11. Chapter 11
Rosalina
Deep breaths.
In through your nose. Out through your mouth.
“Keep your shit together,” I mumbled to myself.
Why should I bother muffling my words? No one could hear me, anyway. I could scream and no one would hear a thing. I’d tested that enough times to know. Even knowing, it made me feel a little better to be in control of something, even if that something was only the sound of my voice.
The smell of bleach and chemicals burned my nose, but I breathed, inhaling the sterile, plastic scent of sanitized bedding.
I hated it. It reminded me that I was dirty, and everything had to be bleached and boiled whenever I was forced to endure a heat in this place.
Even when I was so gone on sedatives and painkillers that all I could do was stare at the ceiling, the nest would be scrubbed.
That was the rule. Unbonded omega pheromones were too dangerous around alphas and had to be eradicated. No trace could be left.
I knew why now. I wasn't stupid. My father had to keep me from accidentally finding a scent-match. He couldn’t have one; now neither would I.
He needed me uncompromised and available to be bartered and bred to the highest bidder.
Lorenzo had what my father needed, and I was the price.
It had never been about keeping me safe.
Fuck my life.
It might almost be worth it to eradicate the Morenos, but at the cost of me bowing to Lorenzo?
No. Never. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Fuck bowing to an overbearing alpha.
I might try for my brother's sake, but how could I when I knew that his pack would take away my free will?
And after how his last omega had died… The possibilities were too dire, even if it was ruled an accident.
How does someone accidentally fall off a thirty-story balcony?
No way.
They either killed her, or she killed herself. Not sure which was worse.
There were any number of things that could have gotten her killed. At least I came with an eventual empire to rule over. That might keep me alive for a while, but I wasn’t willing to bet my life on it.
I could try to sneak away again, to escape, but those plans seemed unlikely with my big, bad, sexy babysitter outside. I’d already shown my hand when I went to the club with Claudia. That was a mistake. My father would be ready for it if I tried again. I was going to need a better idea.
I flopped back onto the blindingly white blankets.
They were soft and fluffy, more than most omegas would ever need, but they never felt like mine.
The cold cotton was crinkly and impersonal against my skin.
I pushed at it until I was cradled on all sides, but even bundled, it felt wrong.
It always felt wrong here, like nails scratching on the inside of my skull.
Was there something wrong with me? Was I broken? What omega didn’t love their nest? Nests were supposed to be calming. This place was anything but.
As sad as it was, it would’ve been better if they’d sedated me. At least then, my thoughts would be mercifully blank and the irritation dulled. Unfortunately, there were no drugs to keep the skin-crawling sensation at bay this time.
The intercom crackled, interrupting my rambling thoughts, and Maria’s sweet voice reached out to me. Something about lunch, but I'd buried myself in the pillows too well. All I could hear was the muffled hum of her words.
I considered rushing to the door. She might still be there to hug me and let me cry like I so desperately needed.
I knew better, though. If Maria had been using the intercom, she was already gone.
It was no use wishing for affection; my father wouldn't hear of it, anyway.
I wasn't a child anymore, and I had to be strong.
No whining, no sniffling, no coddling. Just the perfect, smiling omega.
A rueful laugh bubbled in my chest. Good fucking thing he couldn't see the tears staining my cheeks now. He'd love that. Sarcasm infused my thoughts.
I shoved the pillows aside. They weren't helping anyway. I really must’ve been broken because all this nest brought was bitterness and misery.
In the darkest corner of my memory, I knew it hadn’t always been this way.
The scent of lilies and lilacs drifted, locked in my dreams, where I’d buried them the day my mother left.
My nest had been like home before that day, when her perfume filled it.
But not anymore. And then the torture of my heat came along to obliterate any small scrap of comfort that might’ve survived.
My memories were a dull ache, with years of healing to dampen the pain, and yet they still lingered.
My stomach grumbled, breaking my train of thought and reminding me of Maria’s words.
I wondered when I'd eaten last. It was before I'd left to meet Claudia. Even though I’d missed breakfast and was currently missing lunch, I didn't have much of an appetite after the shit show this morning had turned into. But if Maria had left food, the least I could do was check.
I struggled through the thick, starchy bedding to the door. A relieved breath whispered from my lungs when the lock turned and it opened. I expected it to open, but sometimes it didn’t. A zip of fear tingled across my skin, remembering the claustrophobic feeling.
The small hallway and bathroom didn’t add much space, but I was able to breathe more easily.
The scent of bacon and syrup wafted over me as I wiggled off the nest platform and stepped into the dimly lit anteroom.
Maria was the best. I owed that woman my life.
Fluffy French toast with plenty of melty butter was waiting for me.
She knew exactly how to cheer me up. Even when it wasn’t breakfast, it was always time for French toast.
As I forked the first yummy cloud of custardy bread into my mouth, my sadness lifted.
Maria’s cooking was magic like that. Even when my heart wasn’t in it, I could taste the love she put into every item on that plate.
I was still upset over my father’s careless actions, and the memories this space conjured, but it helped bolster my strength.
My sorrow boiled away, and anger seeped into its place.
I set the utensils down with a clatter. There was enough to feed me ten times over on that tray, but thoughts of how my father had abandoned me after my mom left, and how he’d forced me to take prescriptions to smother my scent tumbled through my head, driving my appetite away.
The tiny, closet-sized room felt like it was shrinking, and the harsh LED lights from the nest glared in judgment. I was ruined because of him, and now he was selling me.
Everything felt itchy and wrong. The walls loomed, and the ceiling was a menacing weight overhead. Desperation and fury tightened my chest with every breath. I had to get out, but that fucking outer door stood in my way. I tested the handle. It didn’t budge. The door was as solid as could be.
“Let me out!” I screamed at the unyielding wood, the words bouncing back in my face, mocking me. I was never getting out of here. “Open this fucking door!”
My heart slammed against my ribs as I pummeled the cold, hard surface.
I took my rage out on the poor, undeserving thing, and when I’d finally exhausted myself, I laughed.
This was my own fault. If I’d been a better daughter, my mother wouldn’t have left.
If I’d been a boy, my father would’ve cared about me.
If my brother hadn't been murdered, he would have saved me from this mess.
God, I missed him. He would never have let them treat me this way.
I turned and let my back slide down the door until I was seated on the floor, my heart heavy in my chest. Abandoned again, wanted only as a commodity to trade.
All I’d ever wanted was freedom. I choked on a laugh at my lie.
The only thing I’d really wanted was love, but that was never going to happen. Everyone I'd cared about was gone, left, or killed in this ugly life. I wanted love, but I’d settle for freedom. That would have to be enough.
A shadow under the table caught my eye, and I leaned forward, brushing my fingertips over the soft fabric.
My hand closed around the stolen hoodie, and I dragged it to my chest, comforted by the faint clove and sandalwood scent that clung to it.
Just holding it calmed me, but that wasn't enough.
I needed it on me, all over me. I pulled off my shirt and tugged the hoodie over my head, feeling the fluffy softness on my bare skin.
Better. So much better.
I nuzzled into the collar where the scent was strongest, and my racing heart slowed to a crawl.
This was what I needed. But still, I wanted more.
I shimmied out of my jeans and was surprised to see my cell on the floor.
It must have fallen when I pulled the hoodie out.
That wouldn't get me out of here. I had no one to call for help, but at least my father hadn't taken it.
With my phone in hand, I kicked off my panties and crawled back into my nest, slamming the connecting door behind me. I jabbed the dimmer switch until blissful darkness washed over me.