Page 57 of Unhinged Omega

I'm sure I would feel that, somehow.

I shake my head, refusing to follow that train of thought. Instead, I focus on the scene below, my eyes drawn inevitably to the pit where my nightmare has taken physical form.

Except the pit looks different now.

Where before it was roughly circular, now one section stretches out like a reaching finger.

A big fuck you to Nikolai, perhaps?

I'm not sure if the monster is even sentient enough for that—I don't think sentient beings eat omegas, at least not alive—but I appreciate the artistry, either way. But the Knight isn't clawing at the earth in a random direction.

He's working his way steadily toward the tower.

Toward me.

Of course he is.

I press my palm against the glass, watching as those haunting blue eyes lift to meet mine across the distance. Even from here, I can feel the intensity of his gaze. The connection that's always existed between us, the one I've spent years trying to deny.

Trying tofight.

"You're really coming for me, aren't you?" I whisper against the glass.

The thought should terrify me. This is the monster that's haunted my dreams for so long, the demon that's torn me apart countless times in my nightmares.

But there's something different now. Something has shifted since I saw him in the flesh.

The terror is still there, yes, but mixed with something else. Something that feels almost like... recognition.

Like meeting someone you've known your whole life for the very first time.

Which issofucked up.

I watch as his metal claws tear into the earth with renewed vigor, and I can't help but wonder…

Has he been dreaming about me too?

A commotion below draws my attention back to Nikolai. He's thrown something—probably at one of his men—and is now storming off toward another storage unit.

Despite myself, I feel my lips twitch.

For an alpha who claims not to care, he's certainly working himself into quite a state.

But my eyes are drawn back to the pit like a magnet. To the Knight. To those glowing blue eyes that never seem to leave me. Even if he shouldn't be able to see me from where he is, through these tinted windows, somehow, it feels like he can.

I arrange the couch pillows in my makeshift nest, trying to get them just right. Nothing feels right. The fabric is too rough, the stuffing too lumpy.

But it's better than nothing, I suppose.

My skin feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. I haven't had a heat in... how long has it been? The pills my father forced on me kept them at bay for so long, I'd almost forgotten what it feels like. The desperate need, the aching emptiness, the way even the softest fabric feels like sandpaper against my oversensitive skin.

I glance around the tower room, taking in my surroundings with fresh eyes. It's not terrible, I have to admit. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a stunning view of the airfield below, if the memory of long haul travel is your particular kink. And there's a certain stark beauty to the industrial architecture, complimented by occasional salvaged statues and paintings that look like Nikolai might have taken them from museums. Raiders don't usually go for art.

But it's far from the luxury I'm used to.

Then again, Monty's mansion is the height of luxury, with its marble floors and crystal chandeliers, and I hated every moment I spent there. At least here, I don't have to pretend to be the perfect omega wife, politely accepting whatever scraps of attention my "mate" deigns to give me.

A wave of need crashes over me, making me gasp. I press my thighs together, trying to find some relief, but it's useless. My earlier attempts at self-pleasure left me even more frustrated than before.

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