“I’m not angry at you,” he says quietly. “I’m angry atthem.”
My leg starts to shake again, and the restraints pull at the bars. Max curses softly.
“I want to take those off, but we might have to wait until we get back.”
I flex my wrists as much as I can whilst they’re trapped inside the leather. At Max’s words, one of the alphas moves forwards a little, but keeps his distance as much as possible in the small space we’re all trapped in.
“I have a knife on me,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “I could get them off.”
Max looks at me, his gaze questioning. Swallowing hard, I nod. I want these off more than I want space.
The new alpha moves towards me slowly. His raven hair glints in the strip of lighting overhead. He’s sotall.
I shrink back, and he stops, looking from me to Max with concern in his face.
“I won’t hurt you,” he says softly. “We can wait until we get to the house if you’d prefer to have more space.”
The house?
Hesitating, I look down at the restraints. The ache is familiar, a throbbing in my wrists and ankles where I’ve pulled on them over my days in the hospital.
I don’t want to be shackled for a second longer.
Meeting his emerald gaze, my face twists in determination. I can do this. They won’t stop me from having this.
“Now, please.”
His brows fly up, and a hint of something crosses his face.
“Brave omega,” he says with a ghost of a smile.
I grit my teeth and hold out my wrist as he pulls up a stool next to me. On my other side, Max keeps a careful watch as the alpha pulls out a small penknife.
His warm fingers slide under the leather and against my skin as I fight to control my breathing.
Get yourself under control, Ava.
As if sensing my unease, the alpha begins to talk quietly, diverting my attention.
“I’m Lucien, but you can call me Luc,” he murmurs. “I’m going to slide the knife underneath this cuff and move it back and forth. It’ll be a little tight, but it’ll work.”
He glances at me, waiting for approval, and I nod. My hand quivers underneath his, and he grasps my fingers for a second before releasing them.
“You’re doing well,” he says quietly. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”
Max and I watch as he starts to move, slowly twisting the knife and sawing at the leather. I stare at his hand. He’s sogentle.
“I think you’ll like our home.”
His words make me start, and he grips my hand quickly to stop my skin coming into contact with the knife, releasing me quickly.
“We’re not going to the estate?”
Luc locks eyes with Max, a wordless communication passing between them.
“No, sweetheart,” Max murmurs quietly. “You’re not going there.”
“We have a home,” Luc says quietly as he continues working the knife. “Max and I live there with our family.”
