Page 38 of Rest In Knotty Pieces

“Vale sent me a few choice messages, and I think we’ve managed to not just piss off the whole pack but the Sanderson family, which means they might all be gunning for us. Not that I’m worried. I just think it might make things easier to get along with them rather than wage war with his family.”

Blaze doesn’t even glance up.

“You disagree,” I nod my head, listening to his silent argument. “But we never discussed keeping him prisoner. I’m not sure it’s the right path.”

“Stockholm syndrome.” Blaze smirks at his sword.

“You want him to fall in love with his captors? Baby, I think we’d have a better chance of getting pigs to fly.”

Blaze flicks the sword out, it gleams.

“How are your fingers?” I ask.

“They’re fine. I’ve set them, I barely notice the pain.”

There’s something edgy in his voice, so I don’t dare go to him, I just sit there and wait him out.

“Merle knows Aaron. She went to his room, lifted his top, and touched a scar. He told her it wasn’t her fault, but I saw her expression, it looked like she thought it was. Why is your stepbrother lying to me?” Blaze turns that sword on me, pressing the tip to my throat.

The deadly ice in his voice sets me on edge. “I’m not sure, Blaze, but if he is, he’s probably got a reason that’s protecting someone he thinks can’t protect themselves.” And that is the most honest thing I’ve ever said about Aaron. He might be a lot of things: ornery, a pain in my ass, grumpy, but he is and always will be a protector of those weaker.

Blaze considers me for a long moment, weighing my words and what he knows.

“Okay,” Blaze says, and the tension in my shoulders eases.

She screams. It’s one piercing note. It happens every time she sleeps. I rush out of the room and slip into hers. I pull her up into my arms, tuck her hands so she can’t hurt herself or me, and put her ear to my chest.

Her back bows tight, and she strains, fighting against me.

The sound of her shriek is so full of fear that I don’t wonder what happened to her. It no longer matters, I will find the person who did this and kill them. I don’t need the specifics.

King slinks into the room and presses against her from the other side.

He strokes her hair.

We discovered quickly that our voices make it all worse. So, now we just come in and silently hold her. The episodes aren’t lasting as long as they were, so maybe our scents are having an impact and making her feel safe.

I don’t know.

What I do know is that in a world where an omega in distress signals to alphas that they are prey, I won’t ever be able to let this little one out of my sight. She’s dripping with vulnerability, her brokenness is a sour note that stretches out around her.

The world would take this little bird and break her wings.

Not me, though. I want to see her fly.

She shudders in our arms, the shrieking dying away.

This is the part I hate, the part where she starts to cry. These whole body sobs where she stops fighting and just collapses in on us.

The blessing is that she doesn’t remember. It’s the only one. I lay down, and King follows, his lips pressing to her temple.

In the shadow of the doorway, I see Daega, and behind him, Aaron. I want to tell them to come in, to help, but we were all made for shadows and fighting, and none of us know how to fight this silent battle this omega is having with her mind.

Her sobs quieten and then stop as she settles back into a deep sleep.

King pulls away first, but I follow after him, catching his arm as he goes for the front door.

“I need air,” he growls.