My pheromones did that.
I did.
The fucking book was wrong. Fiorella and my instructors were wrong too. Rogues don’t merely hunt and kill.
I always knew that I could protect my brother as a bodyguard.
Now, I know that I can save lives too.
I changed my daily routine, and Mr. Baskerville was so excited that hisexperimentappeared to be a success that he allowed it, keeping everyone apart from Colette away from my cell and reducing the stress methods.
Colette has even been allowed to bring me a bowl of water and a cloth, along with soup once a day for Seventy-one.
I still ripped a tear into the mattress each morning: six more now.
I have become better at this nursing thing. It’s not much different to caring for mission gear, if the equipment was snuggly, beautiful, and purred.
It’s New Year’s Eve.
Earlier, when Colette passed me the fresh water through the door, after I’d finished my exercises because I was determined to keep up my strength, she warned me that the staff were putting on a fireworks display on the outside.
“I’m warning all the Rogues,” Colette said. “Don’t be panicked that they’re lining anyone up and shooting them.”
It was a fair fear.
I gave a fierce grin. “Trust me. Guns don’t scare me.”
Yet the fact that Seventy-one still hasn’t woken up is the one thing that does fucking terrify me.
How long will Mr. Baskerville allow this experiment to continue before he takes my Omega away from me? How long before he decides that it’s a failure?
Then will he…?
I grit my teeth.
I can’t think it, while Seventy-one is warm and safe in my arms.
I’ve spent the last week caring for him, talking to him and confessing my heart to him in a way that I haven’t to anyone.
I pretend that he can hear me.
I have breathed in his pheromones and scent deeply.
He’s mine now.
Pack.
I easily turn Seventy-one on my lap, before unbuttoning his shirt.
He smiles, and his purr deepens.
I steady him against my chest.
Then I pull the bowl of water closer with my free hand, dampening the cloth in it.
I sigh, wishing that the water was at least warm. I am used to washing in freezing water, but it feels wrong to have to clean my Omega in cold water.
I shrug the shirt off Seventy-one’s narrow shoulders, revealing his smooth skin.
