Chapter 26 #3
Neither of us moves. I study her, trying to understand what the fuck’s going on.
What is this female up to? It’s almost like she’s…
Disassociating.
Fuck.
My eyes narrow in anger. No. That simply won’t do.
I need her present and paying attention, not escaping into her own mind to avoid choices she doesn’t want to make.
“Omega!”
Nothing. She doesn’t look away from the fire.
Her body is scarily still. Her fists slowly unclench, each slim finger unfolding until her hands hang limply at her sides. Her blue eyes are glazed over. I can see a single flame, flickering wildly in the reflection of her tears.
A shudder of unease prickles along my scalp.
“Idril!”
I hate that I have to use her name. I hate the way it feels and tastes on my tongue, even more.
It works, though. With strangely deliberate, measured movements, she pulls her eyes off the fire.
They lock with mine.
An empty void looks back at me. Her body moves like someone else is controlling it. The feeling of unease intensifies.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen something that genuinely unsettles me. I wonder if the way I feel now is how Vae feels when he pokes at a loaded weapon with a stick.
“Yes?”
The Omega’s voice is barely a whisper. A soundless shout in an empty room. I try, and fail, to shake off the unease that’s settled over me.
“Do you want the blanket, or not, Omega? I’m happy to throw it into the fire you find so interesting.”
Fates, I need to relax. Calm down. So the Omega didn’t react the way I expected her to. It’s no reason to lose control. If anything, this little interaction has given me insight into her. I’ll be better prepared in future interactions.
The female is obviously a talented actress.
Then again, she’d have to be to dupe Caelan.
And that’s fine. I won’t underestimate her. I simply need to adapt.
She spends another half minute studying me, her eyes flitting over my face, searching for clues to the game she thinks I’m playing. Then hesitantly, like she knows she’s being set up but doesn’t have a choice, she inclines her head. Agreeing to play my game.
I allow a calculated smile to spread across my face.
“You can have it.”
I memorize the startled, hopeful look in her eyes. Feel the control I lost returning. My smile widens.
“You can have it as soon as you explain why you set Caelan up.”
She recoils like I struck her.
Giving her hope right before crushing it under my heel has made the moment so much more satisfying.
I prepare for a fit—a tantrum. Omegas are spoiled. Especially rich, human Omegas. She won’t be used to being told no, let alone having to barter for what she wants. Setting her up is bound to aggravate her further.
Her face contorts painfully. A single tear spills from long lashes, leaving a trail of wetness on her cheek. I can’t look away. I follow its path as it tracks over the corner of her lips, hangs precariously on her chin, before falling to land on the stone floor.
It’s oddly satisfying knowing that before it’s all said and done, I’ll ensure the foundation of our home tastes rivers of her tears.
When I’m stabbed with an unexpected pang of something that feels a lot like shame, all I have to do is picture my brother in the medical wing.
Then the shame disappears, replaced by a simmering, fiery rage that settles in my spine.
To my shock, the Omega swipes away the tears from her cheek and squares her shoulders. She lifts her chin. Her blue eyes flash with fire.
I have to admit, for such a tiny, pitiful, little thing, she sure puts on a brave face.
We both know it’s bullshit.
“I did not set Caelan up.” Her words are steady, but her voice shakes. “I tried to help him.”
“Tried to help him,” I sneer, throwing the words back to her. I stalk toward her, releasing a cruel laugh that hangs in the air between us.
“You tried to help him. Is that what you call it? Helping?”
I’m in her space now, close enough to see the exact color blue of her irises.
“Let me tell you what helping means, Omega.” My voice drops to a hiss. “Helping is warning someone before they’re attacked. It’s getting them away before they get hurt.”
I lean in, wishing she weren’t on suppressants, so I can smell the fear rolling off her.
“What you did wasn’t help. It was cowardice. It was deceit. Whatever you did to make my brother believe you were worth saving—I want to know what it was. I want to know what lies you fed him. What plan you had for him.”
I’ve moved so close I can feel the vibrations of her body as it shakes.
“If you really want to help, you’ll tell me the truth.
You’ll tell me what your father’s doing.
What his plans are. How you’re involved.
If you have a sliver of morality or decency left inside your pretty, empty shell, you’ll be fucking honest. Instead of begging and pleading for us to believe you have some kind of Fated Bond with my packmate. Which we both know is bullshit.”
“That’s not true,” she insists, but her voice breaks. “I never did anything to—to—make him believe something false about me. I didn’t deceive him. I would never deceive him. That’s not what happened.”
Her jaw clenches, and the fear and despair in her eyes morph into something hotter. Sharper.
Rage.
Ah, there it is.
It seems the little doll actually does possess a bit of a backbone. How interesting.
I scoff. “Isn’t it? Explain something to me, Omega.
Explain how Caelan failed to notice your father and his men arriving.
Do you have any idea how good vampire hearing is?
He should have heard that asshole’s car a mile out on that gravel drive.
Yet somehow, he was so fucking sidetracked by your performance that he missed it completely. ”
My fangs throb as I relive the moment I realized we’d fallen into a trap. One that was set for him. It’s been days, but the panic still hasn’t gone away.
“He was on his way toward your wing, the one place he wasn’t supposed to be. And what do you know?” My voice is callous, but I don’t give a shit. “He gets ambushed. And now he’s in a coma, after nearly dying.”
The rage dissipates, like it never even existed.
Her eyes are scarily empty again, fixated on something over my shoulder. She looks like she’d rather crawl into the roaring fireplace than be forced to acknowledge the world around her any longer.
My fingers tighten around my whiskey glass as my anger builds.
Who the fuck does this female think she is? She doesn’t get to ignore me. She doesn’t get to ignore what happened because it’s hard to hear.
Especially not when it’s her godsdamned fault!
“Explain it to me, Omega. Because there were only two people in that house. One of them is fighting for his life in the infirmary, and the other one is you.”
She falters, stumbling back a step. I follow, keeping pace with her.
“Come on, Omega.” My voice is blade-sharp. The throbbing in my fangs intensifies. My head pounds, but I can’t stop.
Won’t stop.
“Make me fucking understand!” I shout.
“Make me understand how a warrior, with centuries of experience ghosting through high-security strongholds, somehow let your human father get the jump on him.”
Out of nowhere, I’m slammed with that same sense of unease from before. Something inside me screams, warning me to back off. But I’m too angry. Too worked up.
Yelling feels good. Losing control, for once in my life, feels far too good to stop now.
The Omega’s voice wavers when she answers.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know.” I echo. “I suppose you have no idea why your father thanked you, repeatedly, for bringing Caelan to his attention. Or why he told Caelan you performed beautifully.”
I wait for the denial, the reaction, the anger.
Nothing.
She has no verbal response, but her eyes are as wide as saucers, and her mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ of shock.
Satisfied, I lean back. Her response is confirmation that she had no idea I heard what happened that night. Unless she saw Caelan’s comm, she wouldn’t know I was listening.
She would have been ignorant of the terror that was clawing apart my insides as I listened to my best friend—my brother and packmate—walk into a trap. While I was too far away to help.
Her head tilts to the side, and a look of confusion slowly overrides the shock. Her lips part. She wants to ask a question, but she doesn’t.
“Speak, Omega.”
She hesitates, just long enough for me to wonder if she’s going to back down.
Then she winds up and takes a swing.
“It’s just… if you could hear everything happening…” She chews her lower lip. It’s obvious she’s second-guessing her decision. I glare at her, and her eyes fill with determination.
“If you heard everything, then why didn’t you warn Caelan that my father was coming?”
She can’t know. Can’t have a clue the way she landed a direct hit to my pride, but she did.
I’ve been beating myself up over that exact fuck-up the last two straight days, and she just threw it in my face. I don’t give a shit if she didn’t know she was poking a wound.
A snarl explodes from my chest. The Omega scrambles back from me, but I’m not falling for her victim act.
I stalk her across the room and roar, “Because your entire fucking house was warded, and it fucked with my security!”
My breaths saw through my lungs painfully.
“You had wards up, then they went down, and then out of nowhere they went up again. Only one of my drones worked, and it glitched almost right as he walked into your house.”
The explanation tumbles out. I shouldn’t care what this girl thinks. I shouldn’t feel vulnerable when she points out my failure. It shouldn’t strip me bare.
She’s nothing. Worthless. Her opinion doesn’t fucking matter.
So why do I feel like I have something to prove to her? Why do I NEED her to know I can protect her?
Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’m breathing too hard. My chest heaves. I take a long, slow breath. Trying to rein in my anger. I refuse to let her see how she gets to me.