“How's your ankle? Do you need to prop it up?” he asks.
I shrug my shoulders and hands are shifting me around in the seat before my eyes get heavier. They could be taking me to a dungeon for all I know, but the exhaustion is too heavy. You’d think I’d be wide awake after being sedated, but it’s quite the opposite. I feel like I could nap for days.
“Are you hungry? Do you want us to pick something up on the way home?” Cole asks and I shake my head, leaning my weight against Mack.
My stomach is unsettled, and the idea of eating right now might make me throw up. I just need to sleep off this post-heat haze and the result of my injury. I’ll be back up and running in no time and I can get out of their hair.
Though, the thought of that seems almost as unsettling as my stomach. They offered to take care of me.
I’m not a burden.I repeat it in my head over and over, trying to undo all these feelings of never being good enough for anyone to keep.
I’ll let them take care of me. I won’t sabotage this—whatever this is.
They’re still perfect strangers.
Strangers who were there for me, and with scents that drive me wild. Once this post-heat fog releases me from its clutches I’ll be able to think straight.
All of this is crazy and sudden, but I owe it to myself to see how it plays out.
So I do what any Omega would post-heat. I snuggle into the Alpha holding me, and let them do what they’re supposed to do, take care of me.
I wake up with a groan, my stomach churning and the pain in my ankle throbbing. When I blink open my eyes, the room is dark and unfamiliar. The bedding I'm wrapped in is soft, a blush pink, maybe? The bed is a king size and I feel small, cocooned in it, but lonely.
Glancing at my left, there’s a window, but the curtains are closed. I smack my lips together; they feel dry and I’m almost positive I could house an entire gallon of water.
“Can I get you something?” a deep voice asks and I nearly jump out of my skin as I clutch the blanket against my chest.
The figure approaches me and taps the light next to me. It’s a pink and white Turkish lamp that gives off a gentle glow in the room.
I slowly relax as I realize it’s Jonah. But unease fills me as I take a look at his handsome face. Dark circles rim his heavy-lidded eyes, and he looks paler than I remember.
I rub my tongue against the roof of my mouth, trying to get rid of some of the dryness.
“How long was I out?” I croak.
“About fifteen hours,” he says with a shrug. “Hungry? Thirsty?”
“Yes, very,” I reply, and I’m making the motion to get up, until Jonah puts his massive hand on my shoulder.
“You need to stay off your feet for at least a week. We have crutches for you, but the more you can stay with your ankle propped up, the better. I’ll get you what you need. What would you like?”
I rest back into the bed, and I can tell the sheets are high end as I snuggle back against the pillow.
“Maybe something light for my stomach to get back into eating. Some toast, soup, or applesauce. Some water and ginger ale, maybe. Whatever you have is fine.”
“I’ll be right back,” he says, and it seems like he wants to say more, but doesn’t.
I take a deeper look around the room and I swear it’s like someone scooped out my dream bedroom and spat it out into the space. Everything is soft, light pink sheets and curtains. While the dresser and nightstands look like European antiques, along with everything else in the room.
It’s expensive and elegant and I wonder if maybe I’m dreaming, because surely this can’t be my life right now, right?
My head is pounding slightly and I’m having a hard time recalling much from my heat right now. But I have a sense that this room was designed with an Omega in mind and that just sours my stomach even more.
I know I don’t have the right to feel jealous. Hell, I don’t have the right to feel anything. We don’t even know each other, and they’ve been kind enough to agree to take care of me while my ankle heals. Nevertheless, I’m just an Omega. The thought of someone else lying on these sheets has irrational panic licking up my spine.
While there’s no lingering scent in the room, it’s the idea that I’m encroaching in someone’s space. While it might be a perfectly decorated space, I find myself kind of hating it.
When Jonah comes back to the room with a tray of food in his hand, he must sense something is wrong.
