As much as I hate to believe Vivian is a stranger, it's the truth. I know nothing about her, and I'm pretty sure my impressions of her pack aren't true. It's almost a blessing that she doesn't talk. If she did, I bet I would be even more attached to her.
It's unhealthy, this trauma bond we're forming. More often than not I'm pissed it's even there. There's no ignoring it. I'm way too focused on Vivian and I've noticed that she pays too much attention to what I'm feeling.
I don't do connections or feelings. Yes, I'mthatguy and I fucking like it. I have a job to do, and the key factor that allows me to do it isnotbeing tied down.
Snarling into the silence of my cell, I grip the bars and shake the damn things in frustration. I'm thinking like this woman is going to tie me down, but that would never fucking happen. How do I scrub my brain of the firefly who means absolutely nothing to me?
She's coming back and I need to get myself under control. Vivian has a pack. I have plans that don't include little redheads who don't have any self-preservation. She wouldn't be good for my kick ass black hair. I can only imagine how many gray hairs she gives her alphas.
I've refused to entertain the thought that she was sold. No matter how many times that piece of shit guard comes around to taunt me that she's never coming back, I refuse to believe it.
Fucking hell, she didn't even do anything to provoke them. That was all me. A small toxic voice in the back of my mind says maybe if she had eaten the damn bread then she wouldn't have been taken. I still don't understand her issue with food, but she seems adamant that her pack isn't behind the fucked up lack of hunger cues.
Although there's a high probability that I'm reading her completely wrong. Without words, I'm forced to pay more attention to her body language and facial expressions. Maybe that's my problem—too much time focused on her so we can communicate.
Scoffing, I thump my head onto the cool metal locking me in this dump.Communicate. That omega has done jack shit to communicate with me. Except for her name and questionable decision-making skills, I know nothing.
Why am I so worked up about this? I'm like a record stuck on repeat.
"Walk, bitch!"
My spine snaps straight so fast I'm surprised I don't fucking break it. The sound of shuffling and stomping footsteps sendsmy anxiety skyrocketing. My legs tremble with a weakness that doesn't matter—Vivian is coming. She's not gone for good. She's alive if the guard is telling her to walk.
With my heart in my throat beating wildly and making me want to throw up, I steel myself for what I'm about to see. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Vivian being dragged between two large men.
Her pale skin is coated in dried mud, and the closer she gets, I notice the goosebumps pebbled over every millimeter of skin.
"Firefly?" I call out, sickened by the way her head hangs and her bare feet drag on the concrete. She doesn't respond, but I sure as shit am not done trying. "Omega, are you okay?" I murmur when she's dropped in front of me while one guard unlocks her cell.
No response.I'm getting really fucking tired of this. I need her to tell me what hurts.
"Shut up," one of the random guards grunts as he yanks her around like she's nothing but a nuisance. "I can't believe even after being locked in the hole all day, she still smells nice. Like fresh rain or something," the guy mumbles to his friend.
While they drop her to the ground, leaving her in a heap five feet away from me, I'm reeling at their words.Locked in the hole...What the hell does that mean?
They're gone, muttering about omega scents before I can demand answers and tell them to get hers the fuck out of their noses. Honestly, I'm not even sure I want the fucking answers to my questions. The questions make me sick enough.
With them gone, I turn my full attention to the poor girl. She hasn't moved. Her skin looks red and angry in some spots beneath the mud. Her ripped jeans are disgusting and dripping on the solid ground beneath her.
"What happened to you?" I whisper, slowly dropping to my knees. I'm not sure what to do here, which is disconcerting initself. Do I let her rest or try to help her? She could have wounds that need attention, and it seems like the guards don't give a shit about her health, so it's up to me.
Decision made, I stand and gather the two rags by my sink and wet them. How long until they turn off the water? Doesn't matter right now. I have an omega who needs some serious attention.
Back on my knees beside the bars, I'm as close as I can get to her. I need Vivian to do the rest of the work, and I'm not sure how that's going to go. She hasn't fucking moved or even twitched since she was dropped in her cell.
"Alright, Vivian," I begin and take a deep breath knowing I'm in for an uphill battle. "Can you wake up?"
Nothing of course so I clear my throat and get louder. "Vivian. I need to check your wounds."
A soft groan reaches my ears, but it's so quiet I think I imagine it. "I just need you to drag yourself a few feet over. Can you do that for me, pretty Omega?"What the fuck? No. No more nicknames for the stranger.
"Damn it, Vivian!" I growl and punch one of the bars. I shouldn't take my anger out on her, but she makes it easy. "Wake up!" A stuttered sigh comes from her, making me sit up straight. "That's it. Come on."
Her head moves next. The total relief I feel when she lifts it off the ground and turns to look at me is ridiculous. I shouldn't feel so much. She needs my help, not my feelings.
"Good girl. Crawl this way." I can't help the tightness of my voice, but she doesn't seem to notice or care. Her eyes are dull and crusty around the edges as she peers at me without emotion.
"Come here," I say with a little more force. I'm fucking worried about whatever has happened. "Let me check for wounds."
