Page 14 of Rot In Knotty Pieces

“Her back was mangled,” I murmur, watching his face carefully.

“Not the first time either.”

I close my eyes and breathe through my nose, trying hard to calm the rage.

“Kestrel has the pain? How does that work? How is it possible?”

“As far as we can figure out, they can take the pain. Dove doesn’t feel anything, but the others are gone and the pain with them. There have been stories of people not feeling broken bones or tendons, walking with stab wounds or gunshot wounds. The human body and mind is an amazingly complex beast. Someone has her pain, but I haven’t seen a peep of them, not a flicker.” Roseland dries my hands carefully and applies some antibacterial ointment.

My stomach churns. Dove is gorgeous; she is like a kid sister I didn’t know I wanted. A sister I want to protect and look after. Of course, I want her around, but Merle is missing. And Kestrel…and if they are injured. What could be so bad that Raptor would be hiding?

Her back flashes in my mind. I keep seeing it.

I pick up the shards of the mug and put them in the bin, draining the sink of water. Feeling like my life is going down with the dishwater.

“How are we going to get her to come back?”

“We aren’t. She will come back when she’s ready. They will come back,” Roseland says and sniffs. He sits heavily on the chair and leans over his knees.

“You look exhausted still. Why don’t you go back to bed? We can watch her,” I suggest.

“She needs me.”

“She needs us,” I protest, reaching out and tangling our fingers together. “You’re not alone anymore. We’re all doing this together. Our omegas, our alphas. One family. One pack.”

Aaron Roseland looks terrified at the thought, so terrified that I find myself chortling and wanting to kiss him, which is new and interesting.

“Go and sleep, Roseland,” Blaze says and brushes past him. “I will keep everyone safe for a few hours.”

In the face of two alphas telling him to go, he gives in gracefully, slumps in the chair like getting up is too hard, but nods. I pull him up and watch as he stumbles away to the bedroom, where he collapses on the bed. I walk to the door and watch him for a moment. He looks like he’s already asleep, so I pull the door shut, plunging him into the dark.

“How is he, really?” I ask, turning to Pix, who is sitting on the counter, his arms around one knee. He looks wrecked, too.

Pix looks up with haunted eyes. “It was hard. He knew her from before. He’ll have nightmares. We both have nightmares.”

Sage pushes up from where he is sitting and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Pix glances out the front of the house, looking at the child in our omega’s body.

“And her?” I ask cautiously, watching Blaze watch him from out of his line of sight.

“Dove is…traumatised. She has nightmares; she screams. You can’t say certain words around her, but we don’t know which ones will set her off until we say them. She’s terrified of strangers and hates it when we go out of sight. She struggles to eat, occasionally has accidents, stutters, lacks basic communication skills, and completely shuts down when triggered. In short, she is a damaged, hurt child who just needs to feel safe in a world that has given her all the evidence to say that she can’t.”

I blow out my breath, puffing out my cheeks. “In a world which is about to get a whole lot worse.”

“Exactly,” Pix says, sliding off the counter. He pulls open the fridge. He glares, then closes it again, but when he turns, Blaze is holding out a packet of chips that is a flavour he liked to eat a lot.

For some reason, this hits the omega hard, and I wonder if anyone has been taking care of him. I think perhaps Pix might cry, but he just takes the chips and leans against Blaze. That act alone shows me how bad things have gotten.

Two damaged omegas and an alpha who is borderline. Okay, we can do this.

“We couldn’t wait for you. We had to get her safe,” Pix says as he leans against him. He starts to cry. I stare, my eyes wide open. “There was blood everywhere, and Rose kept looking out the windows. It hurt. It hurt the bonds so much to keep driving. I was shaking and sobbing, but I kept going.”

Blaze wraps him in his arms, completely enfolding him.

“You did the right thing,” Blaze murmurs. “Absolutely the right thing. I’m sorry we weren’t there. You are my bonded omega. I was always going to find you. I’m sorry it took so long.”

Pix shudders, then turns so he’s leaning sideways, his head on Blaze’s shoulder. He opens the chips and starts eating. Blaze wraps himself around our omega, holding him tight. Like a silent promise not to let go.