That reject the very idea of it—of me—day after day.
Every time it happens I feel my illness dig its claws in a little more, clawing its way deeper into the very heart of me. When they do eventually leave me—and they will—it’s going to be so much worse than it was before.
The idea of that makes trepidation curl in my stomach. It was already so bad.
How will I survive when they leave me a second time?
Maybe I should go with them.The thought creeps in, unbidden, likely from my omega, who doesn’t give a shit that they broke our hearts. They’re here now and that is all she sees, all she cares about. And she doesn’t want to be parted from them again.
Almost like he can sense that moment of weakness, Forsythe leans into me, pinching my chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently. “We will take care of you, Florence. We need to. Please come with us to Bravonne. I promise it won’t be like you’re imagining. You’re our mate,cor mea.We wouldn’t be able to stay away from you. Surely you can see that.”
I want to believe him. God, I really, really do, and I tell him that, softly, “I want to believe you, Sythe. And I believe that you believe it… but if you bond with Isadora, especially while I’m there, I think my heart will shatter. And I don’t mean that metaphorically. I mean that literally. I think my heart would break and stop beating from the pain of it. From the rejection of it.”
All of them growl and shift like they want to rip apart the very idea. But they might as well rip themselves apart. They’re the ones doing this. They’re the threat.
I run a hand down my face, suddenly feeling so goddamn weary. I still have two more classes to teach today. Ugh. “This is pointless,” I tell them. “We’re just talking around in circles. You clearly aren’t going to change your minds about being with me, and Ican’tchange my mind about going with you. I’m not reckless enough to put my health in your hands.”
They all flinch, like I struck them. But it’s the truth.
“Your health is already in our hands, killer,” Thayer says evenly, pushing my berry blast smoothie in my direction.
“Yeah and look at how well you’ve handled it.”
I drag the plastic cup the rest of the way to me, and suck on the straw more for something to do than anything else.
“Okay, so we’re currently at an impasse,” Court says, smacking a hand down on the table. “Let’s talk about something else… anything else.” He leans toward me, eyes pleading. “I just want to spend time with you, Pix. That’s it. I missed you like fucking mad.”
I set down the cup. “Okay, let’s talk about how you’ve had people following me.”
Grieves winces. “I told you I needed to know you were safe. The best way to do that was to put my own men on you.”
“Right, because nothing says safety to an omega more than creepy men lingering around corners and darting out of sightwhen I look at them. Or, you know, strange black cars with tinted windows parked across the street all day, every day.”
He shrugs, unrepentant. “They were under orders to stay out of sight, while keeping an eye on you.” When I glare at him, he only softens his gaze. “I’m not going to apologize for keeping you safe, bubbles. Besides they stopped a fuckton of people from getting to you, without you even realizing it.”
I blink at that. “They did?”
He nods. “Yeah, more than I care to tell you. Mostly photographers, but not all. Some were… fans.”
I frown. “How could they tell who was going to be a problem or not?” I mean the photographers I get, that’s easy enough to identify, but ‘fans’ is pretty broad. What if they kept away new students for the yoga studio, new members—or old members for that matter—at the bank, or just random people going about their normal business?
“We have people watching socials for mentions of your name, identifying anyone who might be an actual threat to you, and then we go from there,” Forsythe says, stirring milk into his tea. “We do the same thing for all of us.”
My brows jump in surprise, even though that makes sense.
Of course they do that. Of course they have systems and teams and protocols for things like this.
Of course I don’t, because why would I?
I stare down at my drink, watching the condensation bead and drip down the side of the cup, my thoughts tangling up into something tight and suffocating. The gulf between us yawning even wider.
This is their world.
Security. Surveillance. Control.
And I’m supposed to just… step into it. Let them manage me the way they manage everything else, while I stay alone and separate and hidden.
It's too much.
