Page 4 of Chain Me Knot

I can only be thankful for that survival mechanism. Myonlydefense against my situation.

Paradoxically, without my body doing what it should be doing, I’m worthless. Defective. A heatless omega. A slickless omega. Not able to be impregnated if I don’t go into heat. ThankfuckI never conceived. Maybe fate did smile on me inher own sick and twisted way. I can almost feel her arms opening to welcome me into the void. Maybe finally she’s taken pity on me.

I’ll eagerly slip into the great nothingness if she’ll take me.

The thought of death should frighten me, but it doesn't. Nothing really frightens me anymore. Fear requires hope's shadow, and hope died in this basement a long time ago.

As it does in all basements, no matter what form they come in.

I experienced freedom once, for a few precious hours after Mira, Leah, and I escaped Haven. I breathed in fresh air, stood on soft, cold earth. We'd planned our escape for weeks, knowing our first heats were approaching. Hugo and Lars took sick pleasure in describing what awaited us when biology decided we were old enough to reach omega maturity… the auction block, the highest bidders claiming their prizes, our bodies sold to whichever pack could pay the most.

So we memorized the guard rotations, learned which cameras had blind spots, hoarded the few supplies we could. The night we escaped, we ran until our feet bled and even then we didn’t stop but when I heard the baying of the dogs, I knew we had to separate. It would be harder for the guards to track three targets instead of one. So I’d hugged the only sisters I’d had. We split up and I can only pray to whatever God is still listening that somehow they survived.

I have to believe they escaped the fate Haven planned for us even if I didn’t.

My freedom lasted mere hours before the dogs caught my scent and pinned me down with teeth and claws and the violence they’d been taught. Hugo and Lars weren't far behind. They took me back and sold me to the highest bidders on the same night. My forever alphas. My blessed pack.

Only there was no happily ever after. Instead, there was another basement as my new home. As if my life as an omega is meant to be lived underground, in darkness. Forgotten.

Each soft plink of water against the basin is another moment in this eternal darkness. Each drop is another reminder that I'm forgotten. Each drop is another reason to stop fighting, stop hoping, stop being.

The drip of the sink counts out endless seconds.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

I slip back into my fantasy, where I’m walking on my beach. The wind is freezing, whipping my hair into my eyes. The sand is frozen underfoot. The slate gray sky burgeons with sleet too heavy to hold, but it does. Just. The waves that wash over my toes make them numb. I don’t care because I’m the only person on this beach for miles and miles and miles. The cold keeps everyone away. Keeps me alone and safe. I let the frigid air blanket me. Let the freezing waves wash over my body and seep into my bones. In my mind, the water closes over my head, and I’m surrounded by beautiful, muffled silence. My eyelids grow heavy as unrelenting fatigue cuts a path down to my core.

Maybe this time I won’t wake.

Maybe this time, the ocean will sweep me out to sweet oblivion.

Matthew's rage hits me first through our half-bond, a blistering wave of fury that burns cold and hot. A gasp chokes out of me as my eyes flare wide and the beach is forced from my mind. The prime alpha's anger has always been the worst. Calculated, controlled and only promising retribution. My stomach clenches, knowing that whatever's happening above will eventually be taken out on me.

Derek's rage follows, messier and more volatile than Matthew’s. His emotions are broken glass, the sharp edges cutting through our partial bond. Behind his anger lurks familiar contempt, the disgust he never bothers to hide when he looks at me.

Then comes James's cold disdain, clashing against the others' hot rage. His emotions seep into my veins, churning with his brand of vileness. Sick dread slides through me with an oily promise of what’s to come. I press my forehead against my knees, trying to block it all out but it doesn't work.

It never works.

Thumps and angry voices filter down from above, unusual enough to make my heart rattle. The basement's concrete walls usually muffle everything, leaving mein my own silent hell, but these sounds are distinct. Sweat breaks out across my skin despite the basement's perpetual chill. This is new.

New is never good.

My alphas' rage pounds me, but there's something else. They're afraid. My alphas are never afraid, which means whatever's happening must be truly terrible. And they always take those terrible things out on me. My wish to fade away is too late. I should have stopped drinking from the sink weeks ago, should have let dehydration take me before this moment could arrive. Should have…

Silence.

The sudden quiet sends raking chills down my spine. Every hair on my body stands on end. Then I hear the distinct sound of the basement door click open. My heart threatens to burst from my chest as I struggle to sit up on the thin mattress, but my limbs are weak from hunger and fear. I manage to push upright just as heavy footfalls start down the stairs.

One step. Another. Slow, deliberate.

A delicious scent rolls over me. Smoky whiskey and worn leather. It's warmth and protection and... and home. The scent wraps around me, promising safety even as my rational mind screams that safety doesn't exist.

Two more scents follow that first intoxicating wave. Rich black full roast coffee, then spiced sandalwood touched with cold freshness. The combination of all three wash over me, through me,becomeme. Each scent promises something different. Protection, strength, safety. Lies my body wants to believe even as my mind knows better.

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