Chapter 32 #3
“To be… rewritten?” Why would he assign me a task like this?
Don’t be stupid, he has no idea this is something you’d enjoy.
“Yes. Gods, you can read, can’t you?” He asks in disgust.
“Y-yes?” I stutter, shocked by his question. I don’t dare look at him as I maneuver around his large body before sinking into the chair.
Just the heat of him at my back has tingles racing up my spine.
“Oh, good. Wasn’t sure with the way you’re repeating every fucking word out of my mouth.”
I flinch.
Dax continues, circling the table to face me. His expression is full of mockery. I can already feel pressure building behind my eyes, and I clench my jaw to keep my tears back.
“Then again, if I remember correctly, you never finished school past 6th grade, isn’t that right?”
I recoil. The satisfied gleam in his eyes when he hears my breath catch is hurts worse than his taunt.
He relishes the pain he causes with his cruel words. Somehow, he knows all my most shameful secrets and uses them to pick at every wound I have.
How does he even know Father took me out of school right before Junior High?
I curl my hands into fists, my nails digging into the flesh of my palms until the pain grounds me enough to speak without crying.
You are not ignorant. I remind myself. This Alpha doesn’t know everything about you.
“I was homeschooled.” I choke out, eyes trained on the table. “Registered under a false name. I took college classes online. Plenty of Omegas do that.”
That was the excuse my father gave me. My designation came in, and all of a sudden, I wasn’t fit for society anymore.
He couldn’t have an ‘untrained idiot Omega’ living under his roof, so I did my schooling online.
He said it was normal. That it wasn’t fair to the Alphas and Betas trying to get an education if we were ‘whining and perfuming all over the place.’
Never mind that I’d been on suppressants since the day I turned thirteen.
“You took college classes,” Dax says flatly.
“Yes.” I dig my nails in harder, trying to force down the heat in my cheeks. I know I have nothing to be embarrassed about. I loved school. I would have continued my classes if I’d been allowed.
If it hadn’t turned into yet another thing for Father to hold over my head before ripping it away from me.
“What was your favorite subject?” Riven asks.
I glance up, studying him, trying to gauge his sincerity. When I find only curiosity, my shoulders relax. I’m not sure if he’s asking because he’s really interested, or if he’s just trying to rescue me from Daxen’s hurtful assumptions, but I’m thankful either way.
“Literature. I love stories.”
I’m not sure how much I should say. Is this the part where he makes fun of me? Will he piggyback off of Daxen’s cruelty to embarrass me further?
Riven smiles, and… it looks real. Real enough that, faced with the possibility of having an actual conversation for the first time in months, I take a leap of faith.
“I’ve always found it fascinating the way people unite around stories. History, fables, even secrets. They’re all just stories.” My words start soft, but I gain traction once I that Riven’s actually paying attention.
He’s listening to me. Really listening. In fact, he looks almost… excited.
I sit a little straighter, genuine happiness blooming for the first time in weeks.
“So much of our lives revolve around them. It’s not just the information they contain, but the way they make us feel. That’s what I love most. The way a good book can make you feel something entirely new. They’ve always felt a bit like, well…” I hesitate, blushing.
Riven smiles. “Go on.”
“They’ve always felt a bit like… magic.”
Instead of berating me and calling me a child, Riven’s eyes light up with excitement. His lips part and—
“Truly riveting, Omega.”
My spine straightens, my shoulders hunching up to my ears. Daxen’s voice is flat, but I recognize the look in his eyes. I brace myself, fingers flying to the fabric of my shirt.
Whatever he says next will be designed to inflict maximum damage.
“You know, it actually makes sense,” he muses, leaning back and studying me with disgust. “Such a sad story you spun. A poor little Omega, all alone in her big, lonely mansion with her psychotic daddy, who took her soft, pretty things away. A sad little captive with big blue eyes, desperate for an Alpha’s help. A fragile bird in need of rescue.”
He leans forward, hands braced on the table between us. “And what do you know? You told the story so well, Caelan bought it.”
I don’t dare meet his eyes. I can’t. Each word out of his mouth is like a slap to the face. I hate him. I hate how he makes me feel. Like I’m small and worthless and—
“Look at me.” He demands.
I shake my head in refusal, wringing my hands together hard enough that my knuckles turn white. Whatever he’s about to say, I know it’ll break me if I have to look in his eyes while he says it.
“Daxen—” Riven’s voice is hard, but his warning’s wasted.
“Look at me, Omega.”
The Alpha Command hits me like a punch to the sternum. The loss of agency knocks the wind out of me. My eyes snap up, meeting his gaze. My fingers dig painfully into my thighs, and no matter how hard I bite my lip, I can’t keep tears from spilling.
Why? Why did he do that?
It’s the one thing—the only thing—they haven’t done to me. It’s the only line that separates these males from my father, and Daxen obliterated it with two words.
He proved just how easily he can take away my free will without a care in the world.
A whine rips up my throat and claws out before I can stop it. The look of disgust when he hears the sound makes me curl in on myself, shrinking into nothing. I’d sink into the back of my chair if I could.
Shame heats my cheeks. The worst part is that no matter how far I try to fold in on myself, I’m forced to hold his eyes while I do it.
Fighting his Alpha Command is like trying to wrap my arms around the sun—painfully impossible.
Dax’s voice is somehow even more cruel when he continues. “Caelan risked everything for your story, didn’t he?”
I don’t answer. I can barely take a breath, let alone force words out of my throat. “He risked everything for your lie. Your story. And look where it got him.”
His accusation hits exactly where he wanted, and I hate him for it. Because in some small way, it’s true. Caelan meeting me was the start of our story. The catalyst for all the bad that came after.
But that isn’t the whole story. And it certainly isn’t the end of ours.
And this asshole?
He’s missing quite a few chapters.
My teeth bite into my bottom lip so hard copper explodes on my tongue. But it’s not pain making my chin tremble, or my hands shake.
It’s rage. White-hot, desperate, furious rage.
At Daxen. At my father. At every male who has ever made me feel like I’m not good enough, or not strong enough, or a burden for simply being alive.
Worthless. A liar. Something to be discarded.
I hate them all.
“Daxen, that’s enough.” Riven’s voice changes into something dangerous, but Dax holds my stare, unwavering.
Riven stands so fast his chair scrapes across the floor and hits the table behind him with an echoing crack!
The moment Riven takes a step in his direction, Dax looks away.
The movement releases me from his Command.
It’s like coming up for air after being held underwater until my lungs burn.
I dig my fingers into my thighs even harder in an effort to ground myself. I press harder, so hard, I know my skin will bruise. I try to breathe, but it doesn’t help. Nothing’s working. Nothing can hold back the panic attack pressing in.
I can sense it. The anxiety of not having control of my own body coils in my chest and slithers through my limbs.
My shoulders start shaking, followed by my arms. The shudders expand through my body until even my teeth are chattering uncontrollably.
“Breathe, Omega.” Riven’s voice switches back to a silky soft melody. It wraps around me, filling me with a strange sense of recognition.
Riven… he feels familiar. Like a story I knew in another life.
I didn’t hear him move, but he must have pulled my chair back from the table to give me space. He’s in front of me now, but I can’t look at him. Can’t open my eyes at all.
I just need a second. Just a second.
I must speak out loud, because Riven murmurs, “That’s fine. Take your second, sweetheart. Daxen’s gone.”
I need to push it back. Shove the last five minutes into the box where I keep every memory that feels like having my soul shredded into tiny pieces. My mother’s death, watching Caelan get shot, all the terrible things my father’s ever said or done to me.
And now this—my Mate’s best friend using Alpha Command while firing hate at me like bullets.
‘Hide it away, my love.’
My mother’s voice drifts into my mind. Exhausted, I lean into it, wrapping her words around me like armor.
And I obey.
I hide everything. Shut it down, force it into that box, and shove it as far back as I can.
I blink. The floor sharpens, coming back into focus. I glance up and see Riven, still crouched in front of me.
”Wow.” He murmurs. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or really fucking disturbed.”
“What?” I croak. My voice sounds broken. Raw. It sounds like how I feel inside.
“Your turnaround time from Omega breakdown to emotional lockdown was borderline terrifying.”
He studies my face, and something shifts in his expression. Recognition, maybe. Or maybe it’s horror.
“That kind of reaction doesn’t just happen. It’s usually learned. After years and years of damage.”
“Twenty-two of them,” I whisper. The words escape before I can think to censor myself. There’s something about Riven that makes me want to tell him all my secrets and show him all my scars.
He hums low in his throat. The sound is dripping in disgust. Not at me, though, I realize.
At what’s been done to me?
He jolts, and his eyes snap to his wrist. He runs a finger gently over the black beads of a bracelet, then looks up at me with wide, shocked eyes.
“It doesn’t work on you,” he breathes in surprise.
I frown. “What doesn’t?”
The sound of the doors flying open echoes through the room. I whip my head around and see Vaelenor strolling into the library with a cocky grin on his face.
I’m too raw to handle him right now, so I turn back to Riven and lower my eyes—
And rear back when I notice two large holes in my leggings.
Two imprints, on the top of both thighs, the edges singed like heat tore straight through the cotton. Both in the perfect shape… of handprints.
My handprints.
A strangled sound escapes before I can stop it, my stomach swooping uncomfortably.
Oh gods, what is happening to me?
‘My sweet girl… You know what to do…’
I yank down my shirt, unraveling the knot tied into the side. I thank all the gods and Fate that the fabric’s long enough to cover my thighs.
My gaze snaps up and locks with Riven’s.
He’s watching me intently. He cocks his head and arches an eyebrow.
Vae stops, pointing between the two of us. “Uh… what’s going on here?”
The suspicious way he asks makes my mouth dry out. There’s no way I can answer him.
Fates, did he see? Did I hide the burns before Riven saw them?
“Oh, nothing,” Riven responds smoothly, unfolding from his crouch. “Just commenting on how your Omega’s really left quite the impression this morning.”
“Oh yeah?” Vae’s eyes narrow like we’re in on some private joke, and he dislikes being excluded. “How so?”
Riven gives a lazy shrug and picks up a leatherbound book that looks no less than a thousand years old.
“Oh, you know how Daxen is. Sometimes things around him just get a little…” His eyes flick to me, then drop—right to my thighs. “…explosive.”
He flashes Vaelenor a genuine smile that reminds me of a smug cat, all feline grace and predatory movements. A shiver runs down my spine, and I scoot closer to the table, purposely keeping my eyes on the wood in front of me.
At that moment, I’m sure of one truth.
Whoever Riven is, he’s very, very dangerous.