Page 81 of The Rust in Her Hair

Lashed to the leg of the bench, chest heaving, his eyes rolled toward the kitchen door and the scent still pouring through it. He drags at the rope again, and the workbench stays put. He can't get up. He can't get to her.

Thank god.

Nico stands over him for a second, breathing hard, both hands braced on his own knees. Then he straightens and turns for the steps.

"Kitchen," he says to Mack, low. "Now."

The two of them climb back up into the kitchen, and I pull the garage door shut behind them, muffling the worst of Adrian's snarls down to something I can almost pretend not to hear.

Nico braces a hand on the counter.

There are angry red marks blooming across his ribs and one high on his shoulder, and there’s a sheen of sweat along his brow. Mack's knuckles are split and already swelling, and his chest is still heaving.

For a second none of us says anything. We stand there in the little kitchen, catching our breath, while Lyra’s scent still swirls around us.

Then Mack drags a hand down his face. "Alright," he says, roughly. "Well, that was fun."

"Owen." Nico looks right at me. "What is going on?"

I blink a little surprised by his question.

"How the hell should I know?" The words come out sharper than I meant them to, but my pack alpha is still staring right at me. "Nico, I'm a beta," I remind him. "I didn't grow up around any of this. I've never even been in a house with an omega in it. But you have."

"I have an omega mother." His jaw flexes. "She was mated to my fathers before I was born, and never once did anything like this happen." He gestures back toward the garage door.

"Then why do you think I’d know anything?"

"You’ve read a ton of shit about packs," Mack says it like it's obvious.

"Yup," Nico says, pointedly. "All those banned books that you keep sneaking into exhibits," he reminds me. "You know about pack histories, group mating, and fated mates."

"Fated mates?" I ask and Nico nods once.

"Yes," he says firmly. "Fated mates."

"Hold on." Mack turns to Nico. "Why're you asking about fated mates?"

But Nico doesn't answer right away.

His eyes cut back to the garage door on the other side of the kitchen.

"Because of what you said happened in the library." His voice drops to a whisper. "You told me he went straight for that closet like something had a hook in him. Then after you brought her home, he tried to tell me about the pull he felt for her. That he wanted to…" His jaw works. "I don't know," he snarls, then pops his neck, clearly still very agitated. "I'm trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. With Lyra. With Adrian." He pauses, and swallows hard. "With me."

"With you?" I frown, not understanding.

For a second the anger drops clean off Nico’s face.

What's left underneath is something I almost never see on him. He looks lost. His brows pull together, his mouth opens like the answer should be right there and isn't.

"I know she can't stay," he says softly. And my heart instantly breaks. "I know that, Owen." He reaches out, cupping my face. "We all know that keeping her here isn’t smart. In fact, it’s the stupidest thing I've ever let happen under my own roof, and I’ve let it go on for a fucking month."

His hand drops from my face as he stares at the kitchen floor.

"I've thought about calling Renata," he continues, not really talking to anyone. "Asking her to take the omega in until she gets on her feet somewhere far from here. I've probably picked up my phone at least a dozen times to do it."

He stops to inhale deeply, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

"And every single time I think about her leaving, something in me goes feral." His voice drops to almost nothing as thick emotion slips through our bond. "I think about her walking out that door and my entire body…revolts. I know, I'd rip to pieces anyone who tried to take her out of this house." He turns and looks at me, and his eyes are wild. "I have no idea why, but I want her. And I’m so sorry."