“Here we are,” Samantha declares, opening the familiar door.
I step inside, and the room swims with overlaid memories from my previous stay: the constant sensation that my new freedom was only a dream, noisy gatherings with the other omegas, and a deranged heat that had me threatening Samantha.
But like Callisto pointed out, it was also my first refuge after captivity, and that carries a special beauty.
And at least it’s a decent suite for the three of us to fit into, with an attached bathroom, a couch and TV, and a desk with an office chair.
“All right,” I tell myself. “We’ll do nicely here.” Pep talk complete, I march in and throw the wardrobe doors open. “Did you miss me, pal?” I ask the dark wooden furniture. “Chuck the bag in here, Callisto. No need to unpack since we won’t be long.” I clasp my hands behind my back to hide the tremor.
Callisto nods and sets the bag down, trying to hide a grin. Yes, I talk to furniture. So fucking what? But I’m not mad he finds it funny—if anything, his smile sets me at ease.
The nurse opens the window an inch, letting in a pleasant warm draft. “If you’re ready, Red, we’d like to sit down and have a chat about your expectations for this visit.” Samantha’s choosing her words carefully, avoiding the termheat,which I’m grateful for.
“Not real keen on talking about it,” I mutter, straddling the sofa armrest. “But I get we don’t want a repeat of last time.”
She grins. “You and me both. Come on. Let’s go.”
I should’ve realized that sly smile masked the meaning of her words. “We” includes Dr Marilyn Woods, who honestly, is on my list of least liked people, right beside Bradley Jacks.
I hide my irritation behind a sweet smile as the two alphas and I slide in at a round table set up with scones and jam in the head psychologist’s office.
Dr Woods reaches for my hand. “Red, I can’t tell you what a joy it is to see you again. I’ve been following your progress reports, and can I just say, I’m so sorry to hear about your alpha being taken into custody. Have we heard if he’s doing okay?”
I stare at her hand covering mine. Progress reports. The very reason I wanted out of this place. An irrational desire to plunge my fork through her fingers seizes me—good thing I left Fabby McStabby’s replacement cutlery at home in my bedside table.
“I met with Zack two days ago,” Callisto says, saving me from answering. “He’s doing remarkably well, all thanks to Red and Rickon’s teaching.”
I flash him a grateful look, and he nods slightly.
Dr Woods nods with satisfaction. “That’s wonderful news.”
Watching her, I get the slightest twinge of longing for my new, crazy therapist, Leanne. At least the Einstein-looking artist would make me laugh in this situation. In fact, just thinking of what she said about all psychologists being bastards makes me want to giggle.
Samantha slides a plate across the table, giving me an excuse to withdraw my hand from the doctor’s. “Shall we start now?” the nurse asks. “Red, how about you tell us what you want during your visit?”
I lift a scone off the platter and busy myself adding jam and cream. “Okay, well, I want . . .” The words stick to my tongue and the treat cracks down the middle as my grip tightens. “The thing is, I don’t want to feel this heat. I want . . . I need to be sedated.”
The following silence feels deafening. I shrink away from their stares.
“Okay, then. We can arrange that,” Dr Woods declares, drumming her fingers lightly on the table and exchanging concerned glances with Samantha. “I have one question, though. Given your discomfort with needles, have you given any thought to how you can tolerate the injection?”
Phantom sharp points prick me from the very idea. The only way I take needles is when they’re forced on me. “You’ll have to restrain me,” I whisper, crumbling more dough.
Rickon jolts and swivels on his chair, but Callisto grabs his arm and shakes his head at him. I’m suddenly very glad the suave alpha begged to come along. Rickon scowls, all stiff with refusal, and I drop my head.
A moment later, Rickon kneels at my feet and takes my hands, attitude soft as melted butter. “I’m sorry, Biscuit. We’re doing this however you want, so would you prefer to decide all the details, or do you need us to just make it happen?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Make it happen,” I grind out, breathless. “If you two are here, I think I can survive. But don’t give me a safe word, and don’t believe anything I say once it . . . starts.” My gaze flits to Samantha, hoping she understands.
She nods. I think she might be a kinder person than I’ve given her credit for.
“Okay, beautiful. Leave it all to us.” Rickon lays his head on top of my hands, and we sit for a long moment, soaking in each other’s presence. I know he’s upset for me, not at me; his beautiful heart wants justice for all the wrongs that turned me into this monster. But most important, he’s supporting me now.
Even though the alpha I need most in the world isn’t here, I’m not alone.
Chapter eleven
Red
