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My mouth is dry. I struggle to swallow.

“Thirsty?” Angel asks, noticing the movement.

I nod, still not sure if I am ready to speak.

I am deep in my own head.

Angel dives to a pile of fluffy white towels, which are piled messily at the side of the room. Behind the towels stands a brass tray, which is stacked with bright bottles of shampoo, conditioners, body wash, and bottles of water.

Angel snatches up the tray, which almost overbalances in his eagerness to carry it back to the bath. He drops it with a clatter on the marble floor.

Then he unscrews the water, holding it to my lips.

Gratefully, I take eager gulps, before washing it around my mouth to remove the taste of the leather guard.

Angel drops some water onto his fingers, before tracing it over my lips. I dart my tongue out, softening my lips in relief.

Angel offers the remaining water to Paige, tipping it up to her mouth. I tighten my hold on her, as Angel holds the water for her to drink, and her neck bobs.

“You’re doing so damn well,” Angel praises. Paige purrs. “I’m proud of how you took what you needed in your heat. You were brave and strong. Now rest and let me take care of you.” He fixes me with a cool stare. “Both of you.”

Angel grabs my wrist, lifting it into the air away from Paige. He tuts at the redness and light bruising that circles it.

What’s wrong? I’m proud of those marks.

“You pulled at the manacles,” he says, flatly.

I smile. “I did.”

What did he expect? It felt good to know I was safely contained.

I could be as feral as I needed but I was still safe.

Held.

“You were incredible,” Paige says, dreamily. “My good, feral Alpha.”

I shiver like she has electrocuted me.

I never reckoned I would hear those words, and never from an Omega.

“You were,” Angel agrees.

He pushes a lavender body wash aside to pick up a tube of arnica ointment that I am familiar with. I suffer as many accidents and injuries as Rhett does.

Angel squeezes some of the menthol scented ointment onto his fingers, and Paige and I both scrunch up our noses at the bitter aroma.

“Deal with it.” Angel smirks.

“Mean Alpha.” Paige pouts.

“The worst.” Angel drops a quick kiss onto her lips, as he bends over my wrists, gently smoothing the cream into my bruised skin in massaging circles. “Keep your arms on the side of the tub.”

I rest my forearms on the side of the tub, reluctant to stop touching my Omega.

Paige twists her head to offer her lips to me like she understands how I am feeling.

I kiss her, slow and tender, and nothing like I did during my rut.