Page 67 of Rest In Knotty Pieces

His eyes peel open and flare with pleasure and interest. It’s just me and him in the deep grass. I step towards him, unable to stay away.

My cheeks get hot, but I don’t look away. There’s a confidence in my body that’s come from moving with him. I feel…grounded.

“Food’s up!” Rolly shouts.

Blaze mutters but holds out his hand. I put mine in his without a second thought and walk back to where we’ve stopped for lunch.

I sit down and listen as everyone laughs and talks. I don’t feel like I belong. Everything in me promises that this is temporary. It’s not my life.

I just don’t understand why I can’t have it.

The day passes slowly, it’s the most peaceful I’ve felt for as long as I can remember, but that gets me thinking. Why can’t I remember my childhood? Who am I? Why can I only remember snatches of a nightmare? Where is the rest of me?

I get up and follow Roseland as he walks back down the track a ways.

Wait for me.I’m forever following him, watching him move in the shadows ahead, unseen by everyone around him. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only person in the entire world that sees him.

And then I see Pix, with his eyes on the detective, and I know I’m not the only one.

Roseland stops, his shoulders tensing. “I would have given anything to hear you call my name, once.”

It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking to me.

I stare at him, my stomach flips. His voice is low, and no one else can hear him. It’s just us and this feeling that I know him. But I don’t. He saved me and got stabbed. That’s all I know.

Explain. Tell me,I silently demand as I edge closer to him.

He doesn’t explain, deny, or confirm it. In fact, he doesn’t say anything, he turns away, looking out over the forest like he’s planning to be lost in it.

He whirls back, and suddenly he’s got me pressed up against a tree. “Don’t remember. Start a new life, away from this pack, run and find something average and peaceful where you can be someone new.”

I blink up at him. A broken cry is torn from me, a soft sound just heard between the two of us, but it feels like the echo of something from the past. Something deeper and darker twists up and around it, coming from deep inside me.

I lick my lips, terrified for no reason.

“Don’t stop running, little omega,” he whispers.

I shake my head. I don’t understand. What is he saying to me? His lips part, and I stare at them, seeing them in my mind, twisting with an image from the back.

The knife punches deep, his mouth opens wide, and his knees buckle. I rush forward to catch him, but he shoves me away.

“Run! Run! Don’t look back. Don’t stop.”

“You asshole.”

That voice in my memory, that hideous, monstrous voice comes back like an oily wave, leaving me feeling dirty.

I slide past him, putting room between us, ignoring the pain on his face.

My gasp shakes like a shutter in a gale. All the warmth from my body has evaporated, and all I can see is him dying, over and over. Ordering me away.

He shakes his head, gripping my forearm and yanking me back so we’re almost eye to eye. “Save yourself.”

Another command.

Another alpha order I’m compelled to obey.

I grip the material over his chest, scrunching it up until my knuckles turn white, refusing to let go.