Chapter 5
Andromeda
I’m surprised Gina is actually leaving us alone. She must seriously want this to happen.
Normally, she’s far more charming to people she hasn’t met before. I guess today’s an off day for her. I’m sure that’s more because of her disrupted plans than the fact I’m in a hospital bed right now.
Damn. That’s a little sad.
Before I have a chance to wallow in my sadness any longer, Elijah stalks towards my bedside, his expression dark. I didn’t have a chance to really get a good look at him last night because of the blood dripping into my eyes and the head injury.
But now? Oh boy, can I see him.
His jawline is wide and sharp enough to cut through diamond. Almost like he clenches it often. His dark hair is cropped short to his scalp, connecting to a short beard. He’s undeniably handsome. I’m surprised he doesn’t have some sort of job on the other end of the camera.
If only he weren’t an asshole.
“What the fuck is this bullshit?” He snarls, his blood orange scent practically exploding out from him.
I can’t help it. I cower.
Like a pussy.
My knuckles are white against the thin hospital blanket as my gaze bounces wildly around the room, looking for an out. Looking for rescue from the danger this alpha represents.
My own chamomile scent, bitter with my terror, leaks from me despite my best attempt not to show weakness.
“What the hell’re you doing, man?” The beta—Leo—sighs, hauling Elijah back by his shoulder.
I flash Leo a quick, relieved smile.
He’s surprisingly fit. Like a swimmer or something. His jet-black hair is shaggy over his forehead, and the easy smile he flashes me in return has my pulse picking up. It’s the kind of smile that completely transforms his face, his eyes shifting into sparkling crescents.
Elijah is big enough that he has to be letting Leo haul him backwards. Regardless of how well-built the beta may be, if Elijah really wanted to attack me, there’s nothing any of us in here could do.
Just like there wasn’t anything I could do other than run from Ezra.
Elijah’s expression shifts, his gaze sharpening on my reaction. His eyes narrow on me like he’s finding me lacking.
“Sorry,” he grunts.
“It’s fine...” I say, struggling to swallow past the lump in my throat. “You just want to protect your... client.”
His jaw ticks at my use of the word client.
Man, is this guy hard to please.
Does he want me to call out what I walked in on last night or not?
“No, it’s not,” Beck says, drawing my attention to him. “Eli would never hurt you, but no one should talk to you like that.”
“I’m used to it,” I shrug.
I’m sure they think whoever slammed my head into the counter is the one I’m referencing. I don’t think anyone expects Gina to be as... harsh as she is with me.
Or if they have, they certainly haven’t said anything to me.
For all intents and purposes, she presents herself as the perfect mother to the world. Today was just an off day for her. I think her being threatened by Beck’s designation had something to do with it.
The tension in the room grows so thick that if I thought I could leave this bed without collapsing to the floor from dizziness, I’d run straight into it like a wall. All of them look to the side of my head where stitches are peeking out from my hair.
I reach up to the side of my head, a wave of self-consciousness washing over me. I look like shit. In front of three of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen.
I learned very early on that my appearance was the thing that would get me places. It would get me the things that would force my mom to pay attention to me instead of her work.
Without it? I have nothing. I am nothing.
I’m completely defenseless.
“Who did this to you?” Beck growls. I don’t mean to stereotype, but his growl is impressive, considering his designation.
“It doesn’t matter.” I lean my chin against my knee, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. So much has happened since I woke up.
“The media are hypothesizing it’s your boyfriend,” Leo murmurs, pursing his lips.
“Ex-boyfriend,” I interrupt.
Elijah snorts, crossing his arms over his chest, the seams of his black button-up looking like they’re going to explode. “We have our answer.”
Beck lets out a soft noise at the back of his throat that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper.
Everything about him is screaming a sort of heartbreak that makes me a little uncomfortable.
His normally bright, sparkling eyes, dull with a deep sadness.
His burnt caramel perfume takes on bitter notes that I can taste at the back of my throat.
I don’t know how to handle it. No one has ever cared about me like this. Especially not a person I’ve known for less than twenty-four hours.
Ezra and I dated for years, and he’s never looked at me like Beck is right now. Is it an omega thing? Or is it a him thing?
“It was the first time,” I mumble, feeling the pressure to say something to reassure him.
I don’t think it was very successful.
“What’re you gonna do about it?” Elijah asks, glaring at me with those dark eyes I’m starting to feel progressively more and more annoyed by.
I like oranges, but maybe I’ll have to reconsider that. I’ll never be able to get rid of the association between that blood orange scent of his and the actual real deal.
“Why the hell is it any of your business?”
“It became my business when you bled all over Beck, because he is my business,” he snaps.
“Why do you care? All you seem to do is be at my throat because you’re worried about me keeping a secret I’ve already promised to keep.”
The bastard just shrugs.
“I hate alphas who beat down on those weaker than them, even more than I hate prissy little, fame-hungry influencers.”
Beck lets out a huff, shooting a glare at Eli.
It doesn’t lessen the impact of his words. They’re like lashes, cutting through my skin like paper. That’s the image I show the world. I know it. But having it shoved down my throat, said with such vitriol? It hurts.
That’s not all I am. Hell, I don’t think that’s even who I am in the first place.
But who even am I? What right do I have to say that the image I put out into the world isn’t who I am?
Crushed by the interaction, my shoulders curl in on themselves. I feel the little hold I have over myself—my true self—withdraw into the dark hole in my head I go to when I can’t handle life.
“I’m not going to do anything,” I mumble.
“Figures,” Elijah snorts. His gaze feels even heavier after I’ve been flayed open by his words.
“That’s enough, Eli, shut up,” Beck snaps.
He turns to me, reaching out a hesitant hand.
He rests it on my shoulder when I don’t protest. “Don’t listen to him.
He’s an ass. But why can’t you? I’m sure you could file a police report or something.
Maybe something with the Omega Center Network at the very least? ”
I shake my head, unable to meet his gaze. I know if I look into those expressive windows into his soul that I’ll crumble in the face of a kindness I’ve never had the privilege of experiencing.
“I can’t.”
The thought never even registered in my head. My mother’s parting words hang over my head. She’s still entertaining the idea of keeping Ezra as a backup option. If I went behind her back and tried to take some sort of legal action against him? She’d lose her shit. Even if it’s just with the OCN.
“Why not?” Beck pushes.
The muscles along the upper part of my cheek start twitching. It happens sometimes when I’m really stressed. I hate it. It’s like everything, including my own body, is out of my fucking control right now.
“Do you want me to be honest?” I ask, reaching up and covering the side of my face that’s out of my control before lifting my gaze to meet Beck’s.
I don’t know why I’m even asking. I’m never honest. Not really. There’s always a story to tell. A narrative that’s been set way before the season of life started filming.
But there’s something refreshing about Beck. Something that makes me want to tell him the truth. Like I’m reaching out desperately for connection, begging someone to see me.
“Of course,” he nods. “Always.”
“My mom wouldn’t let me.” Words suddenly feel so difficult. Not only am I in a position where I’m sharing things that reveal an ugly dynamic that never sees the light of day, but I’m also being forced into a position where I have to beg them for help.
“She—she won’t? That just doesn’t make sense,” Beck says, running a hand through his hair. “Why wouldn’t she?”
“Because if you don’t say yes to the whole fake relationship show she wants us to put on for the media, she wants me to go back to him.” The words feel like razor blades coming up my throat.
“You’re fucking joking,” Beck gasps. “She’d make you do that?”
“That’s not normal,” Leo adds, the area around his eyes tight with tension. “You know that’s not normal, right?”
There’s a vague understanding that Leo is right. That this isn’t normal. A mother shouldn’t do this to her child. Especially not one who’s been through similar trauma in her past.
“Well, it’s my reality. Does it matter that it’s not normal?” I mumble. “It’s not like I can really change the options here. So please, I know it’s a big ask—”
“Fuck no,” Eli’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “You’re not dragging Beck further into this shitshow.”
“Wait a second—”
Elijah grabs Beck’s arm, walking him to the door. Taking the one person that feels like the one chance I have at salvation away.
I should’ve expected this.
Headlines are always trying to tell a story.
Beckham Knight being my knight in shining armor is just another thing they’re selling to get clicks. It’s not a reflection of reality.
Reality is ugly. Even for someone like me. It’s not the glitz and glamor the media tries to portray.
“Are you—are you sure you want to disregard the offer?” I stutter, making Elijah freeze in his tracks.
His glare sucks me in and presses me down with the force of a black hole.
Desperation to make things work with Beck, desperation to make sure I don’t have to be forced to do the whole song and dance with Ezra after he assaulted me, desperation to please my mother, infuses itself into my very soul.
I’m prey again. Backed into a corner.
So I bite.
“I could tell the media about you two, you’d—”
The words are barely out of my mouth before Elijah is at my bedside, his lips curled into a snarl. He grips the railing of my hospital bed so hard the gurney groans.
“If you know what’s good for you,” Elijah growls, his voice menacing. “You will keep your mouth shut. Do you understand?”
Elijah carries the kind of anger in himself that’s seeped into his bones. I don’t know him. I won’t even pretend to. But I do know that I just struck a nerve so raw, he can barely see through the fury pulsing through his veins.
Just like with Ezra.
I scramble backwards and a fucking pathetic, terrified whimper leaves my throat.
I’m not me in that moment. Or maybe I am me—just the new me, born after I was attacked by someone who I had thought was safe. My mind is ruled by my base instincts—by the animalistic drive to keep myself safe.
Tangled in the hospital blankets and all the wires and IVs attached to me, I practically throw myself off the opposite end of the bed.
The world spins and I prepare myself to crack into the cold linoleum, but that doesn’t happen.
“Fuck,” Leo curses, letting out a soft grunt as his strong arms catch me before I can fall. “Are you okay?”
My pulse flutters at the base of my neck as I stare up into his dark eyes, so much warmer than Eli’s.
“S—sorry,” I stutter.
“I much prefer thanks to apologies,” Leo murmurs, helping me back into bed. He turns up and glares at Eli. “What the hell, man? You’re seriously making me say that a lot tonight.”
“Eli!” Beck yells, grabbing Eli’s arm and hauling him backward. “That’s enough—I can’t—I can’t believe—”
He shoots me one of those heartbroken looks I’m starting to hate. He shouldn’t look like that. It’s unnatural.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, blinking quickly. “So fucking sorry. We—we should go. I hope you feel better, Andi.”
I’m half expecting my mom to barrel inside the moment the door is open, but the silence in the hallway tells me she and her entourage must’ve been sent to a waiting room so they wouldn’t block the halls or something.
“You never answered my question,” Leo says, crouching down by my bedside. The move instantly soothes my terrified inner omega, putting him at a level lower than I am.
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
I stare down at my trembling hands.
The question is asked so earnestly. Like he actually cares about my answer.
I feel the burning of tears behind my eyes. No matter how hard I try, I can feel them cling to my lower lashes.
I hate crying. I hate anything that makes me feel out of control over my body, and these tears just won’t stop.
“I’m fine,” I whisper as the first one trails its way down my cheek, splashing down onto my hospital gown.
Just like my blood splashed across my gown last night after Ezra slammed my head into the counter.
Leo pauses, remaining in his low crouch. He knows I’m lying,but he doesn’t push.
“Okay. I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, Andi. I hope... I hope things get better for you,” he sighs, rising to his feet. “I should go after those two.”
“I—I won’t tell,” I say to his back. “I don’t even know why I threatened it.”
“I get it,” he says, his lips pressed into a tight smile as he glances at me over his shoulder. “You’re in a tough spot. Good luck, Andi.”
The door shuts behind him, leaving me blessedly alone.
I close my eyes, but a few more rebellious tears still manage to escape. My hands feel dry as I wipe away at my cheeks, getting rid of the evidence.
It’s stupid, but left alone with my thoughts, I can’t help but wish I had an Elijah to staunchly defend me.
Why do I always have to be the one people direct their anger at instead of the one being protected? When will I get to stop feeling so alone?