Chapter Fourteen #2
I turn around and look through the doorway. Sera is in the bath in her underwear, both Omegas cradled against her chest. Espie on her left, Aubrey on her right. Their heads rest against her shoulders. Her arms wrap around them, holding them steady.
Thank the Gods.
They're letting her touch them. Hold them. Care for them. This is huge. Aubrey is cradled against Sera's chest, eyes half-closed, body loose.
She's purring for them, and the thrum of it fills the bathroom, bouncing off the tiles, wrapping around all three of them like a cocoon.
The omegas melt into her, their breathing slowing to match the rhythm of her purr.
Espie's dark curls fan out across the surface.
Aubrey's ash-blond hair is plastered to his forehead, and he looks so young, so fragile, so nothing like the empty shell he has been.
Sera’s gaze meets mine. One look at her and I know she’s thinking the same. Water laps against tan skin. Steam curls around the curve of her shoulder. Her bra has gone transparent in the water, her dark nipples a shadow beneath transparent white cotton. My mouth goes dry. Heat crawls up my neck.
“Lex can help wash you.” Sera holds my gaze. “He'll be quick and gentle. Is that okay?”
Espie's violet eyes flick to me. Her hand tightens on Aubrey's arm under the water.
Aubrey looks at me too. He holds my gaze for one heartbeat. Two. His hand finds Espie's under the water.
“Okay.”
One word. Broken. Barely audible. Aubrey's voice. My throat closes. My eyes burn. I blink hard, fast. I will not cry in front of them. I will not make this about me when they're the ones who need comfort.
“Thank you.” I clear my throat. “I'll be careful. I promise.”
I kneel beside the tub. The tile is cold through my pants. I brace my hands on the porcelain edge and focus on the task. The task. Not the skin. Not the steam. Not the way Sera's arms flex when she shifts Aubrey's weight.
My hand shakes as I reach for the shampoo. Aubrey’s scars are impossible to ignore from this close. I’ve seen them before, but standing here, on the verge of touching him, changes something inside me.
His neck bears the evidence of the collar.
A ring of raised tissue circling his throat.
Axel Turns made him wear a collar so tight it scarred him.
Made him crawl in it. Made him kneel at his feet like some sort of slave, instead of the precious gift he is.
I've seen the photos. Everyone in Omega advocacy has seen the photos.
The broken Omega on his knees at Commissioner Turns' feet.
His back is a map of violence. Pale skin crossed with white lines, some faded to silver, some still pink with healing.
Whip scars. I knew they were there. I've glimpsed them before, caught sight of them when the nurses helped him change, catalogued them in the quiet hours when I sat beside his chair and tried not to stare.
Knowing doesn't make it easier. Seeing them up close, with my hands about to touch him, is something else entirely.
Espie’s wrists are ringed with scarring. Restraint marks. Layer upon layer, skin rubbed raw and healed and rubbed raw again until the damage became permanent. Her ankles match, the same angry welts.
The insides of her arms are a map of needle marks. Track lines from IVs, from injections, running from her inner elbows down to her wrists. Dozens of them. Hundreds. She's twenty-four years old and her body looks like a war zone.
I breathe through my nose, slow, controlled. I will not vomit. I will not show them how horrified I am. If I react, if they see the disgust on my face, they'll think I'm disgusted by them instead of by what was done to them.
How does someone do this? How does any alpha look at an omega, vulnerable, trusting, theirs to protect, and do this?
Sera is already watching me, grief burning bright in the depths of her gaze. The rage she's holding back. She knows. She's seen all of this and the fire in them promises retribution. On this, we’re aligned.
Her purr never falters, but her grip hardens against the side of the tub hard enough for her knuckles to pale. The control in her expression suddenly looks less effortless and more like something she's forcing into place by sheer will.
I work shampoo through Aubrey's hair, my fingers against his scalp, gentler than I've ever touched anything in my life. Every muscle in his body goes rigid and I freeze. Don't move. Don't breathe.
One second. Two. Three.
His head tilts back, just a fraction, giving me better access. He groans, just a slight sound and my cock swells, making my pants tight. I ignore myself. He's letting me touch him.
“You're doing great,” Sera murmurs. “Almost done.” Sera’s either talking to him or me. I don’t care. I’ll take whatever she wants to say to me too.
I rinse Aubrey’s hair clean and I move to Espie.
She tenses when my hands touch her head but doesn't pull away.
Violet eyes open, watching me, so I keep my movements slow and predictable.
Her hair is thick and curly, tangled from days without care, and I tease out the knots instead of pulling.
Her eyes drift closed again. Not relaxed, but not fighting me either.
Aubrey's breathing has slowed. The warmth of the water, the gentleness of the touch, and Sera's arms wrapped around him are finally pulling him under. Both omegas are fading now, their heads drooping and their bodies growing heavy against Sera's chest. Whatever reserves they had left are gone.
“Stay with me,” Sera says. “Just a little longer. Then you can sleep.”
Espie makes a small sound. I work conditioner through Aubrey's hair, then Espie's.
“Just give me a moment and I’ll get your clothes.
” I slip out of the bathroom hoping none of them see the tent at the front of my pants and find the shopping bags Kev left.
I duck back inside just as Sera helps them out of the bath one at a time.
Espie's legs wobble the moment her feet hit the tile and Sera catches her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Water pools on the floor beneath them.
Aubrey grips the edge of the tub, knuckles white, arms shaking as he tries to pull himself up. He can't do it and a pitiful whine escapes him.
“Purr for him,” Sera says. “Help him.”
I let my purr roll up from my chest, keeping it low and soft. The effect is instant. Aubrey's grip on the tub loosens, and his breath comes out in a shaky exhale instead of panicked gulps. He's responding to my purr. Holy shit.
I want to punch the air. I want to drop to my knees and thank every god I've never believed in.
“I've got you, Aubrey. Please, let me help.” I keep my voice low and reach for him slowly, telegraphing every movement.
My hands wrap around his arms, careful, so careful, and I lift him over the edge of the tub.
He weighs nothing. Skin and bones and not much else.
I wrap a towel around his shoulders and he stands there swaying, eyes half-closed.
He leans into the friction as I dry him. Just barely. Just enough that I notice.
I notice everything about him. Every twitch, every breath, every millimeter he doesn't pull away. I fumble in the bags and retrieve soft pajamas. Cotton. Loose fit. I hand a set to Sera and she nods, already turning to Espie.
Aubrey stands shivering in front of me, towel wrapped around his shoulders, eyes unfocused. I keep my purr going, and reach for the shirt.
“Arms up,” I say softly. “That's it. One at a time.”
He lifts his arms. Shaking, barely coordinated, but he lifts them. I slide the shirt over his head, careful not to catch the fabric on his ears, and guide his arms through the sleeves. The cotton brushes against his skin and he shivers again, though whether from cold or something else I can't tell.
We should have brought him home. We should have fought harder to get him out of the Omega Healing Center. Instead we left him there, watching him deteriorate in that sterile room with its sterile smells and its sterile staff who didn't know him, didn't love him, didn't—
I'm spiraling. I know I'm spiraling. I force myself back to the task.
“Pants now,” I murmur. “Hold onto my shoulder if you need to.”
His hand lands on my shoulder. Feather-light, trembling, but there. I crouch down and guide his feet into the pajama pants one at a time, pulling them up over his hips. They're huge on him. The waistband gapes and the legs pool around his ankles. I tie off the waist so they stay up.
“There you go.” My voice comes out rough. “All done.”
Sera has finished dressing Espie, but she's still standing there in her wet underwear, water dripping down her legs, goosebumps breaking out across her skin. Her nipples pucker beneath her wet bra.
She's fucking stunning and she doesn’t seem to know. She’s different to the omegas, all lean muscle and quiet strength, but no less alluring. Her wet curls cling to her neck and her amber-gold eyes are fixed on Espie and Aubrey, checking they're okay, always checking on everyone else—
Gods. I'm a pervert. My mates are standing right there, and I'm ogling the female alpha who just bathed them. I shove the thought down and rummage in Kev's bag. There's another set of clothes at the bottom. I pull them out and hold them toward her.
“These are for you.”
“Uh, thanks,” she says. Surprise flickers across her face, like she didn't expect anyone to think of her.
I don't like that look on her. She should know she'll be looked after here.
We barely know each other, but it doesn't matter.
Our omegas have bound us together. She's pack now, whether she realizes it or not.
Funny how quickly the realization lands like it was always there.
We walk Espie and Aubrey back to the bedroom. Espie leans on Sera. Aubrey's fingers graze the inside of my wrist. I keep up my purr the same way Sera keeps her purr going. My mate’s skin is against mine, warm from the bath and smelling sweet and clean.
My throat closes. My eyes sting. He's letting me be close. Exhaustion might be doing the work that trust can't yet, but he's letting me.
I'll take it. I'll take anything.
They walk to the corner behind the bed, back to the duvet on the floor.
They lower themselves down, slow and stiff, every movement costing them.
Espie tucks herself against Aubrey's chest and his arm wraps around her.
For one moment I think this is it. Progress. They're clean, warm, safe, and maybe—
Aubrey drags the duvet over both their heads, sealing themselves inside.
Gone. Three feet away from me and gone.