Chapter 29
twenty-nine
Out.
Air hisses from my aching lungs. Even after twenty seconds trapped behind my ribs, each particle is a burning spark. They singe my throat, my tongue, my lips. Leaving a ragged throb over every single nerve.
And that’s the least traumatic part of the pain.
The rest… I can’t even address.
Pick the pain point that feels the most manageable, and focus on moving through that one hurt.
This is a tactic I learned when I trained in clinical psychology for victims of horrific violence. Hell, I used to teach this strategy.
It’s all well and good, in theory. But now?
In.
The inhales are the worst. Every cell vibrating inside me braces against a fresh maelstrom of Violet’s scent. Honeyed sweetness and delicate floral warmth rip at the tether anchored to my Alpha.
Ironically, I’d almost gotten used to the unpleasant pounding of the half-bond, pulling at me every second. Then Violet went into this spike.
According to Finn, she had a much milder one last night. The sleeping pills they gave me must have worked—but nothing has helped, this time. I’ve already tried every medication the doctors provided, along with emergency rut-blockers.
It doesn’t seem to matter. The tearing now feels visceral, like sinew and bone are slowly being peeled from my spine and pulled through my diaphragm.
The physical pain is maddening—and it’s put me on my back, lying on Gideon’s side of our bed, with only his lingering perfection for comfort.
The emotional anguish might be worse, though.
There were moments when I didn’t know if I would make it. How could I stay away while she was hurting? Does Finn know how to properly ease an omega in a spike? Is she having another one because he needs guidance? What if this is a symptom of my rejection? Will it permanently harm her?
I would give anything for these questions to be practical. If I could honestly say I only cared because her pain was pouring into me, amplifying my own… I might be able to sleep tonight.
But no.
Damn it.
I care.
My mate is not my omega, but she’s enduring a terrible spike…
And I care.
Would I be a monster if I didn’t? Or is it unforgivable that I do? I can’t think past forcing myself to keep breathing.
Out.
In.
The next gulp of air doesn’t just contain Violet’s sugared need; it’s also full of Gideon. Relief and panic collide at my center.
He’s home.
My little prince is overwrought, of course. Burnt pecans, bubbling syrup. Fucking hell. The stress threaded into his essence nearly pushes my Alpha over the edge.
I’ve spent the last ten years doing everything possible to avoid this exact scent. The one I sensed the day he appeared in my office a decade ago, the pain he used to keep buried beneath neutralizers. Lost, scared. Angry, exhausted, and ashamed of his own identity.
I swore I would never make him feel this way.
I lived to undo it.
But as the door to our bedroom swings open, I can’t even move.
“Atlas.”
His gasp is a knife to the chest. I don’t dare speak, gnashing my teeth to keep from barking demands or roaring in agony. Panting through my teeth, I actively press my hips into the mattress. Remembering that I’m not wearing any clothes.
They hurt. At the time, removing them seemed prudent—one less ache to contend with, more capacity for self-control. Now, I wonder what Gideon must think of this scene.
Particularly the dark purple erection straining toward the ceiling… and the full knot at its base.
The searing throb there is the ache I haven’t let myself consider. The very worst one of all. Burning, ticking, weeping.
Fuck. I can’t think about it. Not when he’s so close.
My fingers shriek as I clutch the comforter tighter, fisting my hands at my sides. My Alpha thrashes in my center, fighting the emergency meds I injected.
The bastard is strong. Normally, I’m grateful. His potency helps satisfy Gideon and keeps my unruly pack running. In this case, though…
I nearly lose my grip, barely grasping the reins in time to stop him from taking over. My cock jerks, releasing more pre-cum.
And Gideon perfumes.
Goddamn it.
The edges of my vision go from blurry to black. Everything narrows to a dark tunnel, until all I see is the cracked ceiling plaster… and then, him.
My omega.
“Atlas,” he breathes, frantic as he leans over, snapping wild eyes down my bare body. “Babe, what did you do?”
It’s what I didn’t do that’s killing me, but I know what he means. I breathe harder, each exhale rumbling with an unbroken growl. “Nothing,” I grit, because he needs to hear it. “I promised you.”
Spots fill my field of sight, but I hear his sob. “I know,” he mumbles, finally crying where he knows I can see him. Ironic, given my eyes aren’t working and I don’t know which direction to reach toward.
A frustrated snarl slips up my throat. His voice softens as he repeats, “I know you did.”
At first, I think I’m imagining the shift of his perfume, deepening into the sweetest maple and brown sugar. His smooth, strong hands land on my shoulders. Banishing a bit of the pain tweaking those muscles.
“I’m here, now,” he whispers. “We’re going to take care of this.”
There’s an odd beat of hesitation, but I hear his clothes rustling, landing on the floor.
Strong fingers skim down, gliding over the veins pounding along my forearms and gently prying at my closed fist. “The nest isn’t ready,” he admits, chagrin and hope twining into his scent. “But let me take you in there, alpha.”
FUCK.
Fury and longing burst inside me. I’ve waited years for my omega to make us a proper nest—having him invite me into it for the first time because someone else has me on the edge of a rut is the cruelest sort of irony.
Unacceptable.
Not good enough for my prince.
I don’t even think. Can’t pause long enough to fight through another inhale. The next thing I know, I’ve flipped us, yanking his smaller frame beneath mine. Covering him completely.
My fingers close around his neck. Any other omega might whine or squirm in fear—but not my perfect boy. His gaze takes on the defiant glint that drives me wild. My tunneled vision focuses on it with fanatical fervor.
A memory floats to the top of my bleary brain. One of the best moments of my life—the first time in my entire existence when I let myself lose control.
Gideon was the only patient I ever set my Alpha loose for. He denied being an omega for weeks; after listening to him lie to himself repeatedly, something in me snapped.
Which is how I wound up backing him into a wall. Snarling. Fisting the front of his pressed, collared shirt and pressing my burgeoning knot into his hip. Grinding in slow thrusts until his life-changing perfume emerged.
Proving I saw him, underneath all his armor.
And I wanted him.
Nothing has changed. He still sparks every rabid impulse I have, burning off the last of my control as he tilts his chin to a haughty angle. Daring me.
My omega loves to play the brat and make me earn his submission. It’s automatic—even now, with a rut lurking just below my skin.
I grip him tighter, huffing down the drugging scent of his arousal when he perfumes again. Instead of razing me to ash, it tempers the need blazing in my body to a pleasurable hum, relieving all the pain except my throbbing knot and cock.
They kick against his thigh as my eyes find his clean-shaven throat. The unbitten skin sends a new wash of pain over my battered soul. It sinks into the cracks that have formed there over the last two days, shoving my Alpha closer to the surface.
His rage is gone, though. As I balance on my hands, staring down at the only omega I’ve ever truly wanted to claim, all my Alpha feels is failure.
He failed Gideon. We both did.
My omega’s eyes shine. I stare into them, repeating his name to myself. Refusing to lose sight of it with so many confusing scents swirling around us.
Gideon, Gideon, Gideon.
My prince lifts his head and scent-marks my face, smearing his tears over my cheeks.
“Hey,” he soothes, gliding warm caresses down my spine, erasing more of the ripping pain that tugs at the nerves.
“I know it hurts, babe. Just knot me, okay? Let me hold you.” He flashes a version of my favorite smirk.
“You can chase me down and collar me later if you still want to. I promise to misbehave.”
There’s a reason for the sadness creasing his handsome features, but I can’t remember it anymore. The rest of reality has faded into murky shadows, leaving only his storm-cloud irises and the heat rising from his core.
I snarl as he bends his legs around my ribs, tucking his hips toward his torso and offering the quivering entrance to his body. Thick streams of arousal pool on the bed beneath us as he rubs his slick hole along my balls. Hot sweetness coats the underside of my knot.
Before either of us can draw another breath, I snap back and forward, barreling into his clenching heat. I growl, and he whines, biting out a curse as his eyes roll.
“Rut me harder,” he begs, digging his fingers into my shoulders. Holding me, like he vowed he would. “Please, alpha. I need you.”
Something about his whimper slices me to the bone, even as I pop my knot where he wants it. Beyond all semblance of control, I tumble directly into my first climax. The thick swell stretching his ass flares wider, sealing us together.
Gideon gasps the words again, spilling them against my shoulder as his body flutters around me and his cock sprays out between our torsos. “I need you.”