Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
ROGUE
Cypress was working quickly. Bambi was out cold with Bunny still tucked into the crook of her elbow, and a monitor attached to her finger tracked her pulse and sats. Cypress had injected something into Bambi’s skin around some of the wounds while Vance held pressure on others.
Now she was focused beneath the ceiling lights, suturing closed the worst wounds. She cut one, then turned on her stool to Ace. “You’re hovering.”
He raised his eyebrows, but his gaze was fixed on the suture she was holding. Finally, she rolled her eyes. “Do you remember?—?”
“Yup.” Ace was already washing his hands, and before I knew it, he was seated beside Cypress, suture in hand as she pointed along one of the wounds. “Close it neat. Don’t pull too tight?—”
“I know.” Ace was eyeing the stitches she’d already done. “Those?”
“Internal. They’ll dissolve. That one was deeper than the others—but I don’t think anything was nicked.”
“I don’t want her looking like a patchwork doll at the end of this,” I said.
Cypress grinned. “He’s shockingly good, would you believe? And the faster we can get this done, the better.”
I watched with mild fascination as Ace got to work, swallowed entirely by his focus on the stitches. He didn’t have a single tremor in his hands, despite the instability of Thistle in the bond, and the thick scent of this Omega’s blood saturating the air.
Bambi’s scent was in there somewhere—a hint of desert and charred sugar, stress twisting it into something bitter. I couldn’t identify it properly. She must have taken a scent blocker—there’d been nothing in the car—but that level of terror had a way of burning through those quickly.
I noticed Cypress was glancing back at me as she got another tray together to clean the next wound.
“I said I’m fine.” It was just a graze along my rib cage. “Looks worse than it feels.”
I caught Vance’s snort, but he stuffed the reaction away quickly, straightening his face.
“Show me,” Cypress said, cutting a stitch and fixing me with a glare.
I huffed, peeling up the cloth I’d grabbed to hold pressure, trying to wipe off as much blood as I could while I did. “Needs stitches,” Cypress said.
“I have a kit downstairs,” I muttered. “I’ll do it later.”
I wouldn’t leave until this Omega was stable. I could still feel the echo of Thistle’s agony as she’d seen her. It was an open wound of self-hatred.
Just to make sure I wasn’t harassed, I grabbed one of the saline bottles and bandages from the table. I doused the wound and wrapped it tight so it didn’t start bleeding again. Okay—bleeding more, since it hadn’t quite stopped with pressure.
“Did someone call her Bambi?” Vance’s question seemed directed at me—though he didn’t look at me.
I knew they had a process. They’d received survivors from the Ring before. It was something I’d found myself drawn to more and more in the last few years, even if I wasn’t welcome—wasn’t deserving of understanding it.
“We don’t know her name, just what Thistle called her.” I gestured at the deer tattoo visible on her shoulder.
“What’s her background?” Vance asked. “In case there’s anything we need to tread carefully around.”
“Bella Morgan’s—no idea how long. Thistle noticed her. Bella punished her for it.”
Vance winced. “And you got her out?”
I knew how unusual that was. “Made a trade.” I examined Ace again, who was still laser focused on the sutures he was working through.
Bloody hell.
We’d scraped by tonight on a thread.
There was no real reason we shouldn’t all be dead.
“Callum and Tanisha are setting up a room, but actually…” Vance was eyeing Bunny. “Pulse spikes if someone so much as nudges her.” He glanced at the monitor. “She’ll do better with Thistle tonight?”
I nodded. “I think she would.” Thistle would be the anchor she needed—and I think Thistle needed to know this Omega was safe just as much.
THISTLE
I’d steadied in the tide of ink and antique wood—watching Knox work had been so beautiful that it was impossible not to become entranced.
After we were done, he took me back to my nest, leading me into the shower. It drained red at my feet for too long, and I stared.
Had I done enough to Banner? Had I made it last long enough? Had he been a part of what happened to Bambi?
Finally, Knox pulled me out, drying me off and helping me into fresh PJs, which all felt wrong.
Too good after what I’d caused…
When I got out, Bambi and Bunny were waiting. My chest tightened at the sight of her, but she wasn’t as scary to look at anymore. There was a dressing across her face, and her other wounds were covered.
None of my Alphas could stay. Knox and Rogue tried to help me arrange the bed and blankets, but Bambi’s breathing was too fast, and it didn’t settle until the scents of Alphas dulled in the room.
It’s all on us, Bunny.
I wrung my fingers together, kneeling beside her on the bed and staring at her, wondering again why I could settle her when I was the reason she was hurt.
I crawled into bed at her side.
She looked too young. I wasn’t all that old, but I’d been even younger when I’d ended up with Dan. Seventeen, with no idea what was waiting. Even that felt like so long ago. Before Knox. Before Ace.
“Are you at my beginning?” I asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.
At the beginning I hadn’t understood how much people might enjoy hurting me… We were the same, but not the same.
For me, it had been my fault.
For Bambi, it had been my fault…
And now she had scars that would never go away… but her fingers still gripped Bunny, and her breathing was soft, calm even, despite everything.
She shouldn’t be, but I wanted to give her a fighting chance, and I knew for me the best kind of next day was one where I could try and pretend nothing had happened.
As if I could prove to Dan he couldn’t break me.
The worst kind of next day was when I woke still gross, blood crusted across my face, my clothing sticking to my skin like dried papier-maché I had to peel away while I tried not to cry at the pain.
And then it was like it wasn’t a new day at all.
I didn’t want Bambi to go through that, so I hurried to my closet, digging until I found some comfy PJs.
I carefully tugged the nightgown on, bit by bit, as I pried off the bloody dress and slipped the fresh one over her. It had been cut already from when they’d stitched the wounds, so it wasn’t hard. I tried not to look at how many dressings there were…
Next, I gathered the pillows and blankets on the bed and tucked them around us, then got to work on her hair.
I laid down towels and filled a bowl with warm, soapy water.
With a cloth, I scrubbed out the sticky blood, rinsing it over and over until the towels were soaked, but there was no more dark crusted red in her hair.
Balancing carefully, I positioned the bowl beside her head so I could squeeze hand towels of water over it.
Finally, I lathered up her curls with conditioner.
My hair wasn’t thick enough to need that, but hers looked like it would knot up with nothing more than a sideways glance.
She deserved to be able to brush it in the morning.
Deserved a lot more than that, stupid.
None of this would change the fact she would wake covered in scars.
She was gonna hate me.
That was okay.
I deserved it.
But at least she would wake tomorrow with as few reminders of Bella as possible.
I turned off the light, leaving only the glow from the bathroom and TV. A fireplace crackled on the screen—one of my Alphas had found a cosy video to leave on in the background.
I repositioned Bunny so he was between us. He’d picked up a bit of blood, but it wasn’t too bad. I could scrub most of it out, I hoped.
We were in a huge pile of pillows, blankets, and cushions. A full nest.
In my hand was a little alcohol swab.
The last thing I needed to do before we slept.
Bambi curled tighter against me in her sleep, as if she wanted to be close. I snuggled in, trying to untangle all my guilt from the way she held me.
“You know, I have a big sister who held me like this,” I whispered.
For a moment, I was in my bed as Glade pulled me tight. Everything was right, for just a moment.
I was safe.
But… Glade hadn’t been the reason I was hurt. She’d never have done something so stupid as drawing a heart on Bambi’s wrist like that.
I know what my Alphas would say—that she would still be with Bella if I hadn’t claimed her. But this guilt went deeper than that. It was only because of Ace—not me, that she was safe. I’d been the one to play with fire, to follow stupid instincts I could never control—and this was the price.
She’d paid it.
I didn’t deserve any of this. Not her affection or her trust, not when I’d been so stupid…
Tears tumbled down my cheeks as I carefully ripped the paper. My fingers were shaking as I pulled out the alcohol swab.
It was another thing she shouldn’t wake with.
I took her wrist in my hands and finally looked at the faded red heart I’d drawn on her skin.
It felt as if, with every swipe of the swab, my heart was being squeezed. I could barely breathe, tears so thick the world was underwater. For a moment, I imagined the little scars I had left across Ace, Rogue, or Knox’s skin, all swimming away too.
Thistle dissolving in the blink of an eye.
Never there.
Never mattered, just like Dan promised.
By the time it was done, I was shaking so hard my bones might have been rattling in their sockets, but the mark I’d left was completely gone from Bambi’s skin.
It had not just been a claim: it was a promise. One that had led to blood and scars that would never wash off like the marker had.
Dumb, stupid, Omega, never with the right instincts, always fucking things up —but the thought cut off as Bambi’s grip around me tightened, dragging me closer against Bunny and her, as if she didn’t hate me at all.