Chapter 10 #2
She wipes her tears away. “I hate this place,” she whispers. “It’s been hard being back. It’s not the house’s fault that it holds all my bad memories, but it does. I wanted to be on your side of the house because my room was in this hall.”
“What did she do to you?” I’m not sure I actually want to know, but I need to know.
Morgan presses her lips together. She tucks a couple strands of blue hair behind her ear, her earrings gleaming like stars. I like the way her nose curves. It’s cute, and for a second, I want to kiss it.
Such a bad idea. Being around her is a bad idea.
“You don’t need to hear about it,” she sighs.
“I do need to know.” I need to know everything. I’m trying to understand her, and knowing her history will help me, even if it’s dark.
She sucks in a sharp breath. “She was mean and she hated me for being an omega, but I didn’t choose that.
I didn’t choose any of this. I am who I am.
I’m the worst Foxglove to ever exist, and she reminded me of that every single morning.
Blamed me for my parents’ death. Blamed me if things went missing, even though we both know Tabby is a thief. ”
The house shudders in response.
“She used to lock me in closets and cast spells to keep me from talking and everyone acts like she was a saint. She wasn’t a saint.
Far from it. But then I had to be perfect at her funeral and now everyone hates me and blames me.
Werewolves and daimons aren’t like this.
They don’t hate omegas or treat anyone differently.
Why did she care so much? I still don’t know. ”
Lock her in closets. Cast spells so she couldn’t speak.
Rage turns the edge of my vision dichromatic. The very thought of this happening to Morgan pulls the wolfish part of me to the surface. “Your bedroom will be next to mine now.”
“Sylvan, we don’t need to do that. It’s fine.” She shakes her head and surprises me by reaching up. Her hand slides against my face. “I’m fine. I know you would never hurt me, aside from the occasional claw in the ass. Which frankly, I deserved. I shouldn’t have thrown an orange at Cassandra.”
“You’re right. You should have thrown one at her father too.”
Now, she laughs. “Why? So you could punish me twice as much?”
“You have another ass cheek.”
Her laughter makes me smile. “You know, I’m not actually scared of you. I just feel like a failure. Everyone hates me. But it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.” Nothing about this is fine.
She keeps saying that it is, but I know it’s not.
How could it possibly be? I don’t know everything that happened to her here, but even knowing what she’s shared, she has to be away from it.
I’ll move every piece of furniture tonight if that’s what needs to happen.
“It’s not fine. You will be next to me. Better to keep you safe. ”
“We can’t do that with your rut and my heat.”
“Then we’ll trade spots. I’ll come to this side of the house. You can be far away from this.”
The corner of her mouth tugs. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No. Now, let me check you for blisters.”
“There’s no way I got blisters, we weren’t out for that long.”
“Let me check.”
For the first time since knowing Morgan, she doesn’t argue with me. Instead, she sweeps her hair up into a messy bun. It’s one of my favorite things she does. I just want to loop a claw in the shiny blue strands and give it a gentle tug.
It’s a primal thought. A dangerous one that threatens to take me down a path of thoughts I shouldn’t follow.
“I don’t hate you when you’re like this,” she mumbles.
“Like what?”
“Caring.”
“I’m not caring. I just don’t want to hear you talk about your burn.”
She smiles as she turns, allowing me to look at her shoulders. There are no blisters, thank the goddess.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I say. “Ask away.”
“Why did Cassandra’s father call you an heir? What was he talking about?”
The lie isn’t as easy as it usually is. “I have no idea. Maybe he mistook me for someone else.”
“But . . . the way you commanded the room.”
I hide my wince. That was, unfortunately, a very out of the ordinary response. “I think I just commanded you and everyone was watching.”
She snorts, but doesn’t press any further. But I know Morgan. I know she’s not letting this go, and eventually she’ll ask more. But at least that will give me time to figure out my next excuse.
This is why I don’t let people in.
“Drink your water,” I say softly.
She drinks it while I slather aloe vera over any red spot I see. Her skin is soft, but I can’t focus on that. I’m too worried. The more I apply, I can see it’s not as bad as I feared, and she’s tough. Her period cramps prove that much. She is a warrior. A survivor.
I draw in a deep inhale, her raspberry scent just as soothing as the aloe vera.
“We’ll make sure you always have sunscreen,” I say.
“Okay.”
“And you won’t argue with me about it next time.”
She chuckles. “Okay, Alpha.”
She’s teasing me this time.
Maybe I am okay with her calling me Alpha.
At least, when it’s like this.