28. Siren
Chapter twenty-eight
My heart still hammers even after that little scrap of an omega leaves my line of sight.
My instincts are a jumble of confusing inputs.
Protective and territorial. Anger and regret.
Grief and something I don’t dare name. Seeing Delilah scared of me satisfied me too much, probably.
But maybe she needed a healthy dose of fear. Don’t want her to get too comfortable.
“You are way the fuck out of line, Rin,” Phantom growls at me the moment Delilah tucks herself away in the storage room.
“Bullshit. We told her not to go in our rooms, and she walked right the fuck into mine without even knocking,” I fire back defensively.
“To do her chores, you fucking cunt,” Joker snarls. “How the fuck is she supposed to do your laundry if she can’t get your clothes?”
I growl low in my chest at his retort, not that I try to contradict him. It’s easier to let my anger forward when they’re attacking me like this. My fists clench at my sides, and I fight the urge to swing as Joker takes a half step toward me.
“Rin, Jokes, stand down,” Bones says coldly.
Neither Joker nor I relax but I lower my hands slightly, forcing my fists to relax. He’s still glaring daggers at me, but whatever.
“I’m going to check on her,” Cross mutters before walking off.
Bones pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “Joker, we gave her rules for a reason. Our spaces are our own, and she can’t just go wherever she pleases.”
“She’s lucky we are letting her in the house at all,” I mutter.
“She’s not a fucking animal!” Joker yells, advancing again.
I roll my eyes as Phantom shoves Joker back, stepping between us.
“I don’t know what crawled up your ass and died, but you better dig it the fuck out,” Phantom snaps.
Grief pangs in my chest like a gunshot wound, but it only makes me want to dig my heels in more.
“I’m not acting any different,” I say flippantly.
Phantom levels a flat look at me, but I stand my ground. I’m not acting any differently than she deserves to be treated, especially after what she’s done. I’d treat anyone the same way who’d done the same.
“You’re being cruel on purpose, and that’s not fair. She didn’t ask to be here,” Joker says.
“Life isn’t fair. And Bones said it himself. It’s not our job to make her feel like she belongs here. Because she doesn’t,” I say, gesturing to Bones.
Our prime alpha looks at his omega sternly and goes to say something. But Cross returns from coddling our unwelcome guest, looking furious.
“I hope you’re proud of yourself, Rin,” he says, voice colder than I’ve ever heard from the even-keeled beta.
“Why shouldn’t I? She broke a rule, so I put her in her place,” I say with a snort.
“Because, if you’d actually read the fucking file you put together, you would have seen how that sort of behavior only served to traumatize her further,” Cross fires back, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I read enough,” I say, low and dangerous.
“Clearly not. She’s in there right now, petrified that we’re going to punish her for simply trying her best to follow the orders she was given.” The beta’s voice rises as he straightens his spine, and his normally soft cherrywood scent turns smokey, like someone set an antique desk on fire.
“She needs to learn there are consequences to breaking rules, Silas,” Bones interjects.
Cross turns his furious gaze onto his bonded mate, some sort of silent conversation flowing between them for a moment before Bones sighs again, shaking his head.
“She’s punishing herself more than we ever could. Don’t be surprised when she regresses,” Cross says with that cold detachment that comes when he’s speaking about medical subjects.
“Good. Maybe she’ll learn—”
“Rin, enough. I don’t know what she’s done to you, but you need to get the fuck over yourself.
She’s traumatized more than any of us could ever imagine, and yelling at her, belittling her, treating her like a slave is only going to make her go back on whatever minimal progress she made before we came along.
Grow the fuck up and act like a fucking human for once. ”
Cross’s words crack through the hallway like a whip, silencing everyone. I’m stunned for a moment, taken aback by his sudden defense of this omega we barely know. But I recover quickly, glaring at him.
“She’s not an innocent, little baby lamb, Silas. I’m not going to sit here and—”
“Rin, enough.”
Bones’s deep voice cuts through my words, and I turn my furious gaze onto him. I thought he was on my side with this, but it seems like he’s caught up in whatever bullshit sob story Delilah has been spinning, too.
“I’ll be speaking with Delilah in the morning and reminding her of our agreement. I suggest that, in the future, if you don’t want her in your room, lock your door and leave your laundry where she can get to it like the rest of us.”
I shiver as I feel the chill of his alpha bark behind his words. The compulsion element of it doesn’t affect me, but I grit my teeth with barely contained fury over him even trying.
“Is that an order, sir?” I spit, each word laced with as much venom as I can muster.
“It is. Now everyone, back to sleep. No one say anything to Delilah until after I’ve spoken with her.”
There’s a general grumbling, but I simply turn on my heel and slam my door in their faces, turning the lock firmly.
I pace the room for a while, trying to purge the anger from my system.
Normally, I’d get this out in our little gym, but someone decided to turn it into the omega’s bedroom.
And even with Bones’s order, I don’t think I could be around her without wanting to wring her scrawny little neck.
I keep replaying the argument over and over, and something Cross said sticks with me.
Yeah, I compiled Delilah’s medical records and anything I could find about her on the web, but I didn’t really do anything more than skim it.
Especially after what I saw front and center.
I want to brush off our medic’s comments, but damn it if I’m not curious now.
I throw myself down at my computer set up, gritting my teeth as I pull up the file, skipping past the first few attachments until I find the notes her therapists made about her treatments.
My face falls as I read report after report of all the different things they tried to get her memories back.
Electroshock, hypnosis, multiple drug cocktails, exposure therapy.
The list goes on and on, each with a transcript of the doctor’s notes and Delilah’s responses.
All the while, constantly referring to her as simply “subject” or “omega.” What I had to pull Joker away from stopping pales in comparison to the shit they did to the trainwreck currently living in my pack’s house.
I close the file halfway through the transcripts, physically sick. I put my system to sleep before going to the bathroom, splashing water from the sink onto my face. I don’t know why I didn’t put the pieces together before, but seeing it laid out like that…
My instincts are at war again, this time wrestling with my stubborn pride and regret.
I refuse to admit weakness in front of her, but I think I may have overreacted.
No. I said what I said, and I’m not going to undermine myself by apologizing.
She needed to learn the lesson, and everyone else was just too soft to teach it.
When I finally crawl into bed, not even my noise machine can push out the images that follow me into sleep, my dreams full of screams and faceless men in white coats.