagan doing?”
Beau looks away, which gives me a horrible sense of nerves.
“Beau, what are they doing?”
Beau stands up and takes the empty bowl away. I get up and step after him, but my leg just collapses, and I go down fast. I’m fully waiting to thump into the ground when I realise I’m suspended in mid-air.
Beau pulls me up and stares into my eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry.” My face is scorching hot.
“Did it hurt?”
I frown. “No, it just suddenly collapsed. I’m okay,” I mutter and shift, trying to pull back from him.
He doesn’t let me go at all, just holds me until he gets sick of it and picks me up.
I let out a squeak and throw my arms around his shoulders. Which brings me close to his neck and allows that ginger scent of his to fill my lungs. I love it so much.
Beau adjusts me and sits on the armchair, pulling me firmly into his lap. With one enormous hand, he starts kneading the tightened muscles of my injured leg. It’s moments like this that crush almost all my resistance.
“I hate it when you guys touch me there.”
“I hate it that you care so much that we want to make you feel better.”
I snap my mouth shut and sit silently, trying not to moan as he slowly works out all the painful parts of my thigh. I snuggle closer and rest my head on his shoulder.
The ginger relaxes me, but it makes me think of Gael. He left so quickly. He didn’t stay. Was I supposed to beg? Or cry? Was I supposed to explain my whole sordid life and ask that he take me as I am?
“Hey, what’s this?”
I blink and realise I’m crying. “Oops, sorry.”
“What were you thinking about?”
I look away. I don’t want to tell him that.
“Oh. Look, Aspyn, he’s an idiot, but idiots can be taught.”
We sit in silence while I wrestle with myself. Finally, I find the courage and sit forward, staring at the floor.
“Beau?” I’ve always wanted to ask this question, but I’ve been too scared, but tonight, it feels different. I feel like maybe I’m ready to ask.
“Yes, Cher?”
“What happened to your gran? How did she die?”
Beau stiffens and then forces himself to relax. “My gran, who was the sweetest, most hardworking omega to ever live, went to the doctors one morning, and the doctors told her she had an illness that would steal her dignity, steal her mobility, and steal her life. She wrote in her letter that she didn’t want me to look after her. She said she knew I would be better off alone than to be a burden to me. So she took her life into her own hands, and she jumped off the cliff.”
“Oh.”
Beau strokes a finger down my cheek. “I would have rather have had some moments with her, had a conversation or something. I would have been honoured to care for her just so we could have more time. We were really poor, and we struggled to stay fed. There wasn’t much work for an old lady or a teenage boy, so I can understand now why she did it, but I know she was wrong.”
I look down at my hands. It’s not that I’ve thought about it seriously, but it occurs to me that living here alone might get dangerous. Sometimes it feels easier to take the final exit.
To kill myself, I silently say, so I’m not a burden to someone I love.
“I can understand why she did it. She must have loved you very much.”
Beau closes his eyes. “She did. I know that, but sometimes you can be wrong. I think she was wrong.” He snuggles in and rubs his face over my hair. “There were a lot of emotions, but it came down to one thing: my heart. I wasn’t ready to be alone, and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”
“No one is ready to be alone, Beau. I’m sorry she left you.”
He leans in close and presses his lips to my neck. My body breaks out into goosebumps.
The low light of the fading sunset is leaving us sitting in deep shadows.
“I have to work tomorrow, so, I, uh, might go to bed early tonight.”
Beau stares at me.
I wiggle off his lap and put some space between us and then turn around and stare at him.
“Was that an invitation?” Beau asks, his eyebrows raise, and I hate that there is so much hope in his expression.
I jerk my head in a nod.
He stands up smoothly and reaches for me, but I limp away, heading for the bedroom.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
I hobble into the bathroom and grip the edge of the basin. What was I thinking? I just…want to be close to him.
I’ve been with him lots of times.
That was only during a heat. This is different.
No, it’s not.
Oh, god.
I brush my teeth, go to the toilet, and then slink out of the bathroom, only to find Beau laid out deliciously naked on my bed. My breath hitches in my lungs, and I have this very real urge to cry.
He is so damn beautiful, and I’m just broken old me.
Beau stands up and approaches me like a jungle cat.
“Where have you gone?”
“Into black thoughts and thunder,” I whisper.
“Well, that’s not allowed. Let me make you feel good, Omega.”
I cringe but don’t stop him when he reaches for the tie of my wrap dress and undoes it. The dress falls open, and he peels it from me and tosses it away.
“Beau?”
I turn my head into his, pressing my lips to his. He tastes so good, and the moment I start moving, he does, too. I lead, tasting and teasing, and he chases, deepening and taunting.
The sound of my whimpers and moans fill the room.
My bra comes off and gets tossed aside, and my panties are gone already. Now it’s just me, exposed to him, and I don’t want to see. I don’t want to give him a chance to tell me I make him sick.
I reach for his cock, encircling it with my fingers and stroking in long pulls.
Beau pulls his lips from mine, spins us, and lowers me carefully to the bed. Before I can say anything, he steps back and looks down at me.
I know what he sees. There are scars on my left side, my left thigh has a massive scar, and it’s dimpled and recessed. It’s ugly. I hate the way it looks. I hate the way it feels.
In the winter, my hips ache. My leg isn’t reliable. I get really terrible aches to the bones sometimes, muscle cramps and spasms. The nerves light up like fairy lights, dancing and flickering with electricity.
There’s a smaller scar above my right breast in the shape of a triangle. It’s not as deep, but it’s still ugly, and the big one that takes up a third of the left side of my face.
That’s what he sees.
A ruined omega.
“You’re beautiful.”
I stare at him, sure I’ve heard him wrong. “What?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“You don’t have to lie to me. I’ll have sex with you, anyway,” I mutter.
Beau freezes and glares down at me. “Don’t ever say that to me again.”
I stiffen and look up at him in alarm. “What?”
“Do not accuse me of lying when I call you beautiful. You don’t see you the way I do. I see a survivor who never gives up. A woman with golden skin, wide hips, soft curves, and the most beautiful breasts and pussy I’ve ever seen. To me, you are gorgeous. Your scars just show how strong you are and what you’ve survived. I love them because they are a part of you.”
“But-”
I don’t get to say another word. Beau climbs on the bed and pushes my legs apart. He gets in between them and lays down.
“Now, I took care of your leg. Let me take care of other needy parts of you.”
His lips descend, and I arch up, gasping as the hot heat of his tongue glides through my folds, flicking my clit.
“Beau!”
“Nope, you’re going to take your punishment like a good girl, aren’t you?”
“I’m not a good girl!” I hiss and twist, but he clamps down on my hips and sucks my clit into his mouth. My hips jerk up towards him of their own volition.
“Fine, take your medicine, bad girl.”
He gets on his knees, grabs one of my pillows, lifts me up as if I weigh nothing and shoves a pillow under my ass, then lays back down.
“Ah, perfect. Prepare yourself, Omega. I need to prove a point.”
“What point?” I whine.
“That you are beautiful.”
He licks from my pussy to my clit, slowly. I just about melt. I reach down, running my fingers through his soft dark hair.
“Beau, please.”
“You need to give me all the slick, Omega. I want this pillow soaked. I want the house to stink of your pleasure. Mm, yes, just like that. Purr for me, princess. I want your screams in the air.”
I shake my head. I don’t want to give him any of that, do I?
He licks around my pussy, stroking the flesh before he dips his tongue into me, massaging inside me.
I arch up again, surprised by the sudden invasion.
He licks and laps, probing me, and then returning to my clit. He drives me high and gets me right there before he eases off.
My frustration boils over, and I grab his head, pulling him to me as I ride his face.
His fingers slide closer, and then three fingers fill me, curling inside me. The sudden fullness has me tumbling into a toe-curling orgasm.
I lay there panting and trying not to flinch as he laps up my slick. I’m so over sensitive now, but just when I’m about to tell him to stop, he pulls away and climbs up to lie on me.
But he doesn’t move.
“Are you going to-?” I cut off, embarrassed.
“Hush, just let me lie here and feel you.”
I peer up at him, waiting until he sighs and rolls off me.
“Beau, are you all right?” Why don’t you want to have sex with me? What’s going on? Do you think I’m ugly? Are you regretting this?
Beau hums and then pounces. He grabs two pillows, puts them in the middle of the bed and rolls me onto my stomach.
I brace myself and look back.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve read some things, and they think this might be easier for people with a back or leg injury.”
I blink several times. I need a few more because my eyes are burning. He considered how best to make me feel good?
“I just needed to remember it. I was fucking turned on by you screaming my name. Just obliterates my thoughts,” he mutters.
“I didn’t scream your name!” I protest.
“No, but you’re going to.”
He pushes the hard tip of his cock up against my pussy and presses in.
“Oh, fuck, it has been too long, Aspyn.”
“It’s only been a couple of days.”
“Too long!” he grits out.
He slides into me, inch by inch. It feels like he’s impossibly large, stretching me almost painfully, but I welcome the pain, especially this pain.
When he bottoms out, he lays over me, wrapping his arms around mine and pulling us so we’re touching everywhere, including our legs.
“You know what I love about this position?”
“What?” I whimper.
“People think it’s less intimate, but, for me, it’s more. I could be taking your pussy or ass, and I’m here wrapped around you, my lips pressed to your ear, and it’s the most amazing moment of my life.”
He shifts his hips, drawing out and thrusting back in. The pace starts slow, building as he whispers.
He doesn’t stop talking the whole time. He tells me I’m perfect and beautiful, his queen.
Beau grabs my hands and laces our fingers together and rocks back and forth.
By the time he’s slamming his hips into my ass, I’m a sobbing mess, and when he reaches around and starts kneading my breast, I’m lost.
I’ve needed this so much.
“Be my bad girl forever,” Beau hisses in my ear.
My body tightens as I’m thrown into the oblivion of my pleasure. I curl my fingers in the mattress, screaming his name like he promised.
He thrusts harder and faster until he stiffens. He thrusts in quickly and then slowly slumps, completely still on my back.
“Good girl!” he hums.
A giggle slips out, followed by a snort, but Beau nuzzles my shoulder, kissing the curve in a sensual way that has the laughter dying in my throat. With a groan, he licks a trail up to my neck, dragging his teeth over the spots I’m most sensitive.
“You smell so good. I love this flower scent you ooze. I want to drown in it. Jasmine, night blooming jasmine. I had to go and look it up. It took me a month before I found the right flower.”
I moan and press back against him.
“Your wish, my command,” Beau murmurs and starts to move.