Page 51 of Rot In Knotty Pieces

Before she can do anything else, I kiss her until she forgets she’s mad, until she’s naked and moaning under me. The cold water rushes around us. We roll until we’re both saturated, but neither of us care. It’s not comfortable, but that kind of makes it more exciting.

Fuck our other idiot alphas. Who cares about a bit of air? I do need to thank them though because to the victor come the spoils, and I just won this scrimmage.

And then she’s making noises, moaning and panting my name, and I forget about everything else but her and how good she feels as she shatters around me.

Merle

Isee the blackbird and roll to my feet, smiling as it hops further away. It flies to a bush and sits there before standing up and calling to its mate. I was named after the blackbird. He said I was common and plain. Nothing special, but he would turn me into a weapon.

What? Where did that come from?

My skin breaks out in prickles, and the happiness leaches out of me, leaving just an icy shell and a sense of impending doom. I stare at the birds as they hop from branch to branch before they suddenly spread their wings and disappear.

My heart’s beating too fast, and I can see spots. I wrap my arms around myself. Where are my alphas? Where is Pix?

I wandered too far from the nest. Why did I come so far?

The memories sink their claws in, growing stronger, until I can feel the wrongness. Until there are two worlds superimposed over each other. I try to shove them aside, but I can’t. The blackbirds reappear, and I stumble after them, following them as they lead me further and further away from the nest.

I have to know. There’s something screaming inside me, and I have to know what it is.

I had parents, a mother. Everyone has them. Why don’t I ever think about them? Why don’t I know what they look like? What happened to my parents?

The question freezes everything inside me, ripping open a wound I didn’t know was there. I’m scared now, more scared than I’ve ever been. In my head, Dove starts to scream.

A woman lies on the ground, her eyes open and unseeing, her throat slit. The flash of that horrifying image slams into my memory, and I freeze like a wild animal caught by a predator, sweating, shaking, hunted. I don’t know if it’s a real memory or not. It’s not mine, I shouldn’t have it.

A man with a bird skull mask looms in the dark, watching.

Is this real?

I’m breathing hard, my fingernails have bitten into my upper arms, and I’m bleeding. Did he kill my family? Did he steal me from my family? Is this Father?

He reaches out his other arm, reaching past me.

I explode out of that memory darkness, pacing the clearing. The blackbird is long gone. My alters have come, I can feel them in my mind, watching through our eyes, remembering, seeing what I’m thinking, seeing it all. What is going on?

Help. I need help. I just have to get back to the alphas.

“Give me control!” Kestrel shouts.

I whirl, turning in a circle, hyperventilating. He grabs a wrist, a pale wrist, and squeezes. I cry out, staring at how huge his hand is in the black glove and the red he leaves all over the pale skin.

No! No! No! No!

It’s not my hand. It’s not MY HAND.

“MERLE!” Jay screams. “Let go!”

I can’t. I have to remember. It’s right there. It’s important. The world is burning. Our world is burning.

He’s got no eyes. Just a white, filthy skull on black fabric. No face. Nothing human. Just a bird skull. He is death.

“You can call me Father.”

I howl, spinning around and around. Gripping my head. The memories keep coming. I’m breaking. Breaking.

I can’t stay…