Page 76 of Wild Omega

Rickon braces both hands on the back of the door and groans.

“I thought you were turning me in,” I murmur.

He stiffens and turns. “That wouldn’t be fair to either of us. But I would appreciate some answers.”

I nod and he heads into the kitchen to pour us iced tea. I drop onto the sofa and clasp my hands around my knees. The real question is, how much do I tell him? If he knows how used and broken the real Red is, will he decide I’m too much work, scent match or not? He might think I’m making up the whole soulmate thing to begin with just to get his help.

But I couldn’t lie about that even if I tried.

Lost in my thoughts, I twitch when glass clinks nearby as Rickon sets our cups on the coffee table. His pale green eyes bore into me as he sits down, not even reaching for his glass. “Did you commit a crime?”

“What?” I gasp. “No. Well, not really.” I guess if you count stealing while I helped myself to a shower and new outfit, plus the purse. Maybe the OCB wants to question me about the luggage at the hotel?

Ha! As if. This has Samantha stamped all over it.

I curl my fingers around the cold glass, watching the ice cubes float in the liquid. “So, a few weeks ago, the OCB rescued me from this place that was keeping omegas against their will under the guise of providing medical treatment . . . except half the conditions were made up.” I lick my lips, wondering about my own so-called psychosis. Will Rickon also think I’m not fit for a regular life?

His eyes widen. “The big raid that was on the news?”

I shrug. “Probably. I can’t even remember anywhere I lived before, and, well, something like that situation kind of does a number on your thinking cap.” I tap the side of my head, still not looking at him.

My legs shiver involuntarily. Fuck, this is a hundred times worse than any of those shrink meetings because I actually care about Rickon’s opinion of me.

“They took us to the Omega Center, but I ran into a few problems there.” I take a sip of my tea, letting the cool drink draw some of the heat from my mouth. “I couldn’t use their book of scent samples. The combined smell of so many alphas made me puke.”

Rickon’s handsome brow furrows. “So it’s complete chance that you ran into Callisto? And me?”

“Chance. Fate. Effort.” I shrug, feeling small, like the apartment swelled while we were out. “Most of the time I’m pretty sensible, but there are times—” I hesitate. Should I just get up and walk out now? Save myself the humiliation? Maybe my dream of alphas isn’t worth the trouble and I’m better off striking out on my own.

The discontent vibrating through my brain hums in the silence. One is quiet, as it’s been since I met Rickon. The other, steady and proud, belongs to Callisto’s. But at least one more hum rings between my ears, and it’s always agitated. I know that feeling too well from my own experiences. And now that one voice has settled, I really don’t want to go back, don’t want to lose Rickon. Don’t want to feel alone again.

Tears prickle in the back of my nose and I rub my face to warn them away. Best to get it over with. “There are times when I’m not myself. The shrinks at the Omega Center declared I wouldn’t be fit to live in the real world without more therapy and shit.” I drag my lip through my teeth, my hands tightening on my glass. “It felt like the illegal hub all over again, so I left. Without permission.”

Unable to bear the silence, I glance up. Rickon sits across from me, tears trickling down his cheeks. The sight shocks me so much I spasm and knock over my glass, splashing icy liquid all over my knees.

“Shit!” I snatch the glass up. “I mean, why areyoucrying?”

Rickon sniffs and runs for a towel, kneeling to wipe my knees and mop the floors. He doesn’t answer until he’s done. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, Red. You were locked up for years?”

I grab his shoulders. “You did hear the part about me being certifiably fucked in the head, right?”

He wipes his face on his arm and leans on my knees. “You already told me that, the moment we met.”

I stare at him, my fingers digging in tighter. My brain runs back over everything we said and did. I mean, yeah, I did say I was certified crazy, I think. I also said I was an actress and other stuff. But he doesn’t care? I huff out a deep breath. “You’re an idiot.”

He hiccups through a chuckle. “Only for you.”

I shake my head. “I should be the one crying, not you.”

“Do you want to cry?” he shoots back.

“No,” I hiss.

“Then let me cry for you.” He buries his head in my lap and sobs. “You’ve been through so much.”

I sit frozen, every tremor shaking his shoulders translating into my hands and his tears drenching my body suit. No one cries for me, ever. No one but him.

When he calms a little, I stroke his white hair. “You’re not human, are you?”

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