Good, take a very good look at what you’re never going to get to touch again.
“Only Omegas who behave get clothes, according to Mr. Finn,” I calmly reiterate what I was told.
Cillian might not have been the one to say it—clearly, Finn wasn’t lying about him getting shot—but they’re all to blame for how I’ve been treated. I don’t care if the words came from his mouth or not.
Maeve comes over to the table, Irish curses falling from her tongue. She’s clearly scandalized by the way I showed up to dinner naked as she places the food on the table.
I lean forward and fill my plate, my chest hitting the table as I put some mashed potatoes and roasted chicken on the expensive china. My stomach is probably the size of a strawberry right now, but this looks delicious, and I think I’ve made my point on the food strike side of things.
It’s an added bonus to eat, as though I didn’t go through multiple courses on how to be a lady. Naked, unrefined, and pissed off—the opposite of what an Omega should be.
“Things are going to be changing. This isn’t what we wanted,” Cillian grits out.
“Oh, you didn’t want an Omega naked in your home, ready to get on her knees and take your knot whenever you require? Hmm… could have fooled me,” I reply, picking apart the chicken with my fingers.
The first bite makes my mouth water, but I almost want to throw up at the same time. I keep eating regardless. My careless attitude is pissing the men around me off, and I relish it.
I hate them.
“Elena,” Logan growls my name.
“Don’t fucking speak to me, Logan,” I spit right back at him. He was a fucking traitor to my family.
I dare to look at him, his blue eyes pleading with me. Eyes that I once loved, that brought me so much comfort. I can’t stand the shade now.
“It’s Lorcán,” he corrects solemnly.
I laugh sardonically and take another bite of chicken. “Of course it is. Are you getting a good look? Lorcán?” I draw out his name angrily as I lean in his direction, pointing at him with my fork. “Isn’t this what you wanted all those years while you stood by my side and fucking betrayed me? Take it all in now ‘cause it’s the only time you’ll see it. I’d rather fucking kill myself than sleep with a fucking rat.”
He grips the table like he’s trying to control himself but says nothing.
Logan—Lorcán—I fucking guess, was always in control. I want to break that control; I want to break him. He was spying on my family, onme, this whole time.
My gaze meets Finn’s across the table, and I swear it’s like he’s seeing me for the first time. He’s rubbing his scarred jaw with a thumb, but his eyes don’t leave mine until I break contact with him to look at Declan.
“I fucking hate you too,” I spit at him.
He looks away like it hurts.
Good. I hope it does.
“Elena, that’s enough,” Logan—I mean,Lorcán—chastises.
Cillian remains steadfastly quiet; my guess is because he can’t believe that I’m behaving this way. Or maybe it’s due to the fact that I had the gall to come down here naked in the first place. Either way, it’s clear that, despite everything, my perfume is still thick as hell and is influencing the Alphas in the room.
I eat my food even though my throat protests and my stomach churns.
A sudden reality that I hadn't considered hits me.
“Did you kill my father?” I ask Lorcán.
If he says yes, I think I’ll actually try to kill him, still naked in this dining room. Stab his perfectly blue eyes with this fork.
His face genuinely falls. “No, I respected Matteo.”
“Don’t fucking say his name, you liar,” I hiss.
“He knew who I was this whole fucking time, Elena. I was sent to be your detail when the agreement was made. Matteo made the pack contract, not Anthony,” he throws out angrily.
