Fabric rustles across the room while I patiently wait. Finally, she clears her throat.
“Okay. You can open them.”
I open my eyes and look at Auryn, and the sight of her tiny frame in the huge sweats tugs at my heartstrings. She looks deceptively vulnerable, like a porcelain doll that might break if handled too roughly.
“Thank you,” she says, “for the pants.”
“De nada.” I jerk my chin at the balled-up remnants of her dress. “Do you want us to wash that? It’s pretty torn up, and none of us are seamstresses, but we can at least get it clean again for you.”
An unreadable expression crosses her face, and she crouches back on the bed. “Burn it.”
I get the feeling this is about more than just clothing, but unless she deigns me worthy of knowing her secrets, I’ll have to take things at face value. “Okay. Consider it burned.”
With the tattered dress in hand, I unlock the door and exit the cell.
Chapter 8
Olly
A shiver runs through me as I wake. Alone.
The warmth that was once there, lulling me into a solid sleep is no more, and I sit up, in my bed, feeling more than just the overwhelming need to pee.
One glance around the room tells me I’m back in my quarters. I rub my eyes, trying to recall what exactly happened and how I ended up here, but I can at least deduce that one of the guys brought me here.
And apparently I was so content I didn’t notice a “brute” dragging me out of Auryn’s cage at all.
No, not her cage. Hernest.
Scientifically, I know everything there is to know about an omega in heat. I’ve studied heat for practically thirteen years, or more accurately, the societal impact of heat on low-population areas.
Areas like the Orion pack, where birth numbers are dwindling year after year.
And I’ve spent the last seven years with the Carlisle pack, rescuing targets—notallomegas, but we’ve rescued our fair share—so if there’s one thing I know, it’s heat. But not even all my years studying the phenomenon could have prepared me for the up close and personal study of Auryn.
My mind wanders back to the cage. I’d stepped in, just in time it seemed, as she had her hand around Emmett’s throat. It didn’t look like she was actually choking him, and judging by the bulge in his pants, I’d say he wasn’t entirely in distress, but I know better than most omegas aren’t prone to attacking anyone…
Well, unless their nest, child, or mate are threatened.
I run a hand through my hair as I get up and head to the bathroom to do my business, my mind racing as I try to recount my study with Auryn.
I wash my hands and dry them off quickly, noting the clock on the wall reads that it’s nearing six in the morning. Which means I’ve been out cold for nearly four hours.
I can’t remember the last time I slept for four hours, undisturbed.
I don’t bother going back to bed, because once I’m up, I’m up. Instead, I head to my computer, start up a log, and info dump to my heart’s content.
The words come easily because I’m recounting our interaction from a clinical standpoint. I log the details the same way I would any omega I came into contact with.
Omega’s blood pressure was elevated, likely due to the stress of capture.
My fingers stop on that word. Capture.
Auryn’s words echo in my brain, resounding and solid:Safety isn’t a fucking cage.
Perhaps this is not the first cage Auryn has seen.
My fingers hover over the keys as I contemplate whether I should log my thoughts. My…feelings.
