Page 25 of Puck Your Bunny

It's useless. The smell of bergamot, leather, amber, and sea breeze is baked into my pores. They knotted me repeatedly for three straight days, forcing my body to accept them and rewritemy internal chemistry to recognize them as my mates. The soap does nothing to change that reality.

Suffocating guilt crashes over me, hitting so hard my knees buckle. Sliding down the wet wall of the shower stall, I hit the floor while the hot water beats down, plastering my messy red hair to my face.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms around my legs as a broken sob tears from my throat, echoing in the cramped bathroom.

I'm a traitor, consumed by the reality of giving in to my instincts and sleeping with those Alphas. The moment the fever took over, I surrendered, opening my legs and begging them to fix me. I let them replace my Alphas.

Squeezing my eyes shut, the faces of my dead mates flash to the front of my mind.

Emmett, with his warm cocoa skin, easy smile, and bright eyes. His chipped front tooth always peeked out when he laughed at my terrible jokes, his scent of old books and fresh rain wrapping around me.

Hale, with his rough, calloused hands and the dark stubble covering his jawline. After a long day in his shop, he smelled like pine needles, rain, and sawdust, always pulling me into his lap the second he walked through the front door.

They died in that crash, bleeding out on the asphalt and leaving me and Brendan alone in a world not designed for broken Alphas.

I promised to stay loyal to their memory, keeping other Alphas away. Spending years suffering through the agonizing cramps and wasting sickness of bond rejection, I wore the pain like a badge of honor. It was my punishment for surviving when they died.

Now, the guilt tells me I treated them like they were nothing. I treated Brendan like he was nothing, letting three hockeyplayers walk into my backyard and erase years of loyalty just because they smelled right.

I rest my forehead against the cool tile, offering a broken whisper to the empty shower stall. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

I cry until my throat burns and my chest aches. The hot water eventually turns lukewarm, then freezing cold as the old heater runs out, leaving me shivering on the wet tile for a long time to let the ice numb my skin.

Forcing myself to stand, I turn the water off and step onto the bathmat. I grab a faded towel from the rack to dry off with slow, mechanical movements, my muscles screaming in protest with every stretch. The soreness deep in my core is a constant, unavoidable reminder of what happened in that shed.

Walking into my bedroom, I dig through the dresser for a clean pair of oversized gray sweatpants and a massive black hoodie that swallows my frame. Pulling the hood up hides my damp red hair and the silver-gray roots framing my face. Brendan needs me. I have to focus on the only person who should matter in my life.

Back in the kitchen, the linoleum floor squeaks under my bare feet. Vinny sits at the small dining table, tapping his thumb against the screen of his tablet. He looks up as I enter, his eyes doing a quick sweep of my baggy clothes and damp hair.

Vinny sets his tablet face down on the table. "Feeling any better?"

I walk over to the coffee maker, pouring myself a cup of the lukewarm sludge left over from the morning. "I'm fine. Give me the update."

Vinny swipes his tablet screen, clearing his throat as he focuses on his normal routine, pushing aside the memory of the confrontation with the hockey players.

Vinny traces a finger down a column of numbers. "Bren had a slightly elevated heart rate the first night you were locked in theshed. He was agitated, making a lot of vocalizations and fighting the Hoyer lift during his transfer to the bed. I had to give him his prescribed muscle relaxers to get him to calm down."

Guilt flares in my chest again. Brendan smelled the distress rolling off me during the initial onset of the heat. Even with a traumatic brain injury, his Alpha instincts recognized his Omega was in pain.

Vinny swipes to the next tab on the medical app. "But he settled down the next day. His vitals have been stable since then. He ate all his blended meals without any issues, and his incontinence schedule is normal. I rotated his resting positions every two hours to avoid bedsores. He's been watching his documentaries in the living room all afternoon."

I nod, staring into my black coffee. "Okay. Thank you, Vinny. I appreciate you staying the extra shifts."

Vinny stands up and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. "It's no problem, Vayda. I'll see you tomorrow morning at eight for his mid-week shower."

Vinny walks out the front door, leaving me alone in the quiet house as the lock clicks into place.

My cell phone vibrates on the kitchen counter before I can take a sip of my coffee, the screen lighting up with Kristy's name. Staring at it for a few seconds with a clenching jaw, I finally reach out and swipe the screen to answer.

I press the phone to my ear, skipping the greeting. "You've got a lot of nerve calling me right now."

Kristy scoffs over the line. "Oh, good, you aren't dead. Vinny texted me and said things were getting eventful when the guys came inside the house. I wanted to make sure you didn't murder anyone."

I grip the phone tight enough to make my knuckles turn white. "I'm pissed you called them. You had no right to interfere,Kristy. You brought three professional hockey players into my backyard and left them there."

"I had every right." A sigh crackles through the speaker. "I'm your friend. You locked yourself in a shed with no supplies and a fever that was cooking your brain to the point you thought I was Emmett! I'm not apologizing for keeping you out of a body bag."

I pace across the scuffed kitchen floor. "They're too young. They're famous. They've got massive careers and a public image to worry about. I'm going to ruin their lives if I let them stay."