Chapter 7
Malin
His words slashed like a knife thrust in my gut. I set my drink down and got up, walking over to the pool table, leaning against it. All I could see was the back of Cassius’s head now.
I wasn’t a rapist but could never forget chasing Kirion around Dad’s house to terrorize him with the idea that I was a monster.
Back then, I might’ve seemed like one to him, to my father.
To myself. At that time, I didn’t want to think about things in rational ways.
I didn’t want to feel. Not sadness, not happiness—nothing.
“Wow. You’re quite the brave little omega, aren’t you?” Maybe nothing had changed in the past six years. Maybe I really was the worthless son my dad despised.
Cassius turned on the couch, bringing one leg up to balance and placing an elbow on the backrest. His face looked contorted. His pale eyes blazed.
“You really want to know what Brimstone is like? Fine.” His voice rose.
“Since I’ve been there, I’ve had two heats which were rented out.
I don’t remember much about it. I was heavily drugged.
” He hissed as if even that memory was too much.
“They later told me more medication than normal was used because I wasn’t cooperating.
Well, fuck, what do they expect? And to answer your other shitty question, I don’t have kids.
Nothing took. It put a black dot on my record which was probably why I was hired for the party.
At least they could make income off me that way. ”
That entire speech had been with a raised voice. I could’ve been offended. An omega yelling at me? Instead, something else was happening inside me. Like triggers to fight but also protect. A bizarre hot feeling in my stomach threatened to double me over.
My default was to bully when I met difficult people, people I didn’t understand.
But the fight in me was not directed at Cassius.
I had a sudden vision of burning Brimstone to the ground and walking out of the smoke like some villain in a thriller movie, Cassius slung over my shoulder, not knowing if he was dead or alive.
I shook my head to clear it, then approached the couch. “Well, I guess they made money all right.” My voice sounded empty and weird.
Cassius turned away, punching the couch. An exasperated groan escaped his throat.
I returned to the sitting area and settled into an EZ chair further away from him. Something shuddered in my chest. Ignoring it, I leaned back and crossed my legs.
“All right. You answered my rude question. My turn to answer.”
When Cassius looked at me, his eyes had softened. The lashes were damp. “What?”
I huffed, then said, “Yep to your last question. The money is my trust from my dad. It’s mine but I never earned it. We don’t speak, if that might be your next question. But I did grow up in privilege. Excessive spoiled privilege.”
Cassius’s mouth opened, then closed.
“I was never abused.” I couldn’t help feeling a frown form between my eyebrows. “Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. My omega dad died when I was ten.”
Did I think admitting that last fact might gain me sympathy points? Sometimes that worked. But I didn’t really want sympathy, just attention. My therapist had carefully taught me that much.
“Your turn.” I pretended to be bored, tapping my fingers on one knee. “How old are you?”
He gulped. “Twenty-one.”
I stopped tapping and pointed a finger at him. “Your turn.”
Cassius’s eyes darted about the room. “What’s with all the glass?”
“My hoard. I’ve been collecting glass since I was five. My turn.”
He blinked at me, still looking confused.
“How often do you go into heat?” I knew this was an intimate question. Omegas were like aliens to me. But I could ask whatever I liked.
His eyebrows rose. “Twice.” He cleared his throat. “A year.”
I gave him a nod.
Cassius narrowed his gaze. “How did your omega father die?”
I felt my body jerk back. I’d never talked about that to anyone but Dad and, recently, with my therapist.
The discussion with Dad had not really been a talk but a fight. I still blamed him.
However, it was my turn to answer now. Only fair. Except for the fact that I didn’t play fair.
“He’s gone and that’s all there is to it,” I said. “My turn. What does it feel like to go into heat?”
Cassius’s face darkened. “You didn’t answer my question.”
The memory turned over and over. I was only ten.
I called Dad a liar. I believed my father would walk through the front door any minute.
Dad kept telling me he was sorry; the bond was broken.
Sorry for what? I remembered screaming, pounding my small fists into his chest. I hated him so much.
They’d been arguing that day. It had to be Dad’s fault.
I lowered my voice to a monotone. “There was a storm. He shifted and flew away. He never came back.”
Cassius stared at me. He said in a soft voice, “They hurt.”
My eyes flicked to his. “They?”
“My heats.”
Our gazes held for a few seconds longer than was comfortable. Then Cassius said, “Is his death why you don’t speak to your dad?”
“Yes.” I blew by any explanation with my next question. “Is it normal for heats to hurt?”
“No. It’s not normal.”
We both looked away. Maybe it was too much too fast. Correction. There was no maybe about it. Tension filled the room.
I got up and started putting the food into containers, stacked them and took them to the kitchen.
When I returned, I switched on the huge TV, picked up two controllers and handed one to Cassius.
“I’m going to teach you another game.”
“Okay.”
He was familiar with game controllers. He learned the rules quickly. The game was intense, requiring all our focus. That had been my intention. It was always my intention not to think too much, to distract from truth and emotion. But I couldn’t deny being drawn to Cassius.
You see him on another level.
Malinekan was difficult to ignore.
The young man hunching over the game controller sent off vibes of smallness and isolation. Yet he was fast and witty, all his attention on the screen. He was very sure about himself as he played, this boy who’d thrown a glass at his burly alpha keeper. He played from a place of anger.
I knew that anger like it was my mate. It stemmed from rejection and fear, two things I would never admit out loud.
We battled things out on the screen that words couldn’t do justice to. Fighting aliens and ships. Blowing things to smithereens. He kept up with me like no one else ever had before. We lost hours to the screen before I got up to bring in more water and snacks.
During the gaming, Malinekan stayed quiet. He grew tired and fell asleep in my mind.
We lounged, the game frozen, and ate.
Cassius said, “I have another question.”
“What?”
“What color is your dragon?”
I raised an eyebrow at such oddness that he would want to know that. “All colors.”
He nodded and went back to eating.