23. Chapter 23
23
When I lived in Breton City, I never cared for the snow.
The plush white always churned muddy too quickly, under harried footsteps and horses dragging their carriages. I watched it fall from the sky and imagined what it would taste like on my tongue. A bite of cold, softening and melting in the heat of my mouth.
I made Birdie describe it, and like the good sister she was, she indulged me. Winter was when most people lived the life that was my normal. Exiled inside four walls that shrunk as nature punished outside.
I’d seen the wisps of snow this morning, illuminated by the full moon. They sifted through the air, disappearing before they reached the ground. It would be too cold for nearly anything soon. I swallowed a noise of panic as I maneuvered the stairs. Dr. Goodman confirmed there were no broken bones, although I didn’t trust his expertise.
I’d blushed through the whole affair, pinned under the intense gaze of the Hartlock brothers and Oliver. The air was thick with tension, I couldn’t understand, but it rolled over my skin and raised goosebumps the size of hills.
I wanted to know what my fate was.
Would I heal and find myself thrown out as soon as I was able to walk?
There was an ulcer forming on the inside of my mouth, but I couldn’t stop nibbling on the soft inner flesh. Not until I knew more.
What a useless, little fool I was . My caustic thoughts of failure tore through me like a chasm. I wanted to be strong enough to live my life, but I ended up being rescued. First by an animal, and then by a man who seemed animalistic in his fury.
Three days passed since I saw the black wolf stalk out of the trees and bare its wild fangs at me. The tips of them promised death, and I’d never felt such terror. Not when Daniel took his blunt ones to my shoulder, not when Hale found out the truth. But larger than the terror, there was an all-encompassing need to survive . My blood rushed to my head. The frantic need scrambled every logical thought. If not for Dalton, I would be dead. If not for Ruck, the wolf might have returned. I shuddered at the thought, swallowing on the stairs.
I wanted to live. The desire choked my lungs. To be free and alive. There was a vibrant, fierce spirit underneath the fragile, bruised shell of my ribcage. I didn’t have the strength needed to survive. My shoulders slumped. It was blind panic that seized the reins of my mind.
But I refused to go back to Breton City, to Daniel and my father, who betrayed me. My chest ached at the thought of leaving Hartlock Ranch. My fingers curled on the faded floral wallpaper. There were so many memories in this house that weren’t mine.
There were marks of a legacy grown and nurtured inside these walls. My father’s house in Breton City was gargantuan, but soulless. Every rumpled cushion reset by a shadowy maid at the end of the day. There was no space for me to make a mark, when there were no marks allowed at all. Even the lingering warmth of my mother was smoothed out, returned to its pristine original condition.
“Esta, good gods, let me help you.” Ruck sucked in a gasp as he rounded the corner and saw me frozen on the stairs.
“Oh no,” I stumbled over my words, not sure how to articulate the internal crisis I was having.
Ruck didn’t listen, bounding up the creaking wooden stair to scoop me into his hold. One arm locked under my knees, and the other banded around my back. I rested my head awkwardly on his chest as he skirted the steps in slow motion.
“Careful, there we go.” He muttered under his breath, his fingers spreading under my skirts.
I’d pulled my dress on but felt too weak to lace it up properly at the back. It gaped open, and I sucked in a mortified breath. Ruck smelled like Dalton. Sun-drenched hay, wild sun, and worn saddles. My eyes pricked at the memory of the stallion.
I hoped he found his friends; he deserved his freedom. He’d been a terrifying visage as he scared away the wolf. His hooves kicked in the air with lightning speed. Wide nostrils, ears flat against his skull. The devil’s horse. My angel in disguise. Afterward, he stayed, the reins dragging forlornly on the ground. He’d given me such a look, it cut through my miserable, wet blubbering.
You small-brained imbecile, what did you think was going to happen?
The memory of it made a laugh bubble up, and I smothered it against Ruck’s chest.
“What is it?” He glided into the sitting room and deposited me on the couch.
“Your scent reminds me of Dalton. I can’t sit here, though. It’s Hale’s spot.”
I reached out my hands, hoping Ruck would help me so I didn’t have to hobble over to the armchair near the blaring fire. My dress inched off my shoulder, and I tried to nudge it up again. Darn laces. I sighed as Ruck leaned in, but he didn’t help. Only plucked me up and settled himself on Hale’s spot, with me on his lap. His hands landed on my skirts, weighing me down.
“There, that’s better, isn’t it? Your ankle can rest, and your delicious scent won’t freshen Hale’s spot up.”
I wriggled on his lap, uncomfortable with the heat that rose at the closeness of his body. His scent turned molasses, thick and heady. Not that I didn’t like his touch or the feel of his body underneath me.
We had been much closer during my heat.
My cheeks flushed at the hazy memories. Everything was blurry, melted together with streaks of unending, languid pleasure. But this was sharp. Potent. And I liked it too much. Enough for slick to pool between my legs. I pressed them together and fussed at Ruck’s hands.
“Just put me on the other side.” I turned my head to look at Ruck, breath catching at the teeth caught in his lower lip. I recalled the way I begged him during my heat, grounding down on his hard knot, to mark me with those teeth. My body flushed all over, and I felt light-headed. Ruck’s hands bunched as he drew my skirts up, dragging them over my sensitive skin until they sparked.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, watching the way his teeth worried the plump, pink flesh of his lower lip. Ruck encircled one calf, digging his thumb into the muscle.
“The doctor said you need daily massages until you’re mobile again.”
His fingers danced over my flesh, digging out the tension and creating a new one. Hot between my legs, even at this innocent touch.
“He said no such thing,” I spluttered.
It was around midday, from the crystal shards of light illuminating the room. I knew Oliver prepared a dry lunch in advance, having taken over the cooking while I was banished to my bed. Conceivably, no one would be home until nightfall. I would never have come down in a state of undress if I thought anyone would be home. With the snow fast approaching, everyone was working hard to prepare for a long and bitter winter. So many jobs needed to get done.
Why was Ruck here?
“Shall I stop? Does it not feel good?” He twisted his thumb down the middle of my calf, and I moaned in response.
The touch created magic, and I melted into Ruck despite myself. My entire body tingled as his fingers dragged higher, massaging my upper thigh. Slick drenched the skin between them, and I realized too late. Boneless until he skimmed through the wetness. I whimpered as his touch froze, sucking in a mortified breath.
“Please…” Don’t mention it. Don’t stop touching me. Touch me more. Higher. My cheeks were as hot as the coals in the fireplace. His chest sank in a ragged exhale.
“It feels too good,” Ruck whispered.
I nodded, unsure why he sounded so pleased with himself, while I dissolved from embarrassment. But Ruck didn’t take his fingers away. He hummed under his breath and massaged my thighs. There were a few lingering bruises from the fall, and as he dug into one, I hissed.
“Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t know you were bruised still. Are they hurting you?”
Gods, his touch eked out so much tension, but the slick was impossible to ignore now, dripping between my clamped thighs. Ruck pried them open, massaging every part of me.
“Ruck,” I said his name like a strangled prayer.
I wanted his touch to drift higher, to the nub between my legs that pulsed with hunger.
“Yes, Esta?”
I tried to close my legs, fighting against the rising need.
“Hale,” I gasped as his fingers brushed the seam of my hidden lips. “He’s…my husband.”
A lousy, rotten husband, I added in my head. He should have been the one touching me, not Ruck. He should have been the one stoking undeniable heat inside me. My skirts were bunched almost to my hips, and my chest heaved as Ruck played me like an instrument.
“He begged me to help you, to care for you. Let me show you the love your husband denied you.”
His touch dipped inside my drenched lips for a moment, and a ragged moan escaped me. His touch felt so good, but it also hurt. Like his hands were laced with thorns and every touch pricked me deeper than skin level. Scars on my soul.
I was a sinner to let him touch me this way.
I shoved his hand away, closing my legs with desperate pants. “That was in my heat. This is different.”
“Is it?” A voice rumbled from the doorway, and I made a strangled squawk. Hale was standing there, his hat in hand, and Oliver hovered right behind him. “Does Ruck’s touch not feel good?”
My husband strode into the room, and Oliver closed the door behind him, flicking the lock. He tossed another log on the open fire and settled into my armchair with a sigh. I wriggled away from Ruck, wincing as the movement jostled my tender body. But Ruck only hauled me back, jamming me against his hips. Even through my skirts, I could feel his hardness and slick rushed to accompany the steel.
My body wanted him to slide inside me and made a path for him.
“Hale.” My voice cracked, and I ducked my chin to my chest, unable to look him in the eye. It was one thing for his brothers to assist me through my heat. But to have a full grasp of my faculties and allow his touch, I was ashamed. It didn’t dampen the need that coursed through me or the way my nub tingled in the presence of now three alphas.
Part of me wanted them all.
“I hope it does feel good. You deserve pleasure, and I’ve been too much of a fool husband to give it. I left you in your heat. It’s me who needs to apologize. We had a beautiful start to our marriage, and I ruined it with my twisted beliefs and long-held prejudice against omegas.”
I didn’t know what Hale wanted me to say in response. I glanced up under my lashes.
I wanted to know my fate. It looked like I was about to find out. Hale gave me a sad smile and continued.
“I said cruel things. I iced you out through no fault of your own. There aren’t enough apologies to fix the pain I made. But I will continue to repeat it. I’m sorry. I was deeply scarred from my past, I know that’s no excuse for what I did. We made vows, and I betrayed them first. I didn’t care for you the way I should have. But Esta, I’m thinking I never could have.”
His words weren’t a surprise.
I’d killed anything he might have held in his heart when I revealed I was an omega. But it was still a sucker punch to my gut, and I couldn’t stop the gasp of pain that escaped me. Hale crushed his hat between his hands as panic flared across his features.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize how wrong I was. My past blinded me to the possibility of a happy future. But it also reminded me how we can’t do this alone. Ruck and Oliver were there for you when I couldn’t be. They loved you when I was still too stubborn to admit what was in my heart. I've been falling for you since the first time I saw you. I don’t want to go back to the way it was. I ruined that with my actions. But we could build a new future.” His eyes pleaded with me, the wrinkles around the edges deepening.
“What you’re talking about? What you’re proposing…” my words caught like glue. Sticky with shame, confusion, and shock. Ruck stroked his thumbs down my side. Oliver lifted his chin, standing beside the fire. They were too calm and collected for what Hale was saying, which meant they’d discussed this in advance.
My mind swirled.
“A pack.” Oliver supplied, fiddling with something in his hands. It was a smooth rock, like the one Hale gifted me months ago. The one Oliver initially found. Could he have wanted to give it to me himself but instead settled on having Hale gift it because he couldn’t? This one was pale gray with chunks of gold threads through it. Hard, rough edges and the beauty in between. Like life, you had to search past the difficult bits to get to the joy. An inexplicable hope surged in my chest, enough that tears pressed against the back of my eyes. It was wrong what they offered. Hierarchy Laws banned packs years ago. We all knew that. But with the risk, I saw the hunger in their faces. I turned to look at Ruck, letting myself really see for the first time. There was so much desire blazing out of his expression and an equal amount of fear.
They feared me saying no to this. A tear quivered on my lower lash before charting into unknown territory down my cheek. Ruck reached out and wiped it away, cupping my cheek.
“A pack, darlin’.”
The endearment turned my insides to jam. I tore my face out of his grip, wiping away the stream of tears that now fell.
“It’s a sin,” my voice croaked, and Oliver growled, low in disagreement.
“We ain’t human. Their sins ain’t ours. Humans don’t mark each other, feel each other in their souls. They can toss partners away, but we have mates. They can't scent forever in each other, but we can.”
His words went against everything I’d ever heard in church, from Daniel, from my father. It was sacrilege. Dangerous and taboo. So why did it fill my veins like the comets across the sky? Oliver’s chest was powerful as it rose in righteous fury. A hunger he’d hidden for some time. Hooked in the tense lines in his face. Long before my heat. Hale wasn’t lying. They wanted me.
I’d dismissed their murmurs of love after my heat as being hormone-addled statements. I never thought it could have been something real. How wrong was I? My heart cracked under the pressure of the epiphany, and long-buried emotions rose. Bubbled to the surface, oxygen I needed as I drowned.
“I’m your husband, but I don’t deserve you. You fled into the wildlands because you were too afraid, and I drove you to it.” Hale’s eyes searched my face, and his voice cracked. “I was so wrong. We were married in the human way, but Esta, I want to mark you the way our ancestors did. The way Designated should exist. I want to sink my teeth into your neck and tie myself to you for an eternity. I want to create a legacy that stands the ages. But more than anything, I want us to live together as a pack.”
“You want to claim an omega? Or did you forget what I am?” The bitter words flipped my upper lip.
“I desired you the moment I saw you get off that train, Esta. And I let my unfounded hatred ruin what we grew. I let my fears blind me to the truth of how perfect you are. I want you to know how hard I will work on healing the twisted beliefs inside me.”
I froze on Ruck’s lap. What he was proposing was so rebellious. It was the destruction of everything I’d ever known. But I’d already done that once. As an omega, under the charge of my father in Breton City. Society wanted me to accept his guidance in the marriage match he made me. If I’d done what was expected, I would have been married to Daniel by now. My soul forever trapped in an empty chasm because Daniel’s teeth could not form a bond mark like the alphas in the room. I unshackled myself once, listening to my roiling, screaming gut rather than the rules and laws being drummed into me.
Been brave in the face of the unknown.
Could I do it again?
The room was thick with tension, but the scents of Hale, Oliver, and Ruck tangled into a beautiful mess. I sucked in a deep gulp, letting the combination of it soothe my insides. They were waiting for me, impatient but silent. Hale’s mouth moved like he wanted to add more arguments. Oliver rubbed the rock, like his very touch could smooth the surface. Ruck was stiff steel underneath me.
“Is that for me?” I nodded to the rock in Oliver’s hand.
He turned it over like he’d forgotten he even held it. Pink leaped to fill his cheeks. Oliver dropped his head in a jerky nod, and I held out my palm. A flat, warm offering. His green eyes brightened like a sunlit glade.
“I found it in the ravine you were trapped in. See here,” he traced the glittering gold vein. “It might be gold. When the chill lets up, I want to explore deeper, see if there’s more to be found.”
He lay the rock in my hand, warm from his worrying. The gold vein glittered, and I let out a soft puff of joy. It was so pretty. I caught Oliver’s hand as he moved away.
“Thank you for my gift,” I smiled, and an impulse drove me to tug him to my level. “I’m partial to pretty things. Perhaps it’s vain, but I am. Maybe it was fate that I almost fell into a ravine with gold.”
Oliver crashed to one knee. A flicker of hope and doubt warred in his face. Like he couldn’t decide whether this was something more or me being polite. My gut led me to this ranch. To a place where I experienced more in mere months than in years. Everyone told me how to live my life, never listened to what I wanted. The expectations of humans constrained me. They corralled Designated like animals, and part of me knew we were. At the very least, we weren’t the same as humans.
Oliver had taught me more about the Designated gods. I knew, in my marrow, they offered what I craved.
I needed more. My core ached for it. The memory of Ruck and Oliver during my heat was one I clutched onto in the dark before sleep took me. My cheeks were still red from Hale saying it out loud, but hadn’t I been wanting the same thing? To be myself and be loved for it. Oliver’s hand squeezed mine, and Ruck’s tightened on my waist. Like they were reminding me to come back to them. I met Hale’s gaze, surprised by the devastation that lurked in the hazel depths.
“Are you proposing this out of guilt?” The idea occurred to me, and the delicate sway of my mind halted.
He grimaced and shook his head. “No, Esta. Guilt eats me up, but this isn’t motivated by that. Just look at you, so perfect between my brothers.”
“Your brothers?”