Page 50 of Dark Goodbye

I spring into action, dropping the book down onto the cover and racing toward the bathroom. Glancing about, I pull open the drawer just under the sink and pull out an old file. Since its primary function is for nails, it doesn’t work as well as a metal file, but over the course of these last few weeks or so, I’ve whittled away at the chains, keeping my filing to a link in the middle.

So far, Davix hasn’t noticed a thing. When he’s taken the collar off after getting home, he doesn’t examine it for any faults. Hopefully, this holds out until I’m able to escape. Pausing, I set the file down and stare at my reflection in the mirror.

It’s going to crush him, I just know it, but what other option do I have? When I’m in his arms, I’m unable to think about leaving. I’m content being his omega. But during the day, when he’s gone, rationality reigns supreme, allowing me to think clearly.

It’s the only way. It has to be. I’m not sure what else I can do. If I go to Davix with these feelings, he will just use his Alpha dominance on me to put me back in my place. What makes it all the worse is just how much I crave that roughness from him.

I have to be strong, getting out while I still have the willpower. The only thing I haven’t been able to account for is how the bond will react to my leaving. There’s no training manual, no guide to tell me what to expect. The best I can hope for is that Clan Mother will have some words of wisdom for me.

One thing is for certain, however, there’s no way I can indulge in the beta men when I get there. Now that I’ve had Davix, no one else will compare. I’ll just have to live my life in sexual solitude, taking care of matters on my own. I’m not sure what I’ll do during my heat, but hopefully, the statue of Xiarius will be enough. It will have to be.

My heart twists about in my chest as these thoughts bombard me. There’s far more to consider than I originally thought. Closing my eyes, I open up my side of the bond, hoping to get a glimpse into Davix. Maybe that can help me with this turmoil. The moment I touch his side of the bond, it blossoms to life, vibrating with utter joy and happiness.

It hurts.

It hurts far more than words can convey.

In that moment, he pours out all his love, joy, and hope into me, filling me up, overwhelming me. The moment I feel him, I yank back away, slamming the barrier back down. All it will do is confuse me. Maybe once I’m far enough away, I can open back up, maybe allow a little bit of him to carry me through the days.

The only saving grace that I can see is that he hasn’t marked me in kind. What little I do know about the bond is that when both are marked, it’s unbreakable. With only one, it’s not nearly as strong. I hang my head for a moment, resting my forehead against my palm. If only I hadn’t marked him. None of this would be an issue then.

Pausing, I listen out for Mogen, opting to sit on the toilet as I finish. Hopefully, she won’t come in if she thinks I’m taking care of business. I hold the links to the light, judging just how much I have left to go. It seems like only a small bit of metal holds it together, and yet, I still can’t pry it loose.

I sit there, sawing away until my legs go numb. That’s my cue to stop for the day before I happen to get caught. Hopefully, however, my freedom is nigh. Once I can get back to the Clan Mother, she can help divest me of my bond. I just know it.

* * *

Once Mogen leaves me after breakfast the next day, I sprint back to the bathroom. After hearing Davix tell me over and over again how much he loves me while filling me with his cum, I know I don’t have much time. Sitting back down on the toilet, I file away, my fingers flying as fast as they can.

It’s close. So very close. I work at it for hours, only pausing long enough to burrow back into bed while Mogen comes back in with the lunch. My stomach churns as I put on a show and dance for her, oohing and ahhing over Galansce’s latest dish, but it tastes like ash in my mouth. I know today is the day that I’m going to leave. The metal is thin, barely hanging on by a thread.

After she takes my dishes and watches me read for a moment, Mogen leaves again. I pause, sussing through whether or not I can truly go through with this. The turmoil is agonizing, cramping my stomach every time my brain lingers on being without Davix.

But that’s exactly why I have to go. I’m already too far entrenched, too enmeshed with him. Any longer, and I’d be just another mindless drone — the one thing I refused to become. Closing my eyes, I sob as Davix’s touch reaches out, caressing me from the inside.

I slam the barrier back into place, horrified that I’ve even allowed myself to be that careless. What if he knows my plan now? What if he’s coming home to stop me? Craning my neck, I listen out for Mogen, but the house seems deathly quiet. So far, no one is bursting in, catching me in the act.

Walking back to the bathroom, I grab the file and clutch it in my trembling grasp. The movements are not nearly as efficient, forcing me to lose precious time. However, after at least another hour or two, the metal finally gives way, granting me my freedom.

But now, what do I do with it? Hiding the file back where I found it, I pace the room, wringing my hands. No doubt the anxiety is high enough that Davix can still feel it despite my efforts. I have to act. I have to move.

Sifting through the clothes in the closet, all I find are more of those simple white gowns. I can’t walk through Stanlion like that. It’s bad enough I can’t get the actual collar off. I need something that will conceal that too.

I grab a pair of his pants and slide them on, frowning at just how loose and ill-fitting they are. Even when I pull the strings as hard as I can, they still hang low on my hips. And that’s not even as bad as how long the legs hang down. Sitting on the bed, I roll them up, scoffing at just how ridiculous I look.

But if I can make it down to Sector One, I should fit right in. That is unless the revolution has changed everything. Throwing on one of his shirts, I don on a jacket, buttoning it up so that the collar looks more like a decorative piece than a symbol of entrapment.

Holding my breath, I rest my hand on the glass, pausing to see if anyone is coming to stop me. When the house remains still, I test the latch, praying it’s not locked. The window opens without any issue, and I sag against the frame as cool, fresh air kisses my face.

The jump is a little steep, but nothing I can’t handle. At the commune, I was nearly feral, running and jumping everywhere without any issue, but that was before I was chained up like a sick, deranged animal.

Stretching out my arms, I test my strength, nearly sobbing as the muscles themselves feel feeble. It doesn’t matter that I’m physically healed. A month or so of doing nothing seems to have erased the strength I gathered while working at the commune.

Instead of the small, hardened swell of muscles that used to be my biceps, it’s now spongy. The slight definition I managed to get in my thighs is completely gone. Endless decadent meals softened my stomach to the point where I’m rounder, softer somehow.

I grit my teeth as I stare out into the bright, blue sky determination shoring up my defenses. It doesn’t matter if I’m weak. Inside, there still beats the heart of a warrior, of an omega that successfully ran once before.

Even as I stand here, I can’t help but compare the two. At fifteen, my options were just as limited. With no mark and no way of getting about in the world, I was reliant on my parents. Now, I still have no proper mark, and will have to figure it out as I go.