I pull her in, hold her, and let the world fade out.
For the first time since I can remember, I feel calm.
She’s mine. We’re hers. It’s as simple, and as complicated, as that. And I’m never leaving my omega alone while she’s in heateveragain. I don’t care what Rainer has to say about it.
CHAPTER 20
Emery
If I hada dollar for every time I thought being an omega would be all about fuzzy socks and warm packs and the kind of sex you only see on private message boards, I’d have enough to buy myself a new body right now. A body that wasn’t strung out on a heat cycle with every nerve ending humming like an electric fence but somehow still nowhere near “satisfied.”
Instead, I have a battered paintbrush, a cup of cold instant coffee, and a canvas that’s already started to warp from the humidity in my room.
I drag the brush through a smear of cobalt and try to remember what it was I wanted to paint. Something bright and honest, maybe a field at dusk. What comes out is a fractured mess of blue slashed through with red jagged lines colliding in the center like a car crash.
The air in my bedroom is a solid block of sugar and salt. I changed the sheets this morning—twice—but my scents linger, clinging to the curtains and pooling in the corners. I crack the window to let in a little city noise and fresh air. It helps, but not enough. My nest, which last night was ground zero for a very public, very loud meltdown, is now a crime scene. There are twopillows on the floor and one of Wyatt’s sweatshirts balled up under my comforter like a secret lover.
I stare at the canvas and try to remember how to breathe.
A knock rattles the door.
I don’t move. The last time someone knocked, it was Wyatt, and I’m not sure either of us recovered from what happened next. The thought makes my pulse spike. I wonder, for a split second, if it’s Ranier, come to personally evict me for the sin of existing.
But the voice that comes through the crack is Bastion’s. “Emery? You awake?”
I consider playing dead, but then he says, “I have coffee and a muffin,” and all at once the part of me that still wants to be alive sits up and takes notice.
I try to fix my hair in the reflection of my phone screen.Hopeless.I wipe paint off my face with the inside of my wrist and then call out, “Yes, you can come in.”
Bastion pushes the door open with his elbow. He’s balancing a tray in one hand. His arm is still in a sling, but he’s ditched the bandages and looks almost healthy, if you ignore the bruises fading to yellow under his eyes. He smells like pine needles and honey, a sharp, clean note that makes the rest of the world drop away for a second.
“Nice look,” he says, eyeing the paint on my face.
“You should see the other guy,” I say, which makes him smile.
Bastion sets the tray on my desk and looks around like he’s expecting to find something broken, or maybe just checking to see ifI’mbroken. “I heard you survived. Wyatt said you might have eaten him alive.”
I bark a laugh. “He got out alive, but just barely.”
Bastion sits on the edge of the bed, just outside my nest, and offers me the coffee.
I take the coffee and let the steam burn my lips. “Is this a wellness check, or are you actually happy to see me?”
He looks up, surprised. “Both, maybe? You kind of scared us, you know.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not dead. I’m not even sick. I just—” I gesture vaguely at my body, at the nest, at the world. “Heat is stupid. That’s all.”
Bastion nods, then drops his gaze again. “Sorry I didn’t come by yesterday. Or the day before. I… should have.”
I swallow, hard. “It’s fine. You’re here now.”
Bastion licks his lips, then lets out a breath that smells like nerves. “You know, I thought about it. Coming here. But Ranier—” He trails off, then shakes his head. “Never mind.”
“No, what?”
He shrugs, which looks awkward with the sling, but he powers through. “Ranier said you needed space. Said it was best if we let you ride it out.”
I snort. “That sounds like him.”
