27. Blaze
Blaze
Merle has shut down. She is just staring at us with enormous eyes that have washed out all the amber.
Her hair is tangled from her constantly running her fingers through it, and the skin around her fingernails is bleeding from where she’s picking.
Worse is the flinching. I want to scream every time she flinches away from one of us.
Like we’d hurt her, as if we even could.
Her body is reacting before her mind recognises us.
Her fear identifies a threat, and her body reacts in the only way that she thinks she can survive; by trying to get away.
I hate it. I see the logic in it. My heart doesn’t care about logic. My heart sees my omega hurting and wants to do damage control, and if that means taking out the population from here until the nearest ocean, so be it.
Our return has stopped the bond sickness. She lay in arms, was passed around. We touched her, purred for her. Nothing sexual, just all comfort, and gradually, she relaxed enough to sleep.
The bond sickness did ease.
But it’s like her mind decided the trauma triggered something else, and Merle is reacting to a past event that we can’t see. I can’t kill what I don’t know about.
I stomp my feet louder so she hears me approach and then start speaking, low and soft.
“I’ve brought your eggs.” Pause. I don’t like that pause. “Do you like eggs?”
She hesitates.
I frown, and the alarm in her eyes hurts. She reaches for the plate, but I swing it out of the way.
“Merle, you don’t like eggs, do you?”
She nods her head, but it’s too frantic, her smile too wide. I scowl and shove the plate at King.
“Eat that.”
I go back to the kitchen, but she chases me, grabbing at my arm, miming that she will eat. God, there are tears in her eyes, and she’s shaking. I wrap my fingers really carefully around her hands and pull them off my arm.
“I hate eggs,” I whisper. “Now, we’ve got a great excuse to make muffins.”
She searches my eyes, her body tight as a bow.
“I prefer apple and walnut muffins. Sage likes banana and blueberries.” I watch her face. “Roseland likes orange and poppy seed.”
Her eyes flicker.
Gotcha.
“How about you make a batch of each? And chocolate!” Rolly shouts from the bathroom.
“Hmm, I could do that. I enjoy cooking. It’s very peaceful. Would you like to help me?”
She’s tempted, but then she withdraws into herself again and backs away. Merle looks at King and back at me, gnawing on her bottom lip.
“Stop biting that. If you want to hurt someone or bite someone, I can give you an alpha who will happily lay down and let you nibble your way up and down his body all day long, but I don’t want to see a single drop of blood on this lip.
There will be punishments if I do. I’ll make you babysit Rolly during a musical marathon.
That is enough to make anyone behave,” I mutter.
Rolly shoots me a grin that is utterly unrepentant.
I walk away from her but watch as she blinks several times. She sways on the spot, looking confused and lost in her head. After another glance at me, then King, she creeps back to the couch and sits there with a ramrod-stiff spine.
I make a circular gesture in the air, and Pix responds at once, walking over and dropping almost on top of her.
“Do you like dogs, Merle?”
Her eyes get wider still. She shakes her head no.
“Oh, thank fuck for that. I am not a dog person, but my best friend Mark loves dogs. The family officially have five, but they are more Mark’s dogs. He treats them like babies, and they always have to lick my face. I hate it.”
“The licking?” Sage asks suggestively.
“From the dog, yes,” Pix growls. “Okay, I have an even better question. Are you a cat person? If you are a cat person, we might have to break up.”
Merle again hesitantly shakes her head. She looks so lost and confused. Then her eyes widen, and she’s at Rolly with pure guilt on her face.
“Don’t worry about him. He has never owned a cat, and any animal with that much attitude would just end up fighting with him all day long,” King says.
“You are a keeper. I bet you are a bird person, aren’t you, Merle? Do you like little songbirds? Parrots? Big cockatoos?”
She stares at him like she has no idea where he came from, but he’s somehow maneuvered her into his lap. She’s straddling him, her hands on his shoulders, and he is stroking her hips. I don’t think she even knows where she is.
“When this is all over, I’m going to get you a bird.
We’ll go shopping, find a rescue that has one that speaks to your soul, and we will give it a home.
I want a big home. One that I stay at and don’t leave.
I’ve never admitted that to anyone before,” Pix says softly.
“But with you and these alphas, I can see us living happily in a big house with an African Grey cockatoo that swears at us and sings to some horrible little tune Rolly taught it. We’ll have a bed big enough to fit us all in because nobody likes to sleep alone. ”
She’s leaning closer, her cheek pressed to his. I put a tray of muffins in the oven and start on the next batch.
“Blaze will have his ridiculous dojo where he can swing his sword around-”
“Dao.”
“What?”
“It’s called a dao,” I say and start mixing the next batch.
Pix rolls his eyes. “Fine. He has a dojo to swing his dao around. King will have his gym. Rolly will have…”
“Gaming system!” Rolly shouts.
Pix laughs. “Sure, a gaming system. Surround sound, perfect for movie nights. With big couches we can all sink into and sleep in, if we don’t end up in the bedroom.
Sage will have his training room to keep in shape because we all like all his sexy muscles.
Roseland will have his weapon room so he can protect us.
You and all the alters will all have space for what you want and need.
Nests filled with rainbow threads that glitter with silver, shiny, sparkle pretties.
And I will have a big backyard with a tree I can climb.
I’ll teach you as well, and we can sit up there and talk and think and just be. ”
I set the spoon in the bowl. I’ve been holding it in the air, listening to Pix paint this fantasy. King looks at me. We make a silent promise to make sure that this home Pix dreams of comes true. One day, every single item on that list will exist, and it will be laid at the feet of these omegas.
Rolly walks out of the hallway, returning from the bedroom, funny, I didn’t even see him leave. He brings a trail of soft and sweet incense following him. It’s vanilla and incredibly soothing. Merle inhales and sighs heavily, relaxing into Pix’s arms.
Scent. Touch. The sound of us speaking. All things that soothe our traumatised omega.
Twenty-five minutes later, I bring a steaming hot plate of muffins to the coffee table and watch her eyes zero in on the orange and poppyseed.
She lets out a tiny sound, which is more than she’s made in hours, and reaches for one.
I refuse to risk it and walk away, looking back only when I’m in the kitchen out of her line of sight.
She breaks off a bit and eats it, her eyes closing. Sage gives me a thumbs-up from where he is hiding in the dark of the hallway.
She eats and then, in the shelter of Pix’s arms, she collapses into a nightmare-filled sleep that only the purrs of the savage omega can keep at bay.
“We should leave,” Rolly says. “She’ll get calmer the further away we get from him.”
“If we leave, we lose the chance to find any clues about how he’s doing all this,” Roseland hisses, and I jump, startled that he managed to sneak up on me.
I study them both carefully.
“There’s also the danger inherent in moving her while she is this panicked. She is a trained killer. If she wants to leave us, there is nothing we can do to stop her. Keeping her calm and safe is our best option,” King murmurs.
Rolly opens his mouth to protest, then stops. “What if he’s here? What if we’re missing something vital? This is the most dangerous place to keep her because he knows. We need to be unpredictable.”
“Her safety comes first,” Roseland murmurs.
“Which part, her mental health or her physical health?” Rolly hisses in frustration. “We’re sitting ducks. We need to leave.”
There is merit in both arguments. When I look at the alphas, I can see fear in their eyes, perhaps for the first time. Have they ever cared before? Have I?
“We’ll leave at dusk. Slip out during the night. It will give us a better chance of getting away,” I say with finality.
They settle, each appeased. Roseland and Pix set about making sure everything is packed, while Rolly goes out with King, searching the neighbourhood and checking to see if they can find any signs of our shadow.
I open the fridge and see a box of chocolates that I don’t remember anyone buying. It’s at the back, behind half a carton of milk. It’s a common brand, and it’s open like someone has eaten one or two of them.
There’s something off about it.
No one would have bought these chocolates. I reach for the box, pulling it out and studying it carefully. I wander outside and stand in the garden.
“Afternoon!”
“Hi!” I say with my most winsome smile. I shuffle closer and heave a sigh. “This really is the most beautiful place, you are so lucky to live here. We’ll be sad to go when my holidays are up in three weeks.”
The man in his forties who was suspiciously watching me relaxes. “Just here visiting?”
“We hired the house. Just needed to escape the city. I mean, you get this job, and then the next thing, you’re working from dark until dark, and you are barely spending any time at home with the pack. We just needed to reset.”
“Well, there is no better place to do it than Marion Hollow.”
“It truly is a pristine piece of the world.”
“Exactly, so don’t go telling all your corporate friends.”
I laugh. “Cross my heart. I’ll be keeping this place a secret, and hopefully, we can come back. And if the omegas enjoy it so much, maybe come back for good.”
His eyes widen. “Have we made that much of an impact?”
“Honestly, I haven’t felt this much like myself in years. Here, do you want a chocolate? My omega bought them for me yesterday, said I needed some sweetness.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
He reaches out and takes one. I pull one out myself and open it, and pretend to eat it. He chomps away, and we talk for another ten minutes before he gets white and starts to sway. I put the chocolates down and catch him when he collapses, dragging him into his house and putting him to bed.
For thirty minutes, I watch until I’m sure it’s just a sedative. Then I walk home and go straight into the kitchen. I sweep all the food into the bin, except the muffins I made and the drinks that they brought home with them.
There are seven more suspect containers, including a toothpaste brand we don’t buy. I collect all the items and set them on the bench.
I am meticulous and thorough and furious.
“Get everything packed and find us a new car,” I say with clipped words. “We’re leaving.”
Sage studies the food and gathers Merle up. He takes her to the bathroom, and when they emerge, she’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a thick jacket and a hood.
She doesn’t look like herself; she looks dangerous.
But it’s still Merle, and her fear-filled gaze screams at me to protect her. I’m going to do exactly that. One way or another. I hand her a muffin and gently take her chin in my fingers, staring into her eyes.
“We’re going to keep you safe.”
She shakes her head, looking away, but I grip her chin hard and growl. Her eyes land back on me, startled.
“I promise. We’re going to keep you safe.”
“We’re ready,” Rolly says.
Roseland, Pix, King, and Rolly stand there waiting near the front door.
It’s time to leave this paradise.