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She followed me to the bed, still tense with her arms crossed. She watched as I folded back the blanket, which was spread across the bed at that angle she preferred. All the bedsheets and blankets were square. I’d seen her in a strop that first night, folding the bedding so it was even before she could tilt it.
I turned to her. “Would you like to look around before you turn in?”
“No.” Her voice cracked though, and her eyes darted across the room. There was a flicker of desperation in her gaze and I knew she was seeking something wrong.
She grew more rigid as she found nothing, and as she did, nightshade loosened with a reluctant comfort. A few more times she scanned the hangings across the walls, turned to their sides, to the huge bookshelf stacked with every textbook I’d been able to find on Arkology, to the broad desk beside a reading nook.
There was more to do in here, I knew that—more she must want, but for now, I didn’t think I’d missed anything.
“Alright.” I held a hand out to her.
She slipped by me silently, sitting on the side of the bed. She cleared her throat and her words were so perfectly even, I knew she’d done this part before. “Thank you for the nest.” Her voice didn’t waver. Not even a little. Her hands were folded in her lap, the chin tilted down.
I cocked my head.
Anewmask?
One I hadn’t yet seen.
I crouched before her, tugging her close and ignoring her flinch as she felt the sting of my welts against the sheets.
I nudged her chin to face me, and was met again with those blank orbs of gold.
“You’re mine, sweet omega” I told her. “Your mates will never have your scent.”
Tonight, I would let her place her hatred at my feet. I could live with that because she was mine, never theirs, and she wouldn’t hate me forever.
FOURTEEN
Since the attack, the subject has displayed severe self-destructive behaviours. She has connected the attack with her own failure as an omega.
She was discovered in the garden, lying in a thicket of nettles. She has expressed suicidal ideations, and we have temporarily begun twenty-four-hour monitoring for her safety. She is actively suppressing all omega tendencies by choice and is prone to panic attacks when unable to do so.
SHATTER
“We have to find her a pack?—”
“No pack—no alpha—could love her like that. Absolutely not.”
I tensed, huddling further back under the desk. I’d snuck into Uncle’s office to steal his books on packs, but he and Aunty Lauren had entered, and now I was caught here, listening to them discussing me. Their scents, Uncle’s autumn leaves and Aunty’s fresh linen, were pricked by irritation that made me uncomfortable.
“We have to try,” Aunty Lauren said.
“Have to?” he spluttered. “I don’t have to?—”
“Youare responsible?—”
“Sabotage!” Uncle’svoice shook with fury. “What happened to her was not my fault. And now you insist on saddling me with that... that…” He took a breath, and I could almost feel him scrambling for the word. “Thatcreature?—”
“Eugene!” Aunty Lauren sounded more vicious than I could have ever imagined. I hugged myself tighter, trying to shove back tears that pricked my eyes.
“What do you want me to say?” Uncle said, sounding angry. “She’s not blood—you are the one who got attached, telling her to call us?—”
“She needs us. You can’t truly be comfortable with the Institute taking her back.”
“She’s not right. We both know it. Tom’s been working with me for years, and now he’s gone?—”
“He tried to kill her!”
