Page 33 of Chain Me Knot

No time to grieve.

No time to process.

Just a sudden, brutal transition from daughter to orphan to omega ward of the state in the span of a single afternoon. Without any extended family to take me in, I was taken directly to The Haven Institute still wearing my school uniform, still numb with shock. All my dreams of seeing the ocean with my parents that summer—our planned vacation—reduced to something I'll only ever know from the photographs on my phone that the Haven administrators confiscated. I was at Haven for three years before Mercer sent me to the Basement. Mira and Leah were already there. The Basement brought us together. That year made us more sisters than friends. My only remaining family.

And then…and then we escaped, and they were lost to me forever two years ago. At least I think it’s that long.

Until Mira came to see me.

I can only hope I see Leah again.

Maybe Mira will come to the beach with me. I hope the water really is that blue, as sparkly as the pool. I hope the sand really is warm. I'll have to learn to swim if I want to live on my beach. Another skill to acquire once I'm truly free.

Another thing to add to the list of “after.”

Is it too much to hope that my afterlife will be better than my life so far? If only I could stop being omega. That would ensure I’d have something to really look forward to. No one or nothing could touch me again.

No more barking. Possession. Knots. Cocks. No more orders.

No more alphas.

I’ve had ten lifetimes’ enough of alphas, only…

Only the alphas downstairs are…different. No less powerful. One barked order from them and I’d be on my knees faster than I could comprehend, but they…haven’t barked at me. Haven’t ordered me to do anything. In fact, they’ve gone out of their way to try to make me comfortable, as uncomfortable as that has been in and of itself.

One of them did take from me, though. Asher bit me. Claimed me without my consent. Something I know to be true of alphas, only…

I rub my chest, frowning at the part inside me where the tangle of bonds usually throbs. I feel the Carmichaels’ collective anger. Their incessant rage that their toy has been stolen from them, but Asher's bond is muted.

When he bit me, his emotions had poured into me. A tsunami of feeling so powerful it nearly drowned me. Elation so pure it felt like flying. Disbelief that sang through his veins like electricity. Then horror—deep, gut-wrenching horror as he took in my condition.

That horror had morphed into something fierce and protective. A powerful need to save me. To heal me. To shelter me. To give me back every piece of myself that had been stolen.

Then nothing. Or rather, not nothing, but a deliberate... restraint. Like a river held back by a dam, with only the smallest trickle allowed through.

I press my hand harder against my chest, trying to understand. Asher's bond is still there. I can feel his presence, but it's controlled. Muted. As though he's consciously holding back the full force of his emotions. Not letting them flood into me unchecked as Matthew, Derek, and James always did. As though he... cares how his feelings might affect me. As though he's keeping himself in check to avoid burdening me.

Under that careful control, I catch glimpses of what he's containing. Self-loathing so intense it makes my throat tighten. Guilt that cuts like glass. Anger—not at me, but at himself.

But beneath that self-hatred lies something even more confusing. Tenderness. Protectiveness. A bone-deep certainty that I'm precious. Worth protecting. Worth waiting for. Worth whatever patience it takes.

I pull the blankets tighter around me, trying to make sense of it. Alphas don't shield omegas from their emotions. They use the bond to control, to punish, to remind us of our place.

Why would Asher restrain himself when he could do whatever he wants? He claimed me. He owns me. He could use our bond to force compliance, to make me feel his dominance. Yet instead, he's... protecting me?

The partial bonds with the Carmichaels are like open wounds, seeping poison into my system. But Asher's bond, even unwanted, is different. Like a door he's carefully closed to shield me, not trap me.

I don’t know what to do with this, so I do what I’ve learned: step back from the storm and lock it away in the back of my mind.

The sun continues its descent, shadows lengthening across the lawn. As daylight fades, the room grows too large around me. Too exposed. Too open. After years in small, dark spaces, all this emptiness makes my skin prickle. I feel watched from all angles, vulnerable from too many directions.

Soren said there were no cameras in my room. I checked on the tablet that sits on the bedside table, but still I feelsomething. My stomach growls, reminding me I've barely eaten. Soon, one of the alphas will come with dinner but I don't have it in me to see any of them again. Not today. I'm hollowed out, emptied by the simple act of existing.

I crawl under the mound of blankets, pulling them over my head even though it feels wrong. I’m nesting without permission, but this isn't a nest. Just a hiding place. A small, dark space I can control when everything else is too much.

I make a tiny hole in my blanket fortress, just large enough to keep watch on the darkening sky outside. To watcheverythingoutside.

Movement catches my eye, a figure moving between trees at the edge of the property. I tense, heart racing, until I make out the uniform. A guard in tactical gear, rifle slung across his chest, patrolling the perimeter. Another figure passes minutes later, following the same route, and I start to relax.

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