Twenty-One #2
Dr. Brenda shakes herself out of her stupor before reapplying her professional face.
“Fable. What you’re saying is…it sounds like a ruse, and I wouldn’t believe it if you weren’t in front of me to tell it to me.
Your sister was trying to steal your omega?
And your alphas; are they scent matches, by chance? ”
I nod, feeling more hot tears escape my eyes. Unravelling all of this is painful. Every time I find room to breathe, to lift my head up a little bit, something else happens and I’m swept under a new wave of emotions as I process it. My nervous system is exhausted.
“I see. Did you know you could shield?”
I hold my hands out in front of me, studying them like I’ve never seen them before.
I was too out of it when I was admitted to remember doing what they’re telling me I did, but if I put my focus on the tips of my fingers, I feel a warmth, a bit like a low electric current, coating them.
When I try and tug that sensation higher, it slides over my arms like long gloves, giving my entire arms a faint blue sheen around them.
Sometimes, purebreds get extra abilities if they’re exposed to traumatic things, an evolutionary way of helping us protect ourselves. Sure would have been nice to discover it when Winslow was still around and doing daily torture sessions on me.
“No.”
Dr. Brenda nods like she expected this. “I should probably let you know that your alphas are currently in custody, and have been since we checked you in, because we needed you to corroborate their story before we could clear them.”
This news should make me feel some kind of way, shouldn’t it? I still feel numb. “Okay. Can I go back to sleep now?”
I feel them both studying me, and I think that means I said the wrong thing.
“I’m concerned about your reaction. Your bonded alphas are in a holding cell and you’re just...placid. Can you tell me what’s going on inside your head right now?”
“Can I talk to them? I think I should do that, shouldn’t I?”
The bonds are blessedly muted now, scraps. Maybe if I ever get out of here and they let them go, Winslow’s pack will finally realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth.
I’m trying to distance myself from them but even calling them Winslow’s pack in my head has me thinking too hard about them, remembering too many details.
I get a flash of being stuck in that supply closet with Monet, the way he felt underneath me when he was breathing raggedly and gripping onto my bare skin.
I recall the way Clement looked at me when he walked into that restaurant and sought me out, all but kicking Anderson out of his spot so he could sit next to me and commandeer my night.
The way…Anderson… would sleep between me and any door so that he could protect me, and the tender way he kisses me on the forehead.
How Edric walks around the house scowling but spends an hour every night trimming flowers and weeding his garden, or how Jos is always looking up new recipes to introduce me to new flavors.
Quietly I think he just enjoys hand feeding me.
And Calloway…prettier hair than me, but loves to pull me aside at any given chance so he can spin me around and dip me, always leaving me breathless from the simplest yet sweetest of kisses.
Little moments with all of them, proof that I’m not crazy for thinking we were creating something real.
And then we get to Moon. He’s the one that’s never relinquished his hate for me, the one that got us into this mess.
If it weren’t for him being so stuck on his own self-righteousness, then who knows if the alphas my sister was working with would have ever gotten the chance to try and nab me.
They wouldn’t have been able to hurt me, I wouldn’t have had to flee here, and perhaps I’d be tucked up in that mostly bare nest I have yet to fully assemble, finally feeling ready to make it mine.
Maybe I’d be opening all the beautiful packages that Calloway bought for me my first night with them, things he saw and wanted me to have so I’d be comfortable, because he’s the kind of alpha that finds those things important.
I don’t realize I’m shaking until I’m spilling water all over my lap, having quite forgotten that I still had it in my hands. The nurse takes it from me and the monitors behind me start going haywire, my system reacting to my distress.
I feel a full-blown meltdown washing over me, worse than I’ve had in a long time.
My neck hurts, my bites are leaking something warm down my neck, and suddenly all I want is to be surrounded by capable, strong bodies that do nothing but touch me in good ways and help me heal.
Oh gods, I made a mistake. How could I have thought I didn’t want their bonds, when those connections are the main reason I’ve finally been able to live a life worth experiencing?
Hyperventilating, but unable to stop. Eyes squeezed shut because the lights are too bright in here.
My body is too hot. My belly twists, sending fire through my entire torso, and dread fills me because I’ve felt this pain before.
I can only pray to the gods it’s a small heat spike, a result of my system trying to re-balance, because the alternative is unthinkable.
I cannot go into heat right now. I don’t know if I’ll survive it alone, and I don’t know if I want my alphas here even if they’d be allowed to.
Someone grabs my hand, grounding me, but it's the wrong hand and I don’t want it touching me. It doesn’t have the right callouses, the right fingernail shapes, the strength that I need.
“Okay okay, she’s going into a trauma-induced heat now, I guess. Fable, honey, we’re going to try and even you out sweet girl, but you might be too far gone to benefit from what I’m legally allowed to give you since you’re bonded.”
A wail escapes me because nothing is ever easy.
Coolness swells through me as something is injected into my arm, a needle I didn’t even register was there, but it’s only temporary; within minutes, the heat doubles, stealing my breath from my body and making the bones in my pelvis feel like they’re being finely ground while my body is lit on fire.
Further activity in the room is hard to track, but Dr. Brenda gets right in my face, breaking through the haze with an alpha bark I wish I didn’t react to.
“I need you to help me, okay? Tell me which alphas you can clear, which alphas we need to hold accountable for this situation. They can’t come to you until the police are sure they weren’t the ones that chased you down and beat you black and blue.
This isn’t going to get any better until you do that for me.
Give me the first initial of their name, anything.
Which alphas do we need to keep in custody so they can answer to their mistreatment of you? ”
My eyes are half-lidded, my neck unable to really support my heavy head. What is she asking? Which alphas…alphas…alphas hurt me? No. Not mine. No. Mine are safe. I need them. A moment of clarity strikes me the next time my heat wave dips, leaving me sweating and shaking, weaker than I was.
I look to the doctor, who’s still waiting for an answer.
Right. She needs to know… “Wasn’t my alphas that did this.
It was a pack my sister promised me to, without my consent or knowledge.
Moon thought…it doesn’t matter. I know he believes me now.
His face…he was panicking. He’s going to be mine.
They’re all mine. He’s just going to have to fucking deal with it. Where are they? Can I have them?”
I start crying then because my arms are too empty, my body too cold in the wake of the heat cutting off instantly.
I let my eyes close, let my body feel and be present, and even though it hurts everywhere, it’s still functioning, and that’s about all I can expect of it.