Chapter 22
After telling them I wanted space, I’d locked myself in the bathroom. I sat at the bottom of the tub, water spraying on my face. I sputtered out a breath, the pain in my chest intensifying with my inability to breathe.
I laced my hands in front of my knees, blinking water droplets from my lashes.
A razor sat on the edge of the tub, innocently. I rubbed my hands down my smooth legs.
Shadows crept over my thoughts, and I closed my eyes, exhaling harshly.
That was why they were always on my mind. My gut was telling me they were my Scent Matches. Ironically, if they had told me and made it clear where they stood, I would have been willing to come to a purely physical arrangement.
They’d truly believed I’d force them to settle down.
Another wave of pain wracked me with a shiver.
It was too much; every nerve in my body hurt.
Lifting my chin so the water traveled downward, I scrubbed my throat, feeling the slight indentations of his teeth. They would heal into a strawberry-shaded claiming mark. It would stay there if I bit him back . . .
They had never wanted me, going as far as to take suppressants—that was why it took hours for them to see me the first night. Another pang pierced my stomach. If I hadn’t walked in on them in the kitchen, would they have ever told me?
No. The answer was no.
I clasped my throat, the pressure not letting me breathe. If I didn’t release this, I would explode. Those same shadows, the haunting pain, clouded my head, and I lashed an arm out for the razor. In a quick move, I slashed it down my arm, driving the blades from my wrist to my elbow.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Immediate release allowed me to breathe.
Blood bubbled to the surface, and a sob wracked my chest as the water turned red and a copper scent invaded my nose. The release was quickly overtaken by stinging. Sharp pain that made me curl forward, over my sliced-up arm.
My arm broke the surface of the water with a slap. Blood immediately spread throughout, like tendrils of crimson, infecting every inch until the water turned pink.
A loud, echoing, gut-wrenching scream left my mouth. Filled with every inch of my agony. My scream turned into a sob.
Everything was so fucking wrong.
An ache infected my throat, but I couldn’t stop the wail.
A loud banging echoed through the bathroom. I’d left the curtain open since I’d been taking a bath, so I had a clear view of the wood splintering off the hinges. It cracked open from the opposite side, dangling from the bottom hinge while leaning against the wall.
“Briar?” Kyan gasped. “What is—”
He clamped his mouth shut.
I opened mine to respond, but a sob exploded freely, loud and echoing.
Briar, he mouthed.
Another wave of cries left my lips, uncontrollable and body-wracking.
Kyan stumbled forward, his attentive gaze sweeping over my cut-up arm floating in the water.
“Fuck,” he choked out. He blurred in my vision, looking like a massive blob. “What the fuck?” he whispered repeatedly. I followed his gaze to my leaking arm, the shredded flesh gaping and gross.
I couldn’t feel my fingertips.
Arms wound around me and hoisted me out of the water. My sobs had calmed with his chest against my nude body. The biological effect that I wanted to destroy. He practically ran to the bed and sat me on the edge, winding a towel around my wounds with quick but gentle tugs.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, fastening the end of the towel. He left and returned just as quickly to toss another towel around my shoulders. My teeth chattered from how hard I shivered. Tears no longer blinded me, but the dry hiccupping mixed with whimpers continued to spill from my lips.
The door flew open.
“Elias passed out—” Sinclair cut off, his attention on the towel around my arm, where blood seeped through.
“What happened?” His eyes became shards of ice.
Kyan walked in from the bathroom at the same time, and Sinclair turned with a snarl.
“What happened,” he roared, getting in his face.
Kyan shouldered him as he shoved past.
“I-I don’t know, I found her like this.” He was already crouched next to me, placing the box on the bed. He looked over his shoulder, offering me the back of his head. He must have mouthed something to Sinclair because his gaze flared wider. “Sin, come look at it.”
Kyan’s hands kept trembling. He met my eyes, and his were shell-shocked. “I-I’m sorry I can’t stop it,” he croaked, flexing his shaking hands. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Sinclair was already kneeling in front of me, extending my limp, numb arm.
“We have to take her to the hospital.”
“It’s too dangerous. What if she’s recognized?” Sinclair said as he opened the towel. He hissed out a breath.
I followed his gaze to the bright red blood. Multiple jagged slashes adorned my skin in uneven slices from my wrist to the inside of my elbow.
“The razor.” It wasn’t a question. His mouth tightened at the edges, and his eyebrows knitted together. He carefully lowered my arm to rest upright on my thigh. I watched him, shuddering from the leftover sobs.
Weakness sank its claws into me like poison.
Sinclair rifled through the clear box, pulling out a bunch of items and lining them up. I didn’t have the energy to watch. His large hand grabbed my wrist and stretched out my arm, and he began to apply a gel with a sweep of his fingers.
Each pass was so sluggish and careful, it felt like he was moving in slow motion.
“Did you say Elias passed out?” Kyan murmured, keeping his voice soft. I opened my eyes a touch to watch them hovering so close, as if they’d lost the concept of personal space.
“He clutched his chest and then knocked out cold. Hit the ground bloody hard. I thought he was having a heart attack, but there were no other symptoms.” Sinclair leaned closer to the injury, “Now I know why.”
He felt an echo of my pain because of his claiming bite. He felt my agony . . . so what? I felt nothing about him. No twinge of satisfaction, no anger, just blank.
They kept talking about me like I wasn’t here, and I might as well not have been. I felt like I was outside of my body, floating as I watched. Every move felt detached.
“We should have a doctor come and check on it.”
“I’ll make some calls.” Kyan straightened and strode out of the room.
I met Sinclair’s eyes.
“How could you be so . . . so—” His lip curled, and a cloud worked over his features, morphing them into anger. “You are never to hurt yourself again.” His voice remained low and impassioned. I studied the tic in his jaw and his flaring nose. He was breathing oddly, too.
Now that I saw how he was behaving, how could I have missed it? They’d spent more time not breathing me in. It was because they recognized my unique scent that only a Scent Match would be able to smell.
All the fucking, all this desire . . .
“What do I smell like to you guys?” I asked, but my voice didn’t sound like it came from me, with the frantic edge.
They couldn’t be my Scent Matches. They just couldn’t.
Sinclair’s cheek twitched again, but he paused, rubbing the antibiotic on my cuts, and turned toward me.
He held my gaze for a few seconds, and then his eyes skittered away from mine as he swallowed so hard, his throat bobbed.
“Sweet, sugary cookies,” he moaned on the last word. There was no place for me to doubt, just like I could smell their chocolate scent and know.
Kyan entered, holding the phone to his ear as he spoke in a low, rushed tone.
“Never do something like this again,” Sinclair repeated, almost mechanically, capping the antibiotic and grabbing a bandage from a package.
“What is going on?” Elias’ voice echoed from the hall, his steps heavy until he reached the door. He was already a pale man, but he looked ghostly.
Elias scanned the bedroom and settled on my arm. Sinclair hadn’t even started to wrap it, so the wounds were exposed, raw, with the thin gel glistening on them.
“What the fuck?” He was hovering over me within seconds. “What happened?” His eyes wildly flicked over the injury.
There was no need to act like he hurt over me. None of them had to put on this show.
Elias groaned, clasping his chest.
“Briar,” he said and doubled over, hand slapping on the wall to brace himself as he pitched to the left. That’s what he gets for claiming me.
What must he be feeling if he was reacting this viscerally? With his one-sided claiming bite, he would only be able to taste a shadow of my emotions. I cocked my head, studying him. It was so odd, I floated over myself, watching everything happen again.
He seemed to collect himself, his breathing ragged and harsh. A touch on the side of my neck brought my focus to Sinclair. He rubbed his thumb over the side of my neck where the imprint of Elias’ teeth remained.
Even though they had their own Alpha bonds, the other two wouldn’t get feedback from Elias’ claim. Sinclair continued tending to my arm, wrapping it carefully.
While I’d been distracted, Elias had neared, hovering behind Sinclair.
“What happened to her?” Horror filled his green irises.
Sinclair’s mouth stiffened.
“I’m fine,” I said, no inflection in my tone. I sounded so odd.
He reached for me, but I flinched away, ruining Sinclair’s progress on the wrap.
Elias acted like I had punched him. He kept his attention on me, his throat bobbing. I could tell words bubbled behind his lips, but I didn’t want to hear them.
Sinclair made a half-hiss, half-grunt of anger, and he caught my arm. “Stop moving.” He started over, and this time tucked the end, so it wouldn’t loosen, working with quick, efficient motions.
I mustered the courage to look up at Elias. Shell-shocked and frozen, shaking his head.
“I found a doctor. Discreet, female, and experienced,” Kyan murmured from near the bathroom, finally getting off the call. He approached, steps slowing as he took Elias in. Thick tension clung to all of us.
“Done.” Sinclair caught my hand before I pulled away, and he squeezed it. I left it limp in his hold and met his gaze. His honey-brown gaze searched mine, and his mouth turned down.
“I want to sleep.” I tugged out of Sinclair’s grip and lay on my side, curling into a ball at the end of the bed. He flicked his attention over to me, and his jaw worked side to side. “Alone,” I added pointedly.
Elias stepped forward, and I tensed. Kyan’s hand fell on his shoulder, and he squeezed it, then tugged the blanket out from where it was tucked around the mattress. He stretched it over me, cocooning me in warmth. I closed my eyes, shuddering.
“I don’t want to leave her.” Elias’ tone forced me to look at his straining features.
Kyan kept trying to push him out, but Elias fought him.
“Come on, man, let her have some peace,” Kyan whispered in a steely tone.
“No,” Elias said, close to Kyan’s face as he bunched the front of his shirt. Elias’ eyes moved wildly from side to side.
Kyan met his dominance head-on, shoulders rolling higher, tension unleashing from his form. And he grabbed Elias in the same rough grip.
“She fucking cut herself, Elias,” Kyan roared. Elias stopped fighting against Kyan, and he stumbled backward. I yanked the blanket tighter around me, letting my mind drift. There was silence and a loud thump accompanied by a grunt.
A warm body curled over me, tucking closer like it could protect me.
Too late.
All too late.
“I’ll be near, sweets.” Sinclair was trying to comfort me, but it didn’t work.
I clenched my hand, and it sent a fresh sting down my bandaged arm. Footsteps retreated, and the door creaked, but didn’t shut.
Not when my mom passed away from heart complications, or when I worked endless hours trying to make something of myself, or even when I lost my home, had I been brought so low.
Shame devoured my insides, and I clenched my hand harder, wanting to feel the wave of pain to remind myself of my moment of weakness.
A moment of weakness I wouldn’t be able to take back.