11. Sage
Sage
“Maybe we overreacted,” I say to Blaze. “With Daega. Perhaps we shouldn’t have threatened to kill his family. He’s been hostile ever since. Barely civil.”
Blaze makes a high pitch sound of derision and continues oiling his Dao. It is an absolutely beautiful sword, and when I watch Blaze practice with it, it almost always ends in me fucking the shit out of him.
I can’t help it. He looks so hot when he’s being deadly.
“Vale sent me a few choice messages, and I think we’ve managed to not just piss off the whole pack but the Sanderson family, which means they might all be gunning for us. Not that I’m worried. I just think it might make things easier to get along with them rather than wage war with his family.”
Blaze doesn’t even glance up.
“You disagree,” I nod my head, listening to his silent argument. “But we never discussed keeping him prisoner. I’m not sure it’s the right path.”
“Stockholm syndrome.” Blaze smirks at his sword.
“You want him to fall in love with his captors? Baby, I think we’d have a better chance of getting pigs to fly.”
Blaze flicks the sword out, it gleams.
“How are your fingers?” I ask.
“They’re fine. I’ve set them, I barely notice the pain.”
There’s something edgy in his voice, so I don’t dare go to him, I just sit there and wait him out.
“Merle knows Aaron. She went to his room, lifted his top, and touched a scar. He told her it wasn’t her fault, but I saw her expression, it looked like she thought it was. Why is your stepbrother lying to me?” Blaze turns that sword on me, pressing the tip to my throat.
The deadly ice in his voice sets me on edge.
“I’m not sure, Blaze, but if he is, he’s probably got a reason that’s protecting someone he thinks can’t protect themselves.
” And that is the most honest thing I’ve ever said about Aaron.
He might be a lot of things: ornery, a pain in my ass, grumpy, but he is and always will be a protector of those weaker.
Blaze considers me for a long moment, weighing my words and what he knows.
“Okay,” Blaze says, and the tension in my shoulders eases.
She screams. It’s one piercing note. It happens every time she sleeps. I rush out of the room and slip into hers. I pull her up into my arms, tuck her hands so she can’t hurt herself or me, and put her ear to my chest.
Her back bows tight, and she strains, fighting against me.
The sound of her shriek is so full of fear that I don’t wonder what happened to her. It no longer matters, I will find the person who did this and kill them. I don’t need the specifics.
King slinks into the room and presses against her from the other side.
He strokes her hair.
We discovered quickly that our voices make it all worse. So, now we just come in and silently hold her. The episodes aren’t lasting as long as they were, so maybe our scents are having an impact and making her feel safe.
I don’t know.
What I do know is that in a world where an omega in distress signals to alphas that they are prey, I won’t ever be able to let this little one out of my sight. She’s dripping with vulnerability, her brokenness is a sour note that stretches out around her.
The world would take this little bird and break her wings.
Not me, though. I want to see her fly.
She shudders in our arms, the shrieking dying away.
This is the part I hate, the part where she starts to cry. These whole body sobs where she stops fighting and just collapses in on us.
The blessing is that she doesn’t remember. It’s the only one. I lay down, and King follows, his lips pressing to her temple.
In the shadow of the doorway, I see Daega, and behind him, Aaron. I want to tell them to come in, to help, but we were all made for shadows and fighting, and none of us know how to fight this silent battle this omega is having with her mind.
Her sobs quieten and then stop as she settles back into a deep sleep.
King pulls away first, but I follow after him, catching his arm as he goes for the front door.
“I need air,” he growls.
I hesitate and then let him go. We all have needed time and space to deal with the horror of whatever trauma that omega has gone through.
Instead, I turn and hunt down Aaron. It takes a while, but I find him standing beside the pool, staring into the water.
“Aaron?”
He shudders.
I approach slowly, completely focused on him. I slip my arms around him and rest my chin on his shoulder, ignoring the way he stiffens.
“Do you remember the wedding?”
“The part where it went wrong or the part where it went worse?” he says bitterly.
“The part where I fucked you like you were mine.”
He’s quiet. “That part. Yeah, I remember that part.”
“Yeah. Before our parents caught us and told us we were forbidden from being together, and my dad tried to make me kill you while your mum tried to get you to arrest me. Good times.”
“Like we care what they think,” Aaron scoffs.
“Mm, so why have you been fighting this so hard?” I brush my lips against his nape, watching him shudder. “You want me, I see you watching me. I can smell how much you want me, Alpha.”
“We are fundamentally different people,” he murmurs. “You kill people. I save them.”
“You say that like it’s bad. Opposites attract. We could be perfect together.”
He chokes out a harsh laugh. I edge closer until I’m pressed to his back. It’s not often I find Aaron this vulnerable. He normally would have thrown me off him already.
“It is a bad thing. I’m a cop. I put people like you in jail.”
“Like me isn’t me. I’m special.”
“Oh, you’re special all right,” Aaron scoffs.
I slide my hands up his chest, working my way in between his buttons until I’m touching skin. He’s letting me touch him so much more than he has in years.
“I am special. And yours,” I say honestly. “If you wanted me.”
“And Blaze?”
“Yes, we both belong to Blaze now.”
“I don’t know him.”
“Not yet, but you will.” I lip his earlobe, loving the sharp gasp that drives a jolt straight down my dick and into my balls.
“Talk to me about the omegas. What’s going on with Daega?” I murmur.
He stiffens and pulls my hands off him, the force field that keeps Aaron Roseland separate from everyone else in the world returning.
“Daega is…” his gaze rises and pins me to the spot. “He’s not suitable.”
“Suitable for whom?”
“For me, my life. He’s…”
So much pain. What is driving this refusal to accept anyone in his life?
“Aaron?”
He shakes his head. “It’s better for everyone.”
“And Merle?”
“I’m just here making sure she’s okay.”
Cagey. Liar. Manipulative. This is the evidence.
There’s one thing I know about him. Fundamentally, deep at his core, he is a person who will sacrifice himself. Over and over. So, what game is he playing? Who is he trying to save now?
But then his words sink in, and I suddenly get clarity of what sacrifices he’s willing to make.
I stare at him, aghast. “You don’t intend on taking either omega, do you?”
He breaks away from me, glancing sideways, refusing to meet my eyes.
“You don’t intend on staying with me?” I ask flatly.
His expression says it all. My temper, which I seldom show, rises, and I move towards him. He puts a hand out, pressing against my chest, stopping me from coming closer.
“What exactly do you intend, Roseland?”
“I intend on doing my job.”
With that, he turns and leaves, slipping away like he always does, leaving me frustrated and ready to throttle him.
“It’s interesting, don’t you think?” Daega says as he glides out of the darkness where I didn’t know he was. Fascinating that he can get one up on me, it’s rare that anyone can.
“What is?”
“That a man like Roseland is prepared to give up everything, happiness, bonds, scent matches. I find myself curious about what drives him.”
“And how to kill it?”
Daega studies me, then suddenly grins and inclines his head. “Of course. He looks free, he thinks he’s free, but Rosey is mine. I’m not giving him up.”
It’s a warning, a blatant challenge, but it doesn’t bother me because this omega is mine, too; he just doesn’t know it yet. He is cute, though.
He approaches and walks his fingers up my chest. I study him with half-lidded eyes, assessing the danger, always assessing with this feral omega.
“Don’t get in my way, Sage.”
I just watch him, admiring the way he so calmly threatens me, then how he so beautifully walks away.
I whistle as I return to the kitchen, making up another tray for Merle. I add another light purple flower to the tray. King dumps an orange on it without a word and disappears again.
I don’t know why he’s so obsessed with the orange, but I do know she clings to them, holding them long after she’s eaten. Perhaps the orange is a safety thing, or maybe she’s formed a connection with King.
I’m not entirely certain what it is, but if it’s working, I want them to keep doing it.
Anything to draw her out of her shell.
We just need names, and we can make everyone disappear.
I carry the tray to her room, but she’s in the bathroom. I’m tempted to linger, talk to her, well, at her. She still hasn’t shown any interest in anything we have to say. Other than fear, her expression is blank. She’s got a nearly perfect mask.
Instead of staying and invading her space, I put the tray beside her bed and retreat.
“This isn’t working,” I mutter.
I wander the house. Blaze is hidden in his workshop. Aaron is lurking in a dark corner. Rolly and King are itching in their enclosed prison, and Daega is prowling the house like a dangerous wraith, his temper growing with each day.
I pull out my phone and send a message.
“House meeting!” I shout.
They come, angry, frustrated, and openly hostile, but they all come. Even Merle lurks in the shadows of the hallway and watches.
“I’ve invited the family over for lunch.”
Blaze straightens, his eyes turning hard and cold. “That was not your decision-”
“Uh, baby.”
“No, you should-”
“Baby,” I say in exasperation.
He closes his mouth, and his lips twist as he stares at me. “I don’t approve.”
“Noted.”
King and Rolly glance at each other, then behind them to where Merle is hidden. They swallow their protests.
Aaron growls at me, but he’s got no say over the matter. He’ll explode when they get here or not. I’m not sure how much of an impact the omegas have on him and his ability to control himself, but knowing him, it’s high.
Pix raises a brow. “The family?”
“All the Sandersons are invited.”
“Uh huh,” he says, and he’s not impressed. At all. My excitement flags.
“You think I made a mistake?”
“Oh, I know you did, but it will be funny to watch you get your ass handed to you by an old man.”
I grin at him. “You have so little faith in me.”
“You haven’t met my family.”
“Our family now.”
His eyebrows go up, and he stares at me, hard, intent, and with a burning rage. “Not yours, they are mine. My family. I don’t share.”
Interesting.
Merle creeps out of the hallway, ignoring us both as she heads towards King. When he moves, she moves. She stays a few feet away from him, but virtually shadows his every movement.
Rolly is delighted.
I decide that my impulsive decision was a win for this and this alone.
“Do you really hate her so much, Daega?” I whisper.
He bares his teeth and slams me into the wall. Merle freezes like a deer in headlights. “Yes. She’s the opposite of this pack, everything that needs protection and help.”
“Which we are all more than capable of giving. Maybe we are exactly the right pack.”
“Or maybe you are my pack, and she is the odd duck who doesn’t belong.”
I cup his cheek, ignoring the way he recoils. “Oh, Daega, you are so cute and adorable when you are jealous. I find it so sexy. But we have plenty of room for you both.”
His nostrils flare.
I tap the tip of his nose. “And you, liar, liar, pants on fire, I’ve seen the way you look at her. Like you want to peel off her clothes and lick the scent from her body.”
“I do not!” he snarls.
“Mm-hmm. She watches you when you aren’t looking. She looks to you to show her what’s safe and what’s not.”
“Shut the fuck up, Alpha.”
His expression catches at the word, just as my entire body lights up, my amusement fading and a deep, wild hunger rising to the surface. Mine.
Pix snarls and shoves me hard against the wall, making my teeth rattle before storming away.
“Our family will be here for dinner. Everyone wear clothes!” I shout and then burst into laughter, but that feeling that came with that one word…it lingers.