Page 8 of Shades of Scars

There’s an incessant buzz beneath my skin when I let myself into my apartment an hour later, thanking the fucking heavens that Kate is blessedly gone when I shut and lock the door behind me.

Hell, I even use the deadboltandthe chain.

It doesn’t matter that Kate will have to call me later to let her back in. I can’t risk the exposure when I’m here by myself. Not after I just walked away from the only thing I’ve ever truly wanted in my entire life, despite my reservations.

You can’t have them. I keep inwardly chanting to myself, stalking deeper into the space I share with Kate.You’ll doom them if you try.

Yet, when I strip down bare and climb into the makeshift nest on my too small bed, I can’t help but yearn for them. I can’t stop myself from wondering if it’s just the two of them. Alpha packs aren’t exactly rare, and they usually consist of more than two at a time.

Somehow, deep down, I can feel it in my bones that there are more of them. I shouldn’t be thinking about all of this as I curl up underneath the soft blankets and sheets of my pitiful nest, but I can’t stop. My mind is whirling and racing a million miles a second.

When I’d left my apartment earlier for my interview, I never would’ve imagined in a million years that this was how my night would end. There are plenty of stories out there that speak of omegas spontaneously running into their scent matched alphas, but that had always been a far off fairy-tale fantasy of mine. Something completely out of my reach.

I’m fucking broken. My past is a constant threat over my head that I would do well not to forget. As if in response to that thought, the nasty mark on my shoulder seems to pulse in agreement.

I can’t have them. Even though it’ll kill me, I have to reject them.

Then why hadn’t I done it back in that office? What made me walk away and give both of them hope that I’ll ever come back?

Because there’s a bigger part of me that knows I’ll never get away.

The magnificent red haired alpha had warned me as much. I groan, trembling beneath my blankets when I recall just how intoxicating he’d smelled when he’d wrapped himself around me like a tree. Winter Evergreen and rich, dark chocolate. My jaw fucking aches at the thought of the hunger it had ignited within me when he’d snuck his nose against my skin to catch a whiff of me.

Fuck, I’d known he wanted to bite me. Just as I’d wanted to bite him.

Small fucking mercies I’d opted to put my leather jacket back on before I had stepped into the office.

If they’d seen the twisted, seared mark on my neck…

No. I can’t think about that. They can never find out. It’ll only lead to questions I can’t answer.

I should leave, I think while I curl myself up in a tight ball, trying to block out the pain the memory of walking away from them caused me. I’ve only been left here by the demons of mypast because they know I’m a caged animal. If they find out I’ve found my scent matched alphas?

I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out the terror before it can consume me. I’ve worked too goddamn hard to let those assholes win. I’ve buried those memories and everything that’s been stolen from me so deep, that it’ll never touch me again.

But it’s all just a fucking facade. A pretty way for me to pretend that I’m not as free as the world thinks I am.

I’m nothing but a puppet with thinly veiled, loose strings.

And one sharp tug from my master will bring me crashing back into a nightmare that I’ve riskedeverythingto escape.

* * *

“You look like shit, Scar. Are you sick or something?” Kate’s words cut through me like a knife, and I barely stopped myself from wincing. I’m sprawled on the old leather couch that dominates most of our small living room, idly picking away at a spot on the cushion beneath me as I slowly wallow away into nothing. Self pity does not look good on me.

“I’m fine.” I grumble, but there’s not much heat behind it. I don’t have the energy for it. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch my roommate finish up her routine to get her ready for a shift at the diner down the block from our place. It’s been three days since the earth shattering revelation that I’d found my scent matched mates, and Kate still has no idea.

She never will.

“You look like a warmed up corpse, and you smell like one too. When’s the last time you showered?” I finally shift my full attention over to her, just in time to see her wrinkle her nose in my direction. Normally, on a good day, I’d care about stuff as trivial as everyday hygiene.

Today’s not one of those days. The other two hadn’t been, either.

“How do you know what a warmed up corpse smells like?” I lift a brow at her, going for snarky, but it falls flat.

She narrows her gaze on me. “Where did you run off to Saturday night?”

I toss a hand in her direction and return my attention to ripping the leather off the couch with vigor. “That’s not important.” It’s very fucking important, but again, she’ll never know that. They’re my secrets to shoulder. I’ve known Kate the longest since I’d moved here nearly a year ago now, and I still don’t feel like I can trust her with everything my fucked up life has to offer.

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