Chapter 32 #2
I flinch, my mother’s voice slipping past my defenses before I can shove it down again. I shake myself, trying to force it out of my head.
The leggings that were left for me are a perfect fit, but the shirts are large.
I have to tie up the hem to keep it from tangling around my knees while I work.
I spend a lot of time on my hands and knees cleaning floors and folding laundry.
If I don’t tie the hem up, I wind up crawling on it and getting twisted up all day long.
I reach for my water bottle, intending to fill it at the bathroom sink, and freeze when my gaze snags on the floor.
Two blackened handprints are scorched into the stone. One on either side of my blanket. My breath stutters to a stop.
“What…?” I whisper, taking a hesitant step closer.
My first thought is that there’s a fire somewhere, but there’s no smoke. There’s no flame or heat anywhere, either. Nothing except the clean outline of two hands seared into the stone.
The edges are cracked. They spiderweb across the floor like clay baked too long beneath the hot sun. My lips feel numb. My fingers shake as I crouch between the handprints. Warily, I lower both hands until they hover directly over them.
A perfect match.
“What…” I repeat, voice shaking, “…the fuck.”
I jerk my hands away, stumbling upright. Thrusting them out in front of me, I search for any sign of soot or blisters from heat or… or… Fates, anything that will explain this.
What have I done?
I think back, replaying every moment since yesterday morning. I’m sure they weren’t here then. I went to the Lost Room. I worked. I came back up here. I fell asleep…
Then, Caelan. And Lenora.
Fates, I’d been so angry. So incredibly mad at Lenora for ripping me away from my Mate. I’d yelled….
Then I’d slammed my hands on the floor and—
And the stone had—
No. No, no, no. That isn’t possible. Omega’s don’t—we don’t—
How?
“Omega!” Cage’s voice is thunderous. “Did you just curse?”
I raise a shaking hand to my lips, mind spinning.
What do I do now? Do I tell him?
‘Don’t ever let them see, daughter. Hide everything. Hide.’
“Omega! Let’s go!”
“C-Coming! Sorry!” I yank the blanket and pillow over the scorched floor with shaking hands, haphazardly covering the prints as best I can and praying no one comes up here before I figure out how the heck I’ll get rid of them.
I throw open the door to a disheveled Cage, fist poised to knock again. He shoots me one of his signature dirty looks, eyeing me up and down in obvious distaste.
“What the hell took you so long?”
“I… uhh,” I flounder, searching for an excuse. “I couldn’t find any clean clothes.”
That’s the best I’ve got? Really?
He narrows his eyes at me. “Why were you cursing? I’ve never heard you curse.
” He says it like he thinks he knows me.
What makes it even worse is that he’s right.
I rarely curse. Of course, I’m pretty sure finding scorch marks burned into the floor in the shape of your own hands warrants at least one ‘fuck.’
“I found a clean shirt, but my pants were dirty. I don’t like wearing dirty clothes.”
Wow. Nailed it, Idril. Brilliant.
He snorts like he thinks I’m ridiculous. “Is that some kind of Omega thing?”
We reach the bottom of the stairs, and he lets the door swing shut in my face even though I’m clearly right behind him.
“Yeah,” I mutter, barely preventing myself from rolling my eyes as I catch the door with my fingers. “Must be an Omega thing.”
“You’ll be in here the rest of the day. With Dax.
” Cage smirks, pushing open the ornate double doors to the library.
The same room where Dax threw his whiskey glass at the wall behind me.
Not my favorite room in the castle, but there’s not much I can say.
It’s far from the worst place they’ve shoved me over the last week.
At least this room is warm. The bathroom I’m allowed to shower in has nearly-cold water, and I swear there are cracks in the stone that let the cold outside air in.
“Can I have something to eat for breakfast, please?” I direct my question to Cage, even though Daxen is standing three feet away.
Cage looks to Dax for an answer, then scowls at me like I somehow tricked him into looking inept.
I can’t win with this Alpha.
Thankfully, Dax answers before Cage can snap at me. “Cage will bring us all something from the kitchens. Nothing messy. I don’t want grease on the paperwork.” Cage shoots me another dirty look and walks out.
I keep my gaze on the floor. Another lesson my father taught me early, and one that I make sure not to forget since being brought here.
Never look your betters in the eyes.
I stand with my hands clasped, waiting for my orders for what feels like forever.
Finally, someone clears their throat from across the room.
I frown, sure, I hadn’t noticed anyone else in the room except Daxen when I came in.
Chancing a peek through my lashes, my gaze lands on the newcomer, and my body freezes.
Standing in front of the fireplace is a very tall, very good-looking male wearing a three-piece suit.
He’s broad, muscular, and covered in tattoos.
Bright light brown eyes twinkle with mischief when he catches me looking.
His features are sharp and angular, and he looks like the kind of man who wears a permanent smirk, like he knows a secret no one else does and isn’t telling.
He’s incredibly handsome. Possibly one of the most handsome males I’ve ever seen. It’s an objective sort of appraisal, though. Strangely, I feel nothing outside of a passing acknowledgement of his dark beauty.
There’s no burning heat flowing through my veins like there is when I look at Caelan.
Or… Vae and Dax.
I’ll only admit that in my head, though. I’d never say it out loud. It’s embarrassing enough that I find my Mate’s best friends attractive without taking into account the way they treat me. Acknowledging their beauty or how they make me feel isn’t something I like to do, even to myself.
The male stands taller and takes a few long strides in my direction. On instinct, I back up until I hit the edge of a large table.
He ignores my poor attempt at escape.
“Good morning, doll. I’m Riven.” He shoots me a cocky smirk and a wink, extending his hand for me to shake. “You must be the Omega.”
I eye his hand warily, then glance over his shoulder at Dax.
Is this some kind of trick?
“I won’t bite.”
I swear Dax mutters something under his breath that sounds like, “Oh, good gods, save me.”
“Get it?” Riven asks, chuckling. When I just keep staring at his open palm, he finally lets it drop and slides both hands into the pockets of his slacks.
“Get… what?” I ask
“Because I’m a vampire?” He winks. Again.
My lips curl. A shocked laugh almost breaks free. I bite my bottom lip, rubbing my palms together nervously as I peer around him again, making sure Dax isn’t getting mad.
Dax grabs Riven by the shoulder and hauls him away from me. “Alright, that’s enough. Omega, this is Riven. Riven, this is the Omega.”
I bite my tongue to keep from lashing out. His casual dismissal of me stings like a paper cut that’s not allowed to heal.
“Does the Omega have a name?” Riven asks.
I open my mouth to reply, but Dax beats me to it. “Her name doesn’t matter.”
And just like that, the wound tears open again.
Her name doesn’t matter.
She doesn’t matter.
I catch Riven’s expression before he turns his back. There’s a flicker of shock, like he can’t believe what Dax said, which only makes me feel worse. If his friends are shocked by his cruelty toward me, then that means he’s probably not normally a male who treats Omegas like trash.
I clear my throat and steady myself, breathing through the burst of irritation in my chest.
“What would you like me to do today?” I ask, obediantly keeping my eyes trained on the floor once more.
“Dax…” Riven murmurs, but Dax cuts him off.
“No,” he snaps. “You want to be here to help, so help. But you don’t get to say a word about how we handle her. If you want to run things, go back to Redmark.”
I expect Riven to back down. Everyone else does. Dax is always so self-assured, moving through the world with a level of confidence I can only dream of possessing.
Riven rocks back on his heels, hands still stuffed lazily in his pockets. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I’ll stay a while. Something tells me we might need some adult supervision if you’re going to keep acting like a fucking child.”
I lock my jaw to keep from gasping. Was that—did he just stick up for me? Dax’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look guilty or even the least bit uncertain. He just looks… annoyed, like he thinks Riven’s an idiot for questioning him.
“She’s a liar,” he says flatly. “And I don’t acknowledge liars.”
My fingers twitch, and I realize I’m rubbing the cotton of my shirt again. Dax and Riven both clock the motion. Dax’s scowl deepens, but Riven’s eyes narrow. He looks like he’s putting pieces together, but I don’t know what it is he’s trying to figure out.
I drop the fabric and clear my throat, just loud enough to remind them that I’m standing right freaking here.
‘Hide everything. Everything, dear girl.’
Fates, why can’t I get her voice out of my head today?
Her words are usually a comfort. A reminder of her love. But today the memories have a painful hook in my sternum, pulling me back in time.
Back to somewhere I don’t want to go. Not right now. Not when I don’t have the strength to face it.
“Omega, you’re going to be helping Riven and me today,” Dax says, like he didn’t just make me feel two inches tall.
“There are some old documents that need to be rewritten. Here.” He snaps his fingers in front of a chair on the other side of the table. It takes a second for me to process the action, but when I do, my vision narrows in anger.
He’s calling me—like I’m a dog.
I grind my teeth in irritation, but make my way around the table.
“Old documents,” I murmur.
“Yes.”