Chapter Twenty- Six
Willow
“Little Mouse. Little Mouse. It’s time to play.” The thick scent of antiseptic washes over me, making me heave violently. “Stand up.”
Malachi’s command rouses me, sending panic coursing through my veins.
Clenching my muscles, I attempt to rise.
Though my mind is screaming that I need to comply, my exhausted, bruised body refuses to move.
My fingers throb, broken at odd angles. I’ve tried to wiggle them back into place. It’s just not possible.
I don’t know how long we’ve been here, and the pain is endless. Days—or weeks—of starvation and dehydration have made me unbelievably weak, a specter of my former self.
“Pathetic.” Bates’ harsh voice cracks through the room, and I flinch.
Where the hell did he come from? The brutal beta is fully scentless, making it easy for him to sneak around.
Creepy asshole. His hands grab my arms roughly, yanking me to my feet before slamming my face into the wall.
Greedy fingers slide up my abdomen, moving the tatters of material that used to be my shirt with them.
He pinches me over and over until I whimper desperately.
Tears don’t even come anymore at the abuse, only sad little pleas for mercy.
“Stop fucking around,” Malachi snaps, gesturing to the door. “They’re closing in. We need to get her to the van before the feds get here.”
“Now that he’s dead, we have to break one of the omegas.
Force them to accept the pack’s bond. Then we can kill the other three.
We only need one to inherit the Banyan fortune.
” Bates pinches me again, grinding his stiff cock against my ass.
It’s filthy and demeaning. They haven’t fucked me yet…
Rosaline’s heat… Bile races up my throat once more.
Spots start behind my eyes, and I try to hold on, to make sense out of everything he revealed.
Does “he’s dead” mean they killed my father? I hunch forward, gagging and retching, though nothing comes out.
“See, look at how weak she is. The younger one refused every time. But this bitch. Bet she’ll be easy to break.” Bates fondles my breasts, tugging the nipples and twisting until sobs tear from my throat. “We’re just getting started, little mouse.”
There’s a loud bang, like an explosion, that forces him to stop.
Help? Anyone will be better than them.
“Oh, fuck! We need to hurry!” Malachi jumps forward, grabbing me by the hair and towing me behind him. The pain is excruciating, and my piercing shriek ricochets off the walls. Bates slaps me across the face, and the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth as the two men wrestle me toward the door.
Knowing that help is on the way, I dig deep, lashing out with my broken hands, hitting and slapping at my abusers, though each impact triggers unimaginable pain. Although I slow them down, I’m still no match, and they drag me out into the hallway.
“Cut it out, or you’ll end up like him.” With a sudden lunge, Malachi punches me squarely in the gut. All the breath whooshes out of me, and I find myself staring at the ground.
There’s a trail of blood seeping toward me, and my eyes follow the oozing liquid to the source…
“Willow! Willow!”
Strong hands hold me down, and I struggle, clawing and fighting my way out of the abyss. No longer weak and depleted, I rain blow after blow on my captors.
“Let go, let go,” I scream, and the hands immediately disappear, replaced by a snarling fury of fluff. What?
Rejoining the world is confusing, caught between nightmare and reality. All I can see is my father’s face, with blood pouring out of a hole right between his eyes. They shot him. Pack Mordred—and now they’re coming for me.
Throwing my arms out wildly, I try to shove away the imaginary ghosts.
Blood. Copper invades my mouth. The taste of it on my lips, coating my tongue as Bates shoves my face into his escaping life force—nearly drowning me.
No. No. No. I try to twist my head to the side, but nothing helps.
Nothing stops the images from coming, from pouring through me like a sieve.
“Omega, open your eyes,” a rough voice barks, and the Alpha command cannot be ignored. I obey, and Bruce’s face is the first thing I see, snapping and snarling to ward off my demons, both real and imaginary. Blinking a few times, I bring everything into focus.
Bed.
Navy blanket.
Bruce.
He stands in front of me, ready to rip my scent-matched Alphas to shreds.
Both of them.
“It’s okay, boy. I’m all right.” I reach for his downy fur and run my fingers through it.
He calms instantly, but keeps his body between me and the Alphas.
As reality settles in, I slow my breathing and get my emotions in check.
Glancing around, I realize that I’m in Lincoln’s bed, and wonder for a moment how I got here.
The last thing I remember is the mind-blowing orgasm that sent me into orbit.
Red blossoms on my cheeks at the memory, heat flushing through me, making fresh slick gather along my pussy lips.
Holy shit, I’m naked.
The realization is horrifying. With a panicked squeak, I dive under the covers as the pheromones rise around me, deepening with lust and desire.
“Come back, little honeybee. I like having eyes on you,” Cujo cajoles as I huddle deeper. His words are met with a thud. In my mind’s eye, I see Lincoln punch him, hopefully right in the nose, but it sounds more like a shoulder.
“Get out!” Lincoln demands, despite the fact that I hear the scuffle of feet, they don’t go nearly far enough to be gone.
“No. I’ll turn around, though.” It’s more than I expected, and I appreciate it.
“Can someone go get my clothes?” I’m too embarrassed to poke my head out of the blanket fort.
“I have a better idea. How about you invite me under the blanket and let me show you how good I can make you feel?” It’s Cujo again, and I can’t help the giggle that builds in my throat at his playful antics.
Though his scent is thick with desire, I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to curb my mortification.
Still, my body responds to his offer, my nipples pucker, and slick gushes from me. Having not just one but two Alphas completely focused on my pleasure conjures all the fantasies I used to entertain before.
Jeez. I need to get it together. And quickly.
“How about a raincheck?” I mutter from deep within my hidey hole, not wanting to completely turn him down. It’s not the right time; right now, I need space.
The bed creaks, then dips, and from the proximity of the mouthwatering caramel-apple scent, I know Lincoln is nearby. The blanket is tugged gently away from my face, but I clutch it tighter, only allowing my eyes to peer out.
“Baby girl, I know you’re embarrassed, but trust me, you have no reason to be.
Every inch of you is gorgeous. More importantly, though, what’s got you so afraid?
” His tone is serious, and for a minute, I want to unload my burdens on his broad shoulders.
The trial. Pack Mordred. My fears about Aspen.
My poor sister. The one left behind. My heartbeat thunders, pounding in my ears and making the room spin.
I want to tell him everything, borrow his strength, and bask in his scent. But Gavin’s warning echoes to me from the abyss of my mind.
“Don’t forget, Wilhelmina. Tell no one. The only way for you and your sisters to survive this is by hiding.
I want to find Aspen. Desperately. But she won’t forgive me if you die in the process.
No one can know who you are, what you are, or what’s happened to you.
As far as the world is concerned, you all died that day.
You’re no longer Wilhelmina. Now, you’re Willow.
No connections. No sharing. Keep the past locked up tight. Promise me.”
His voice had cracked, and in that moment, I realized there was more going on than just a psychotic pack and my dead parents. Aspen was gone, and my life was now forfeited. Wilhelmina was dead, and it was time to spend the rest of my life weighed down by the secrets.
Alive, but not living.
Surviving, but not thriving.
Existing on scraps of friendship, I can’t accept. It’s lonely, but for the last eight months, I’ve managed, sure that whatever Aspen is going through is exponentially harder.
Of course, neither of us foresaw this scenario. The two men in the room are a conundrum I have no idea how to figure out. My instincts want them. Yearn for them. Long to find out what we could create together.
But with an ocean of secrets between us, there can never be a real future. It’s all overwhelming, soul-crushing.
I need to get out of here.
Without my testimony, Malachi goes free. Aspen will remain lost forever, and I’ll always be hiding, one slip of the tongue away from death. Scent-matches or not, they can’t know.
“It’s time for me to leave.” From my puddle of blankets, I try to make my voice sound strong, although the effort of keeping everything inside makes me tremble.
At my declaration, both Alphas growl. Physically, I’m not afraid. They won’t hurt me. But one insistent bark. One Alpha command to speak would have my skeletons scattered across the floor.
And any hope of finding Aspen will be lost.
“You’re not going anywhere, honeybee,” Cujo rumbles; he takes up the entire doorway. My Alpha remains with his back turned, allowing me privacy while keeping me locked away.
“We can’t help if we don’t know what has you so afraid, baby girl,” Gy tries more tactfully. “We can see the fear in you, the way you flinch and look over your shoulder even when there’s no one watching. Your hands…”
They begin to throb, the ever-present ache growing with my anxiety.
Words bubble up my throat, but a ball of emotion keeps them deep within. Linc and Cujo want something, anything, any piece of me. But I don’t know how to give them that without revealing my past. And if they go searching for it, they’ll realize that danger follows me, lurking around every corner.
“Get my clothes and let me go.” Pushing away their offer of comfort with all my might, I stand firm.
With a deep sigh, Gy listens. He rises from the bed and goes over to his dresser.
The drawers shift, opening and closing, until he returns, dropping a shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the edge of my cocoon.
“They’re going to be too big, but I think you’ll feel better in something of mine.
Cujo and I will leave you to get dressed, then please come out into the living room.
” His tone leaves no room for questioning it, and I nod, trying not to cry as he walks away.
Although space is what I’ve asked for, it’s not what I want.
No. What I want is to know Aspen’s safe. But something churns in my gut. A whisper of fear on the wind. And I know she’s absolutely not.